Chapter 13 #3
"Who is this Dallas character I keep hearing so much about?" Sydney presses as though she's completely oblivious. I get it. She's eager to see him with her own two eyes. "And who names their kid Dallas anyway?"
I roll my lips to stifle the smirk her subtle jab causes. She's laying it on thick to get the answers she wants.
"Dallas is just a nickname. It came pretty naturally since he's from there." He shrugs like it's no big deal. Willow Creek is not Dallas, but I digress.
"And you are his…" Sydney gestures for him to continue.
"Brother..." he answers, the word lingering in the air as he extends his hand toward the tent entrance for us to proceed.
"Hmm," Sydney answers, walking inside without another question.
"When does the ceremony start?" I ask, curious how stiff of a drink I need to order to survive the vows.
He checks his watch. "We have forty-five minutes, give or take. What can I get you ladies to drink? "
"Two ranch waters, please," I say.
"Make them doubles," Sydney tacks on.
Trigg flashes her one of his charming smiles that I know even Sydney can't ignore. "Coming right up."
Once Trigg is out of earshot, she leans in. "Okay, when he comes back with our drinks, we make up a reason to go to the main house alone so I can lay into that asshole before he walks down the aisle."
"We're doing no such thing. Sitting with the guests, where he has no choice but to see two ghosts from his past while waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle, will be enough. I have no interest in convincing him to choose me."
I can't make my heart stop loving him. We leave parts of ourselves with the people we love long after we decide to walk away.
I know pieces of me will always belong to him, but I've also sat with my woes long enough to find my worth.
I know what I deserve, and that woman deserves a man who will love her just as fiercely, without waver.
"Then let's ensure we get the best fucking seat out there."
"I can't fucking believe it. I didn't think you were lying, but I also needed to see it with my own eyes. That is definitely him," Sydney whispers as London guides a horse down the aisle, carrying a beaming bride to the groom waiting at the altar. "But he's not the one getting married."
I hate what that little detail does to my pathetic heart.
Hope isn't always a good thing. Sometimes it's toxic, especially when it's directed at something that's not good for us.
Right now, hope is preventing me from moving on.
It's tethering me to a past I need to forget, and worst of all, I now have to sit here and stare at him for the next thirty minutes and try to feel nothing.
Sydney pulls my hand into her lap as we watch the bride's father help her off the horse. "Besides the asshat holding the horse up there, are you okay? I mean, being at a wedding and the whole father-of-the-bride thing?"
From a young age, I have always had this persistent curiosity about the missing piece of my story.
I dreamed about finding my father, having a name to fill in the blank spaces, and finding a connection in the mirror with the features on my face.
At every age, my reason for finding him evolved, and the year I stopped looking for him was the year I lost London.
Visions of my father at my side, walking beside me to give me away to the only man I ever loved consumed me, but when we fell apart, so did my desire to find another man who might break my heart.
Reality, with its complicated humans and messy emotions, would likely shatter the carefully constructed father I built in my imagination.
His kind eyes, welcoming arms, and overwhelming joy at discovering my existence lives perfect and untarnished in my mind.
The phantom father I molded in my mind possessed the qualities I needed throughout my life.
The real man, whoever and wherever he is, carries his own wounds, flaws, and limitations, and I have enough of my own without the weight of his.
"I'm good." I squeeze her hand.
The second he has the horse positioned beside the dock that leads out to the gazebo, he turns around, and the second he does, his eyes instantly connect with mine.
He stands perfectly still as time seems to stop.
London may not have expected me to show up today after he told me to leave, but the shock that existed a few days ago when we set eyes on each other for the first time in years is gone.
In its place is a dangerous, familiar current.
"He's looking at you," Sydney mumbles through clenched teeth.
"I'm aware," I answer as I watch him stand transfixed, as though the world around us has crumbled away.
I wore this dress specifically to get his attention, to make him remember a night I'll never forget, but in my haste to get revenge, I didn't consider how his reactions would feed mine.
