Chapter 34 #2
I march across the room through the smoke on my way to the windows.
Unlike the ultra-modern, minimalist villa we stayed in all week, the wedding venue is a classic Mexican hacienda, like those drug lord mansions in the movies. Wooden windows with double doors hidden behind sheer, elegant white curtains that stretch from floor to the high ceiling.
I push the curtain aside, but there’s no way I can reach the latch up top. I try again, standing on tiptoe, stretching my arm as far as I can, but I only manage to brush the tips of my fingers against the metal hook.
Part of me knows it’s hopeless, but the other part is stubborn enough to a) know I’m embarrassing myself, b) refuse to ask for help, c) want to prove I can do it alone. So I stretch until I almost lose my balance in my heels, clutching the wooden blind bar to keep from falling on my face.
As I try to stand, I hear metal scraping metal, jerking across the wood as if it urgently needs some oil. I lift my head and come face-to-face with Jasper, right beside me, reaching the latch with no trouble.
I can’t smell him through all the smoke, but I definitely feel his presence. And it’s excruciating.
If I didn’t fall before, all I want now is to crash to the floor until this whole thing ends.
Jasper leans over to reach the latch on the other window, his eyes serious and unreadable, only catching mine for a split second. He’s angry. Still entirely angry.
Judging by what Tony, and even Suzi, told me, he has every right. When he finishes unlatching the second lock, I manage a quiet “thanks” that he doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls it open and moves to the next window. I begin moving the curtains while he works on the remaining locks.
The noise the guys are making is almost as chaotic as the cigar smoke. A bunch of different voices and sounds I can’t make out or focus on.
After the second window is open, the smoke begins to clear. Now only the door remains, which, according to the layout, leads to a charming balcony with a rocking chair and a white bougainvillea climbing the pergola.
Before pulling the curtain back, I finally gather the courage to speak, “Can we talk for a minute?”
He stretches to open the latch at the top anyway, pulling the curtain aside with his fingers.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Jasper replies without even looking at me. “I’ve already had too much to drink.”
“I know, I just…” I try to insist, but he keeps walking, giving me no attention at all.
“I don’t want to say anything stupid and make this worse.”
I just wanna laugh.
I understand. I swear I understand. I also don’t want to make anything worse. But seriously, is there any way things could get worse than they already are?
“Fucking hell!” Jasper mutters the moment he opens the door.
Why did I even I ask? Someone, tell me why I asked? Of course, there is! There’s always a way for things to get worse.
I see Connor on the other side of the door, and now it’s painfully clear. Things are about to get much, much worse in a matter of moments.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite couple!” he says, smiling maliciously from Jasper to me. I take a deep breath. The smile widens. “Trouble in paradise?”
What a stupid question.
He knows what happened.
He’s an asshole, but not stupid. He heard the entire argument broadcast live through the speakers, just like everyone at the party. He even heard both Jasper and me calling him a fucking jerk.
By rights, he’s furious. I just wish he were furious the Jasper way: shutting down, silent and pissed ass drunk. Connor gets furious like an asshole.
“I bet you’re regretting not hanging with me instead, aren’t you, Jules?”
“I’m not, Connor,” I reply instantly.
Man, I curse the day Mila and Robbie put us side by side at the most boring event in the world, whilst saying he had a bright future and a trust fund.
“You know I love it when you act all tough,” the bastard says. “I bet you bite too.” Then he looks at Jasper to ask, “Doesn’t she?”
Mila grimaces, scrunching her eyes and nose like a raisin.
“So that’s when he hit Connor?”
I wish it were, so that tragedy would’ve ended much earlier. But no, luck isn’t really on my side, as you know.
“No,” I reply. “That’s when Jasper and I started arguing again in front of everyone.”
“Just shut up, Connor!” Jasper snaps, with an impatient expression, but his voice perfectly controlled.
Maybe even too much.
“I need to get out of here!” I say, and I step toward the door.
I really don’t want to watch this get any worse. I can’t. And I won’t. But Connor steps in front of me, blocking the way.
“You in fifth grade or something?” I ask, stepping to the side to try to slip past.
His feet follow mine, blocking me again. Only one of the double doors is open, so there’s no room to pass unless he moves. I hold my breath, trying desperately to stay calm.
But this closeness is probably far more agonizing for Jasper than for me, because he finally speaks, his voice so tired it feels like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than here.
“Let her through, man.”
Maybe I was hoping for some bro code solidarity, because I genuinely believed Connor would. Let me through, I mean.
