Chapter 18 #2
I proceeded up the aisle, searching for Frasier in the crowd.
I spied him quickly, drinking him in, feeling anchored and centered.
He wore a creamy linen suit that showed off his athlete’s physique—broad shoulders, tapered waist, powerful thighs.
And now I knew what he looked like beneath his suit.
My cheeks heated, and I dipped my head briefly, biting back a smile as I took my place beside the floral arch.
When I lifted my head once more, our eyes met instantly, and Frasier placed his hand over his heart.
Then he tapped twice. My smile broadened as I was filled with gratitude and relief.
He was checking in, as always. I tapped the stem of my bouquet twice in answer.
His shoulders relaxed, and something inside me did too.
Brooke flounced in, tossing rose petals like she had an endless supply. The guests gushed over her, and we all tried not to laugh too hard when she ran out midway up the aisle and then charged toward her dad. He scooped her up, making her giggle before tucking her into his side.
The song changed, shifting to something even slower and more romantic. And then my sister was standing at the end of the aisle, my parents flanking her. It made me think of my own wedding day.
But when everyone stood and turned to watch her procession, I couldn’t stop looking at Frasier.
Couldn’t stop thinking about this enormous shift that had occurred in our relationship, altering it so fundamentally in such a short time.
It wasn’t just our relationship, though; it was a shift in my way of thinking.
Allie’s question about getting married again, as well as my response, had shown me just how much had changed. How much I wanted to change.
I thought about what Meghan Hart and Penelope Glass had written in my signed copy of their latest book.
The best love stories have no end. Here’s to your happily ever after.
I still loved Derek; I would always love Derek. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t make room for love in my life again. Just because that chapter of my life had ended differently than I’d hoped or expected didn’t mean my story was done. Over.
My gaze landed on Frasier, and that was when I saw it. A gorgeous, bright-orange butterfly was hovering just above his head. I blinked a few times, positive I was imagining it. But then several other guests around him seemed to spot the beautiful creature, pointing at it and whispering.
Everyone else soon turned their attention to Allie, watching her progress down the aisle. But I couldn’t look away from Frasier. Especially not when the butterfly fluttered down, landing on Frasier’s lapel, just over his heart.
Frasier stilled, looking down at the delicate creature before carefully lifting his head to meet my gaze. His eyes were glassy, because he knew what butterflies meant to me. He knew that they represented Derek to me.
And it felt like a sign. Almost as if Derek were giving his permission for Frasier and me to be together.
I dabbed at the corner of my eye, hoping everyone would chalk it up to the emotions of the day.
But of all the people here, I knew only Frasier would understand the true reason for my tears or what they signified.
The longer I stood there, the officiant extolling the values of love and marriage, the more I realized something. I was grateful for the sign, but I hadn’t needed it. Because my heart, mind, and body had already pointed me in the right direction—to Frasier.
Before I knew it, Allie and Kit had been pronounced husband and wife.
The bridesmaid to my right nudged me, and I realized that the ceremony was over.
Kit and Allie, the maid of honor and best man, had already proceeded down the aisle, and now all eyes were on me.
I cringed, smiling awkwardly as I headed for the groomsman who would walk me out.
I leaned in, whispering, “Sorry,” to Hayden.
He chuckled. “No worries. I find it difficult to stop looking at him too.”
I laughed, giving Hayden’s bicep a squeeze.
We joined the others farther down the beach, waiting for Allie and Kit and the rest of my immediate family. On the plus side, there were custom cocktails for the wedding party. But while the rest of the guests enjoyed a separate cocktail hour, we took photo after photo after photo.
I needed to be alone with Frasier, talk to him. And I wasn’t the only one impatient to move on. Brooke—like all of us—was getting antsy.
“Are we done yet?” She pouted. “I want cake.”
Poor Brooke. There wouldn’t be cake for a while yet. But I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that. Her dad handed her a piece of candy, coaxing her to smile.
My parents were released to join the party, along with some of the other family members. Then the groomsmen. Then, finally, the bridesmaids.
I made my way over to our assigned table at the reception.
Frasier was sipping a rum concoction and talking with Kit’s friend Hayden.
Frasier stood as I approached, smiling, but something seemed off.
I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he didn’t seem as relaxed as he had when I’d left the bungalow this morning.
