9. Seth #2
When I looked back at her, I noticed something I hadn’t at first. Gabby was being careful. Not in an obvious way, but there was a cautiousness to her now that hadn’t existed before.
I had always assumed she was angry with me for disappearing from their lives so abruptly. She had every right to be.
Now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe she hadn’t been at all. Maybe she had spent the same years I spent avoiding them, except on the other side of it, trying not to make things worse.
The thought settled uncomfortably in my chest.
I wished she would stop being careful. I wished she would just act like she used to.
And, more than anything, I wished I hadn’t disappeared long enough for that kind of caution to exist between us.
As if she’d caught whatever direction my thoughts were taking, Gabby’s expression shifted, brightening again with sudden purpose.
“Are you coming to the rehearsal dinner later?”
I blinked. “I wasn’t aware I was invited.”
Gabby stared at me for a beat, as if the question itself didn’t make sense, before shaking her head. “Lynn forgets to tell everyone things. Of course you’re invited.”
The answer came too easily, too naturally, and it threw me off.
“Seth,” she said simply, “you’re practically family.”
Something uncomfortable shifted inside me at that.
For years, I had quietly assumed I had lost the right to that word. That I had stepped so far outside it that it no longer applied to me.
The strange thing was that no one else seemed to agree.
“I’ll see if we can make it,” I said. “I, uh, need to check whether my spare suit can be pressed in time.”
Gabby’s eyes narrowed immediately. I already knew she didn’t believe me.
But before she could respond, her attention shifted. “Oh, look.”
I followed her gaze. Darryl and Elliot were walking across the lawn toward us. Every nerve in my body went alert at once.
This was the moment I had built up in my head over weeks, replayed in different versions, imagined with different outcomes. Now that it was actually happening, it felt smaller than I had expected.
Darryl reached us first, smiling before anything else. “Seth.”
“Hey.” The word came easily. There was no tension in it, no carefully measured distance.
Beside him, Elliot stepped forward and offered his hand. “It’s good to finally meet you properly.”
I shook it. “You too.”
When he turned to Dane, Elliot greeted him just as easily. There was no suspicion in his expression, nothing that suggested he questioned why I was here.
That surprised me.
Because it meant trust, not just in me, but that whatever had existed between Darryl and me belonged firmly in the past.
By the time the conversation drifted onward, I found myself relaxing in ways I hadn’t expected. No one seemed uncomfortable. No one looked like they were waiting for me to slip.
The years between then and now, which I had carried around like something heavy and unresolved, suddenly felt less absolute. Only smaller than I had made them in my head.
And through all of it, Dane stayed beside me.
He never hovered or interrupted, never tried to steer conversations or step into spaces that weren’t his. He was simply there, as if he had already decided this was where he belonged.
Every so often, I found myself looking at him without meaning to. And every time I did, his gaze found mine.
The afternoon blurred after that, conversations shifting between old friends and former classmates. Everywhere I turned, I was being greeted as if no time had passed.
I had assumed everyone had moved on from me. But maybe I had simply stepped out of their lives and decided the door had closed behind me.
Across the lawn, Lynn suddenly lifted both arms and waved. “There he is!”
Several familiar faces turned.
“Seth!”
“Get over here.”
“We’ve been looking for you!”
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it, easier than anything I had managed all day.
Beside me, Dane bumped his shoulder lightly against mine. “Go on. I’ll be right here.”
I looked toward them, then at the lawn, the house, the people calling my name from across it. For the first time since arriving, I wasn’t in any hurry to leave.
By the time we reached the restaurant, I could already feel it.
That slow drain at the base of my skull from too many conversations stacked too closely together, too many familiar faces in one afternoon, too many versions of myself I hadn’t had to be in a long time.
The rehearsal dinner was held at a waterfront restaurant. From where we stood outside, I could already see the warm spill of light through the glass doors and the movement of people inside.
I stopped just short of the entrance. Dane stood beside me, hands loose at his sides, waiting.
After a beat, he glanced at me. “You don’t have to go in.”
“I know,” I said automatically, then hesitated, a faint frown pulling at me. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just… I don’t know if it’s rude not to. Gabby made it sound like I should, but then she didn’t really… I’m not sure if I was actually meant to be here or just invited on a whim.”
Dane’s mouth twitched. “That was a very long sentence for someone who’s tired.”
I let out a breath that almost turned into a laugh. “Yeah, well. You’re doing the good boyfriend thing, so I have to keep up.”
“I’m doing great then.” He looked like he was enjoying himself a little too much for someone just standing there.
Then I saw Gabby crossing the parking lot. Her expression shifted as she got closer, like she could already read the situation from a distance.
“Seth,” she called as she reached us. “Are you not coming in?”
Nothing came out when I opened my mouth. Dane answered first.
“Seth’s a bit exhausted,” he said, voice a little too controlled. “Bit of travel fatigue. We were just debating whether he should rest.”
His acting was terrible. But Gabby didn’t call him out.
“Sweetheart,” she said gently, “you don’t have to come if you’re tired. Really.”
“I, um, might sit this one out,” I admitted.
“That’s fine,” she said immediately. “Eat something later. Or don’t. Just rest.”
Then, just before she turned away, she gave my arm a warm squeeze. “I’m glad you came today.”
I stood there for a moment, watching her go. Only when the door closed did I realize I’d been holding my breath.
Dane shifted beside me, already angling toward the path behind the restaurant. “Do you want to walk back to the hotel?”
I exhaled, the tension loosening. “Yeah… a walk sounds good.”
The path led toward the beach, and the noise of the reception faded almost immediately, replaced by the softer sound of water and wind.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then Dane said, “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded. We walked a little further before he continued.
“Today… was it more about seeing people again, or figuring out how you feel about all of it?”
For a second, my mind went straight to Darryl. Then I thought that wasn’t really what he meant.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. Then, quieter, “Maybe a bit of both.”
I watched the sand shift under my shoes as we walked.
“I think part of me just wanted to know if I still felt anything,” I admitted. “Or if I’d been making it bigger in my head than it was.”
“And?”
I let out a short breath. “And it wasn’t that.”
“I don’t think I was angry,” I said after a moment. “Or hurt. Not really. It just felt like… I’d been on the edge of something for a long time without realizing I wasn’t really part of it anymore.”
Then, because honesty felt easier than whatever was starting to form in my chest, I added, “Also, you looked really good today.”
Dane laughed. “That’s your takeaway?”
“People were telling me that all day,” I said, a little defensive. “It felt relevant.”
He nudged my shoulder. “Do you regret coming?”
I let the question sit for a moment.
“No,” I said at last. “I’m glad I saw them again. I didn’t realize how much I missed all of it.”
Dane nodded. “And if you could go back?”
The waves rolled in beside us, loud and steady.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I think I would still leave. At the time, it felt like the only thing I could do.”
My fingers brushed his. I didn’t pull away this time and let my fingers lace with his.
“I definitely don’t regret asking you to come,” I said.
“Were you considering anyone else?” Dane asked.
I laughed. “Absolutely. I had a whole list. But you were cheap. Coffee and pastries were enough to win you over.”
“That sounds like an excellent return on investment.”
“Oh, it was a steal.”
Dane slid an arm around my shoulders as we walked, pulling me in with easy certainty. The warmth of him settled against my side in a way I was starting to recognize too quickly.
I leaned in before I could think too much about it. His gaze met mine again, steady and focused entirely on me.
I tugged lightly at the front of his shirt, drawing him down just enough. He met me halfway.
The kiss was slower than the last one, less uncertain this time, more deliberate, and harder to pretend it didn’t mean anything.