Chapter Twenty Three
Shifting Sands
Ethan
T he buzz of the rehearsal dinner starts to wind down, but Emma still hasn’t quite been herself. All evening, she’s been smiling when someone talks to her, laughing in all the right places, but something’s missing. She hasn’t looked at me—not really. Every time I catch her eyes, she glances away like she’s afraid of what I might see.
It’s like trying to hold onto sand; the harder I try, the more she slips through my fingers.
After the last toast is made and plates start to clear, I finally catch her by the door. “Hey,” I say, keeping my voice light even though my chest feels tight. “You want to come back to my room? We can… talk.”
Emma hesitates, her smile faltering for just a moment before she glances at the floor. “I think I’m just going to head to bed. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow’s going to be a longer day. ”
Her words hit harder than I expect. I search her face, looking for some indication this isn’t what it sounds like. But all I see is her guarded expression, the way she’s avoiding my eyes.
“Are you okay?” I ask softly, leaning in so no one else can hear.
“Yeah,” she says quickly, almost too quickly. “Just tired. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
Before I can respond, she’s gone, blending into the crowd as she heads for the elevators. I stand there, rooted in place, trying to piece together what just happened. Something’s wrong—something more than just wedding stress—but for now, all I can do is let her go.
I linger in the lobby for a moment, staring at the elevator doors as they close behind her. Something about her smile, the way she spoke, feels… off. She said she was tired, and maybe she is, but I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it.
Back in my room, I kick off my shoes and sink onto the edge of the bed, my phone resting in my hand. For a moment, I debate whether I should text her or just let it go. But the uneasy twist in my gut wins out.
Ethan : Hey, just wanted to check on you. You seemed a little quiet earlier. Hope you’re okay.
I hit send and toss the phone on the nightstand, running a hand through my hair. Maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe she’s just tired, like she said.
The minutes tick by, and my phone remains silent. Finally, I reach for it again, only to see the small “read” receipt beneath my message.
She saw it. She’s choosing not to answer.
The realization twists something sharp in my chest. I toss the phone back onto the nightstand and force myself to lie down, staring at the ceiling. I tell myself not to jump to conclusions, not to assume the worst. But it’s hard to fight the growing sense that something is slipping through my fingers—and I don’t know how to stop it.
……………………………………………………………
The wedding day dawns with a flurry of activity. I spend most of the morning in Jace’s suite with the other groomsmen, helping him get ready and keeping things light.
Jace is quieter than usual, his usual confidence muted under a layer of nerves. He adjusts his cufflinks for the third time, scowling at his reflection.
“Relax,” I say, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got this.”
He gives me a tight smile. “Yeah, I know. It’s just… a lot. ”
His tone catches me off guard. Jace is the most self-assured guy I know, but right now, he looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world.
“You sure you’re good?” I ask, lowering my voice so the others can’t hear.
He hesitates before nodding, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. “Yeah. Just wedding jitters, I guess.”
I watch him for a moment longer, debating whether to push, but I let it go. Everyone gets cold feet, right?
……………………………………………………………
The ceremony is perfect. Sierra looks stunning, her gown catching the light as she glides down the aisle on her father’s arm. Jace stands at the altar, his expression softening the moment he sees her. It’s like nothing else exists for him but her. I can’t help but admire the way he seems to settle, the tension visibly melting from his shoulders as she approaches.
For a second, I let myself imagine what it would feel like to stand up here with Emma, to see her walking toward me, knowing she’s mine. The thought catches me off guard, a pang of longing I didn’t expect tightening in my chest.
But then my eyes drift to where Emma stands off to the side with the other bridesmaids, her bouquet clutched tightly in her hands. Her dress hugs her in all the right places, and the soft curl of her hair frames her face like a halo. She looks perfect, every inch the elegant bridesmaid, but something’s off. The smile on her face is picture-perfect, the kind you’d expect for a wedding, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s like she’s somewhere else entirely, a million miles away.
I try to focus on the ceremony, but my thoughts keep drifting back to her. What happened between last night and this morning?
Sierra begins her vows, her voice trembling slightly as she speaks, and it pulls me back to the moment. Her words are heartfelt, filled with promises of love and partnership, and Jace listens intently, his eyes never leaving hers. But as she finishes, I catch a flicker of something in Jace’s expression when he glances briefly at Sarah, sitting a few rows back with the other guests. It’s quick, almost imperceptible, but it’s there.
Sarah’s reaction is harder to miss. Her eyes glisten, and for a moment, I think she’s just emotional about the wedding. But then her gaze drops to her lap, and her hands tighten around the clutch in her lap like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. She doesn’t look back up, not even when Jace clears his throat and begins his vows.
His words falter slightly at the start, the pause stretching just long enough to draw a few confused murmurs from the crowd. But he recovers, delivering vows that are as polished as they are sincere. He’s good at this, at saying all the right things, but there’s a tension in his jaw that wasn’t there a moment ago.
I glance between him and Sarah again, wondering if I’m the only one picking up on whatever the hell is going on. But the ceremony continues without a hitch, the guests seemingly none the wiser.
When Sierra and Jace share their first kiss as husband and wife, the crowd erupts into cheers, the moment bright and joyful. They walk down the aisle hand in hand, grinning as petals are tossed in their direction. Emma and I follow a few pairs behind them, our steps perfectly in sync as we make our way down the aisle.