My gaze darted between Frasier and Hayden, trying to determine whether there was some animosity between them.
But Hayden seemed mellow enough, so I didn’t think that was it.
I wondered if some of the other guests had harassed Frasier for autographs or photos.
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
It probably wasn’t obvious to anyone else, but I knew him well enough that I could tell something was bothering him.
“You are stunning,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to my temple.
“Thank you.” I held Frasier for an extra beat, pressing up on my toes to kiss his cheek before whispering, “You okay?”
Instead of answering, he stepped back, reaching into his pocket to remove his phone. “Sorry. I have to take this.” He dropped a quick peck on my cheek. “I’ll be back.”
That was…odd. And now I was really worried.
A few of my cousins came over to say hello, but I excused myself, heading in the direction in which Frasier had disappeared. He was farther down the beach, and I couldn’t hear the words he said over the roar of the ocean waves. But I could tell from his posture that he was upset.
What on earth is going on?
I debated whether to stay. Ultimately, I remained there, ensuring no one else came by, while trying to give Frasier privacy.
When he ended the call, he stared out at the ocean.
He linked his hands, placing them behind his neck before looking up to the sky.
I studied him, my worry increasing the longer he remained.
I’d inched closer, trying to give him space but wanting to be there for him.
Finally, when I couldn’t take it any longer, I closed the remaining distance between us.
I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Frasier?”
He straightened as if donning his armor. I’d never known him to act like that—at least, not with me anyway. On the ice, sure. In public, absolutely. But here with me? Alone on the beach in the middle of paradise?
He turned to face me, adopting a relaxed expression. But it didn’t fool me. “Sorry about that.”
“What’s going on?” I asked. He opened his mouth, and I added, “And don’t even try telling me nothing’s wrong.”
His jaw was set in a hard line. “We should be enjoying your sister’s wedding. We can talk about it later.”
“I’m worried about you.” I softened my tone. “Talk to me, Bear. What’s bothering you?”
When he still didn’t answer, I said, “Come on.” I tugged on his hand and led him over to a low stone wall overlooking the water. He placed his jacket on the wall before waiting for me to sit.
“Thank you.”
He paced back and forth then stopped, and my blood pressure skyrocketed. Whatever was going on was…not good. I tried not to panic, but Frasier was usually so calm, even on the ice. Even when he had every right to lose his cool.
He took a seat next to me, lacing his fingers with mine. “Jules is in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” I asked, my mind jumping to all sorts of conclusions based on what I knew about Frasier’s brother and their complicated past.
“He owes someone dangerous a lot of money.”
I grimaced. I could imagine what that meant. I placed my free hand over our clasped ones. “I’m sorry. You hadn’t said anything about him for a while, so I’d hoped he was doing better.”
Frasier shook his head then dropped it to his chest. “He’s a fucking mess. I’ve offered to pay for rehab countless times, but he won’t go. Instead, he keeps causing problems—for himself, my parents, me.”
“That’s hard,” I said, wishing I’d realized how bad things had gotten. Wishing I’d been there more for Frasier.
“It fucking sucks.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “And I promised myself that I wouldn’t let it interfere with the wedding. Yet here we are.”
Had Frasier been juggling this since before the trip? I mean, yes. Obviously. It was an ongoing situation. But I wondered how long he’d been dealing with this latest crisis.
“You know I understand, right?” I asked. “If you need to leave to be with your family. Or you need to make some calls. Or you want to head back to the bungalow and relax.”
He shook his head. “I’ve done everything I can. For now, I just want to enjoy tonight and the time we have left here.” He pulled me onto his lap, and I curled into him. “This trip has been wonderful, and I’m not ready for it to end.”
“Me either,” I whispered.
It was the perfect opening, and it would’ve been a great opportunity to bring up what this was. What it all meant. But Frasier was already dealing with so much, and I got the feeling that what he needed was a distraction.
I stood, holding out my hand. “I have an idea, but we’ll have to be quick.”
He quirked one eyebrow. “What kind of idea?” I bent forward and whispered in his ear. Then he said, “I fucking love this idea,” in a gravelly voice.
I grinned, removing my shoes before taking off down the beach. Frasier chased after me, our laughter floating on the breeze.