2. Aspyn
ASPYN
M y emerald-green strapless dress, with a sweetheart neckline, clings to my curves perfectly. I sit patiently in the bridal suite, waiting for the make-up artist Tara hired to get around to me. I’m on my fourth mimosa in two hours, and my second plate is filled with fruit and croissants.
“You’re strangely quiet,” my friend and fellow bridesmaid, Wendy, says, nudging me as she sits beside me on the sofa.
“Just taking it all in. It’s been such a wonderful morning, and I’m excited today is finally here.” I manage a convincing smile that says, “Hey, I’m chill, I’m definitely not panic drinking, and my heart is certainly not in pieces within my chest.” At least, that’s what I hope my smile says.
Sean will get Tara in the breakup. Our days of couples' travel and co-hosting huge parties will be over, and everything I have grown accustomed to is going to change entirely. That thought nearly brings tears to my eyes, but I disguise it by adding, “And what a beautiful bride you are, Tara. You’ve never looked more beautiful!”
Her cream-colored, poofy princess dress is exactly what she’s always dreamed of, and her gorgeous red hair is styled in a half- updo, pinned with silver combs featuring tiny pearls to match her necklace.
The rest of her hair hangs freely down her back.
She is stunning, and, by far, one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.
How she and Sean were raised by the same parents in the same home and turned out as complete opposites is beyond my understanding. But, I try not to dwell.
“Don’t make me cry, Aspyn!” Tara scolds me with a fake glare and a wink. “But thank you. I think I’ve nailed the princess look, and this make-up is perfect! Get over here, sis, it’s your turn. Blink those tears away.”
I pull myself together and take Tara’s place in the make-up chair in front of a mirror lit by a dozen bright bulbs.
Sitting still while Tara’s friend creates a neutral color palette on my face is a challenge because I’m feeling particularly twitchy.
Finally, Amber adds a little pink sparkly eyeshadow and a pretty mauve lipstick.
Glancing in the mirror, I look like a pin-up model–minus the classic red lip—that’s how excellent Amber is at her job.
The dress perfectly matches my tattoo sleeve, which features a forest of dark green and brown evergreen trees under a backdrop of purple and green swirling Northern Lights, the moon, and the constellation Sagittarius, my star sign.
Tara’s hands fall to my shoulders as she stands behind me, smiling at me in the mirror. Our eyes connect, and I beg my top lip not to tremble. Do not lose it. Now isn’t the time!
“You look incredible, Sis.”
It melts the smile right off my face. We will never be family. Never be sisters-in-law.
Not now.
“Hey, where did you just go?”
“Sorry.” I wince. “Your brother and I aren’t in the best place right now.”
My voice lowers to a whisper, not wanting to draw attention from the other women.
This is Tara’s day. Soon enough, she will know everything, and I want to be the one to tell her after she returns from the honeymoon.
God only knows what terrible slant Sean will put on it.
My heart shatters at the thought of more lies from my narcissist ex.
“I thought you were trying to have a baby?” Tara’s eyes narrow as she stares back at me, tilting her head to the side.
“We were not actively trying not to. He thought if he could give me a baby, I would stop asking for a ring, I guess.” I frown for a second before shrugging. “I’m okay. Let’s focus on you, babe. It’s your wedding day!”
“Okay, but as soon as we get home from the honeymoon, it’s you, me, and a gallon of ice cream and bad reality TV. Got it?”
Supplying Tara with a reluctant smile, I wonder if that date will ever happen.
A knock sounds at the door.
When I see Deacon standing there, tears rush to my eyes and my hands start to tremble.
He has this unique ability...when he looks at me, I feel as though he’s looking through me, down to the ooey-gooey center I don’t let anyone see.
Viewing the deepest and most vulnerable parts of me that I prefer to hide.
And all I know is, now is not the time for that.
“You look stunning.” Deacon takes my hand, pulls me through the doorway, and lets the bridal suite door shut behind me. “But I can tell you’re barely holding on. I read your text this morning. How are you doing?” His voice is full of empathy.
“Pretty badly.” I stare up into his clear blue eyes and gulp three times hard to keep a sob from bursting from me. “Tara knows that her brother and I are having problems, but she doesn’t know the extent. Or that it’s over.”
“Sean’s acting like it’s not over downstairs. He’s discussing how you two are trying to get pregnant. Of course, everyone’s asking when he will marry you and make an honest woman out of you.” Deacon rolls his eyes and sighs.
“That man knows nothing about honesty.” My hands shake as Deacon takes them into his much-bigger hands and squeezes. “I fucking hate him so much right now.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disgusted too. We’ve been friends since high school, but he’s clearly the guilty party here.” Deacon’s gaze is empathetic.
“Look, Deac.”
“Don’t ‘look, Deac,’ me,” he interrupts. “I know what you’re going to say, but if you insist...go for it.”
“I don’t want to get between you two. But I get it if you have to take his side in this one, since you’ve known Sean the longest.” My voice is full of nerves I don’t feel, and then I run out of words.
It’s an outright lie.
In that moment, I might die if Deacon stands up for Sean after all the ways he’s hurt and gaslit me over the last decade.
Deacon is too good a person. Too generous, compassionate, and sweet to side with a guy like Sean.
A slimeball. They couldn’t be more different if they tried, despite being long-time friends.
Sean hadn’t always been terrible, though, had he?
He was a lot of fun despite being pre-med in college, and he was charming as hell.
People loved him wherever he went, and he liked having me, the beauty, on his arm.
His hand cups my face as I look at the floor, the hexagonal pattern on the rug dancing as my eyes blur.
“You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.
Besides, Sean is a shitty friend nine times out of ten, and if he makes me choose, I will choose the better human being.
And if you don’t immediately know who that is, I don’t know what to tell ya. ” His lips quirk up around the edges.
Our eyes meet, and another vulnerable feeling passes through me again, sending a shiver down my spine. Sean never looked at me and made me feel seen, but Deacon? It’s like being flayed open. Today, I hate it.
I want to be impenetrable.
“No hugs. I’ll break down.” I hold my hand up as Deacon steps closer. Instead, he pecks my cheek and presses his forehead against mine. I encircle one hand behind his neck and intentionally slow my breathing, appreciating the calmness his presence brings me.
“You got this. The day will be over before you know it. Take comfort in knowing you’re you, and Sean’s Sean. You win at the end of the day by that simple fact.”
As I giggle slightly, Deacon steps back and shoves his hands in his tuxedo pockets.
He’s right. At least Sean hadn’t changed my character or my heart.
I’d emerged from ten years of his haughty heartlessness still equipped with love and compassion, and when the time is right, I’ll manage to give my heart again. Healing is inevitable, right?
I won’t let Sean wreck me.
“See you in a few,” Deacon says, reaching out one last time to stroke my cheek softly with his forefinger. “You’ll be alright, Beck.”
Beckett is my last name, and only Deacon calls me Beck. I give him a grin that’s more enthusiastic than I feel.
“You’re right. I will be. Thanks for reminding me of that, and for the vote of confidence. See you soon.” We exchange one last smile before I hurry back into the bridal suite and find my friends.