But he doesn’t budge an inch. Instead, he lets out a crooked laugh, with perfectly white, veneer teeth that you just want to punch.
“Let. her. through,” Jasper repeats.
My heart jumps at those three words. They’re no longer just instructions, they sound like an order. An order from a man who will stop at nothing if his command isn’t obeyed.
Oh, crap!
I feel a flicker of anger.
Maybe in the movies everyone cheers for the guys fighting over the girl, making a big mess, or whatever, but this is real life. And it’s my best friend’s wedding. I do not want anyone fighting.
I just want him to hold my hand, get me out of here, and tell me everything’s going to be okay. To hold me under the covers and make the whole world disappear. Not this. This makes him look like an idiot as big as Connor.
“No!” I shout, trying to snap him out of it before the tension explodes. “Do not start a fight right now!”
“Start?” Jasper replies, hesitating for a moment. He’s clearly pissed too. Even worse now with Connor laughing, enjoying the chaos that unfolds in front of him.
Connor thinks we deserve this.
“I never thought you were the type to take orders from a woman, Jasper!” Connor taunts when he notices Jasper stepping back after I spoke. He wants a fight, everyone knows it. It’s just a matter of how far Jasper will go.
I understand the frustration. I do. If it were any other guy, that would be a point of no return. I don’t get bossed around by women, no sir. I’m a man, yes sir. I spit on the floor and scratch my balls, yeah!
But Jasper just looks at me, visibly upset, completely stunned and asks, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
As in: Are you fucking serious you don’t want me to punch this asshole in the face right now?
And I kind of can only applaud him for that.
Maybe, if it weren’t for me, Jasper would have punched him a long time ago. But hey, if it weren’t for me, Connor wouldn’t even be here trying to drive everyone insane.
“Why?” Jasper asks, fighting to stay composed. This time he’s talking to Connor, not me. “Why are you so diligently trying to start a fight? Is it ego? Because she said no to you?”
Connor waves it off like it doesn’t matter.
“You can have my leftovers, Jasper. Don’t worry about it.”
Goddamnit! The idiot isn’t helping, is he?
I let out a nervous laugh and scan the room, hoping someone – anyone – would help me deescalate this and bring us all back to peace.
But Robbie, his friends, even the bride’s dad are all just frozen, wide-eyed, jaws dropped, holding their breath like nothing else exists. Mr. Carnegie’s Castro cigar is dangerously close to drop ashes on the cushion.
No more smoke, no more side conversations, no more of Uncle Henry’s outrageous stories.
My only hope? Jasper is a lawyer and can definitely destroy Connor with just words if he wants to.
I’m not sure he wants to.
“I get it, really. You were with her first…” Jasper starts.
“Yeah, I was!” Connor cuts him off, winking immediately afterward.
“But it was my name she was screaming last night!” Jasper replies instantly. Words sharp enough to destroy Connor with no effort.
But really, fuck this! And fuck him!
“Fuck you!” I yell. Neither of these assholes has the right to keep measuring their dicks at my expense. So if anyone should start a fight now, that someone is me.
I plant my feet firmly, adjusting my stance like I could take both of them down if necessary.
“Connor, back off! We had a thing two years ago, it didn’t work out, and you treated me like trash every second we were together. Plus, let’s be honest, you love yourself too much to even like anyone else, so move on, get over it, and go bother some other poor soul who isn’t me!”
I have pity for the next poor soul, but seriously, I’ve had enough.
Then I turn to Jasper, searching his dark eyes for any hint of softness.
Regret.
But there’s nothing.
“And you… I really thought you were better than this.”
He looks at me as if I just slapped him across the face. Then he laughs. Bitter, scornful laughter.
“Did you really? Because I remember very clearly what you said about me today, Julie! I’m not good enough for anything, so why did you think I could be better than this?”
The cigar ashes fall onto the cushion, crumbling as they slip to the floor. No one notices.
“You really want to do this now?” I ask through clenched teeth, trying not to draw attention.
“Do what? Start a whole conversation about the moment in which that I opened my heart in front of two hundred people and you went on stage to say you only slept with me because you were lonely?” he suggests. “Why would I do that? It’s not like I’m upset or hurt or anything!”
Well, I hated it when he didn’t want to talk. But now it’s just so much worse.
“It was a speech!” I try to justify, knowing it’s a poor excuse. “We’d already caused enough damage. I was just trying to lighten the mood with a joke.”