And maybe that's because I didn't expect him to look at me the way he's looking at me now—like he remembers the taste of my skin, the break in his voice as he whispered sweet nothings while moving inside of me, and the completeness that settled over us as we held each other.
A flex in his hand has my rational side slowly returning. "Distract me." I nudge Sydney.
"Find out whose wedding we're at."
There's a thought. I was so convinced we were attending London's wedding that I hadn't considered anyone else. I lean to my left, and Trigg meets me halfway and drops his arm over the back of my chair. The move sparks yet another subtle reaction from London as he rolls his lips and looks away.
"Whose wedding is this?"
"My father's best friend's daughter."
"Why is Dallas part of the wedding and not you?"
"The bride wanted to ride a horse down the aisle, and Dallas's horse is the only Thoroughbred on the property that's been gentled for trail riding…and Titan is majestic."
The horse is indeed regal, but once again, I find my mind wandering back to the man at its side.
If Titan is a Thoroughbred retired to trail riding, and London is his owner, then does that mean he's the one who trained him?
Is working with horses his therapy the way it is mine, and if so, is his madness rooted in the same vein as mine?
Stop it , I internally scold myself before subtly elbowing Sydney again. "Remind me why I need to stay mad."
"Because he lied. Because he didn't trust you with whatever truth brought him here. Because he cut us all out of his life like we meant nothing. And if that's not enough, because while he may not be the one exchanging vows today, I don't think he's single. Check out your new bestie."
That will do it. I bring my hands together in my lap and squeeze until my knuckles blanch white.
I look over at Madison and catch it. There's an unmistakable heat in her eyes as she watches London, it’s a lover's heat.
Though I'm not sure how much love can ever really be found when the person he's with doesn't even know his real name.
My heart can't help but contradict my mind at every turn.
It's desperate to write a new ending than the one I've hopelessly tried to rewrite, the one that doesn't end with him.
We could be wrong; I was wrong about the wedding.
The truth is neither of us knows who he is anymore.
Sydney discreetly snapping a photo earns my attention. "What are you doing?"
"Sending Fisher the proof that he picked the worst best friend of all time."
Her comment on the heels of me questioning London's ability to find a genuine relationship with someone who doesn't even know his name has me remember something else.
I turn slowly to the man on my left. "Do you know who I am?"
Madison isn't the only one who calls London by a different name. His so-called brother, the same person Asha asked me to dig up dirt on, does too. If they're truly brothers, then it's possible that Trigg is covering for him. But what if he's not?
Trigg's eyes skeptically drag over me, and he lowers his mask just enough for me to see that whatever words are about to cross his lips have been crafted.
"No more than you know me." He knows. He may not know exactly, but he knows enough to understand that I mean something to London.
The question I have now is, why would he invite me here?
Recognition flickers across his face, and he leans in, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from my ear in what I now believe is a move meant to provoke—only, I'm not the target. "We'll talk."
My mind doesn't get a second to process his words before the crowd around us stands and erupts into cheers as the newlyweds are officially announced as husband and wife. I join in the celebration and follow Sydney in a daze as we all exit the ceremony to return to the tent.
A hand slides across my bare back, and I tense. "I need to congratulate the newlyweds. Promise you won't run off? "
"Oh, you don't want me to come with you?" I try to play it cool, like his comment seconds ago wasn't unsettling.
His hand lightly squeezes my hip. "I'd love nothing more than to have you on my arm. I only assumed you wouldn't want to, given my father is standing over there too." There's a hint of mischief in his eyes when he adds, "I didn't think you'd want to meet the parents on the first date."
"I didn't realize this was a date." I can't help but smile. Tricks or not, Trigger Hale is a charmer.
His mouth drops open mockingly. "I asked you to be my plus-one."
"Who actually considers a wedding a date? You didn't even pay for anything."
His free hand covers his heart. "Now, I'm wounded."
I swat his chest. "Stop. Go congratulate the happy couple. I won't leave."
"Good," he says as he starts to walk away. "But now I owe you a real date." He tosses me a wink before turning on his heel to meet the wedding party beside the lake.