The soft brush of her arm against mine sends a jolt of awareness through me, and I lean closer, lowering my voice. “Emma,” I whisper, keeping my tone gentle. “Can we talk?”
She glances at me, her expression carefully neutral, but before she can respond, we’re ushered into the greeting line behind the bride and groom. The moment slips through my fingers, and I can’t shake the nagging feeling that whatever is bothering her isn’t just in my head.
……………………………………………………………
By the time the reception kicks off, I’m done playing it cool. I’ve spent the entire day replaying every moment with Emma, trying to figure out where I went wrong. If I don’t get answers soon, I’m going to lose my damn mind.
I spot her near the edge of the dance floor, her hand wrapped around a champagne flute. She’s talking to Sarah, but her smile is tight, her posture stiff.
I cross the room, dodging tipsy relatives and energetic kids until I’m standing in front of her. “Emma,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Can we talk?”
She hesitates, glancing at Sarah before nodding. “Sure.”
I lead her outside to the garden, the cool night air a sharp contrast to the heat of the reception hall. The stars are bright overhead, but I can’t focus on anything but her.
“What’s going on?” I ask, crossing my arms to keep from reaching for her. “You’ve been… off all day. Did I do something?”
Emma’s eyes widen briefly before she shakes her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s…” She takes a deep breath, her gaze darting to the ground. “Ethan, I think… I think we made a mistake.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “A mistake?”
She nods, her arms wrapping around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. “Last night was… perfect. But it shouldn’t have happened. ”
“Why not?” I take a step closer, keeping my voice steady even though my chest feels like it’s caving in. “Emma, talk to me. What’s going on?”
She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “Because this—us—it’s too much. You have your life, Ethan, and I have mine. I can’t risk going through everything again. Not when you’ll just leave.”
Her words hit like a sucker punch, but it’s the look in her eyes that twists the knife. “Leave? Emma, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head again. “That’s what you said before. And we both know how that ended. It’s better this way.”
“Better?” My voice rises, and I force myself to take a breath. “How is this better, Emma? I thought… I thought we were finally on the same page.”
Her gaze flickers to mine, pain etched into every line of her face. “I don’t belong in your life, Ethan. You have your career…we can’t pretend like this is going to work.”
I step closer, my hands gripping her shoulders gently. “Emma, look at me. Whatever’s going on, we can figure it out. But don’t push me away.”
She pulls back, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t do this.”
Before I can respond, she turns and walks away, leaving me standing alone in the garden with her words ringing in my ears.
I watch her retreating figure, her steps quick and determined, and for a moment, I’m frozen. Her words echo in my mind, each one like a stone sinking deeper into my chest. I try to make sense of what just happened, why she’s pulling away when everything between us felt so right last night.
My hands clench at my sides, frustration building like a pressure cooker. She’s slipping through my fingers, and every instinct screams at me not to let it happen.
“Emma!” I call after her, my voice sharper than I intend, cutting through the quiet of the garden. She doesn’t stop. My chest tightens with every step she takes away from me, and something inside me snaps. I’m not about to let her walk away from me like this.
I storm after her, the gravel crunching beneath my feet, until I catch up just as she reaches the edge of the path leading back inside. My hand wraps gently but firmly around her arm, holding her in place.
She turns to face me, her expression a mix of surprise and frustration, but before she can say anything, I cut her off.
“Do you have any idea how much I fucking love you, Emma?” The words spill out of me, raw and unfiltered. My chest heaves as I struggle to catch my breath, the intensity of the moment threatening to overwhelm me. “I always have. From the moment we met. And yeah, I’ve screwed up, but don’t you dare stand here and tell me this doesn’t mean anything to you.”
Her lips part, but no words come out. She looks at me, her eyes wide, glistening with unshed tears, and it only fuels the fire in my chest.
“I have waited years for this, for you,” I continue, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. “And I’m not giving up. So if you’re going to walk away, you better have a damn good reason, because I’m not letting you go without a fight.”
She pulls her arm from my grasp, her expression hardening. “Ethan, stop. Please.” Her voice trembles, betraying the steel in her words. “This… whatever this is between us—it’s not going to work. It’s better if we just let it go now before it gets any harder.”
Her words hit like a punch to the gut, but I refuse to back down. “Why, Emma? Why are you pushing me away? Just tell me the truth.”
Her jaw tightens, her eyes darting away from mine. “It’s better this way. For both of us.”
“Better for who? Because it sure as hell isn’t better for me,” I snap, my voice rising despite my best efforts to stay calm. “You’re scared, and I get that. But don’t you dare try to tell me that what we have isn’t worth fighting for. ”
Her gaze meets mine again, and for a fleeting moment, I see the cracks in her armor—the pain, the fear, the love she’s trying so desperately to bury. But just as quickly, she shuts it down, shaking her head.
“I can’t do this, Ethan,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”
And then she’s gone, slipping through the doorway and leaving me standing there in the garden, my chest heaving, my hands clenched at my sides.
Her words replay in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. I stand there, staring at the empty doorway, my chest heaving, my thoughts spinning. She’s running from something, but what?
I take a deep breath, dragging a hand through my hair as the cool night air stings my skin. She can push me away all she wants, but I’m not walking away from this. From her.
Whatever’s going on, I’ll figure it out. I don’t care what it takes—I’m not giving up. Not on her. Not on us.