22
The reception is everything I expected and nothing I was prepared for.
String lights are draped between the trees, casting everything in warm, golden light.
There’s an acoustic duo playing in the corner, guitar and violin, the kind of music that makes everything feel cinematic and significant.
The wine is the expensive kind that people save for special occasions, and everyone’s laughing and talking like they’re in a movie about beautiful people living beautiful lives.
It should feel familiar. I’ve been to fancy events before. I know how to navigate small talk and open bars and the social dynamics of groups where everyone’s trying to impress everyone else.
But this feels different.
Maybe because these are people who knew me before I became whoever I am now. Maybe because I’m hyperaware of Liv next to me, the way she’s charming everyone she meets while staying perfectly in character as my girlfriend.
Maybe because every time someone asks about our relationship, I keep saying things that feel real, but I’m too chicken shit to be honest with her.
“You’re doing great,” Liv whispers to me during a lull in conversation.
“I feel like I’m performing.”
“You are performing. We both are. Dance with me,” she says when the music shifts to something slower.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She takes my hand and leads me to the small dance floor that’s been set up on the terrace. A few other couples are already swaying together, lost in their own worlds.
I pull her closer than I probably should, closer than necessary for the performance, but she doesn’t resist. Her hand rests on my shoulder, and I can feel the warmth of her palm through my shirt. My hand finds the small of her back, and she fits against me like she was designed to be there.
“This is nice,” she says softly.
We move together slowly, and I try to focus on the music instead of how good she feels in my arms.
Her navy dress makes her eyes look darker, and her hair is soft against my cheek when she turns her head, and I can feel every breath she takes.
“You smell good,” I say without thinking.
“Thank you.”
“What is that? Your perfume?”
“Something I found at Target.”
“I thought Target wasn’t a boutique?” I tease and then continue, “Target perfume smells like that?”
“Expensive doesn’t always mean better.”
“Good to know.”
She laughs, and the sound vibrates through her chest where it’s pressed against mine.
“What’s funny?”
“You. Acting like you don’t already shop at Target for cologne.”
I smile. She got me.
“You’re like a middle-aged mom that goes to Target for one thing and then comes out with an entire cart of things.”
I chuckle. “Everything in there is tempting.”
A server appears next to us with a tray of glasses.
“Champagne?” the server asks.
“Sure,” I say, even though the last thing I need is more alcohol when I’m already having trouble thinking straight.
I take two glasses and hand one to Liv, and we step apart enough that I can breathe properly again.
“To Jamie and Sarah,” I say, raising my glass.
“To Jamie and Sarah,” she agrees.
We drink, and I try not to notice the way her lips look against the rim of the glass.
“Want to get some air?” I ask, because the terrace suddenly feels too small and too warm.
“Sure.”
We make our excuses to the people at our table and walk down toward the dunes that separate the venue from the beach. The music fades behind us, replaced by the sound of waves and wind.
“It’s beautiful here,” Liv says, looking out at the water.
“Yeah. It is.”
The wind picks up, and I watch it catch her hair, blowing it across her face. She reaches up to push it back, and the gesture is so unconsciously graceful that I have to look away.
“Your friend seems happy,” she says.
“Jamie? Yeah. He does.”
“It’s nice. Seeing people that sure about each other.”
“You said that earlier. About being sure.”
“Did I?”
“During the ceremony. You asked what I meant about them being sure.”
“Right. I remember.”
“What did you think I meant?”
She’s quiet for a moment, considering the question.
“I think you meant it must be nice to know without a doubt that you want to spend your life with someone. To not have to wonder or worry or second-guess. To just... know.”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I meant.”
“Have you ever felt that way? About someone?”
The question catches me off guard, and for a moment I consider lying. Giving her some vague answer about how I’m still figuring it out or how I haven’t met the right person yet.
Instead, I find myself saying, “I’m starting to.”
“Yeah?” She goes still and awkward, but it’s gone within a breath.
“Yeah.”
She smiles kindly. “That’s... that’s good. I hope it works out.”
“Me too.”
We’re both quiet after that, standing side by side looking out at the ocean, and I can feel the weight of all the things we’re not saying.
“This is weird,” Liv says finally.
I take a sip to avoid whatever she’s about to say next.
She continues anyway, “This. Being here with you. Pretending.”
“Weird?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like we’ve actually been pretending.”
My heart does something complicated in my chest. What the hell do I say to that? Do I burst the facade bubble now? Or do I deny and deflect because admitting this sounds even more terrifying.
I take another sip of champagne and shake my head. I have to tell the truth. “You’re right. It doesn’t.”
I can’t believe I just said that, but now I have to roll with it.
“One of us is going to get confused, West.”
“What if we’re both already confused?” I ask because I know it’s true for me.
She turns to look at me then, and there’s something in her expression that makes my breath catch. In the last light of the sunset, she looks so beautiful it actually hurts.
“West, don’t—”
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. But I need you to know that this—” I gesture between us “—was never fake for me.”
“Really?”
Do I dare to make a move? Do I step forward, grab her face, touch her lips, and confess that I’ve never been able to get her kiss out of my head? What the hell am I supposed to do?
I exhale. “I don’t know. Maybe knowing you since we were basically kids was a reason why I didn’t pull a move.
Then we kissed at Tessa’s wedding, and I had Tessa in my ear that we wouldn’t work.
She said you had too much going on, and so did I, so I had to respect that space and time with your mom.
I didn’t want to make things complicated for you or for me.
I wasn’t even in Washington state that year.
I move around a lot because of hockey. Nothing’s a promise in this career, and it just felt like the timing was never right, but I’ve dated girl after girl, and none of them ever felt right.
None of them could ever compare, and I’ve tried to move on, Liv.
I have. I’ve–” I throw my hands towards the ocean.
“I’ve spent more time trying to not think about the one girl that–”
“There he is!” shouts Harry. “Hey, hockey player. Riddle me this…”
He starts going on and on about hockey stats meanwhile Liv is staring blankly at the ocean. One of the most important conversations was just interrupted because these drunks guys want to talk hockey.
I solve the ridiculous argument they had going, but it doesn’t end there, me and Liv can’t continue to talk because they pull both of us back inside and grab us more champagne.
Liv stares at me as we clink our glasses. We hold eye contact, and I’m dying to know what she’s thinking. I watch her lips and catch myself staring when Harry asks me another hockey question, but I’m in another realm.
In a different scenario, Liv has been my girlfriend all these years, and this wedding would be much more bearable. Not this suffocating, anxiety-inducing, intensity that’s coursing through me right now.
“Right, man?” Harry asks, and I just nod to nod.
Liv watches me over her champagne flute and smiles at me.