Chapter Twenty-Five
MORGAN
“Mrs. Thompson, I don’t know if I can. I haven’t done this kind of thing in a long time and definitely not on a real wedding cake.”
I’m standing in the pavilion’s kitchen where Fran and Mrs. Pax, Leo’s mom, are troubleshooting a mishap.
The wedding cake, a modest but beautiful three-tiered masterpiece, was bumped on the way over.
One edge of the bottom tier took the hit, and apparently, the poor girl who made the delivery doesn’t have a clue how to fix the smeared icing.
The last cake I decorated was the one I face-planted into because I was crying after being dumped by this woman’s son.
Mrs. Pax pats my shoulder. “Oh, honey, this fear is childish. Leo and I have discussed it many times.” The door creaks open as she squeezes my shoulder. “You have to fix the cake. Fran needs you to.”
They’ve discussed this? About me?
“No, you don’t,” comes another voice. “You don’t have to do it.” Suddenly, Will is there, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, pulling me toward the door.
The two women start to protest, but he holds up a hand. “Give us a second.”
We leave the cramped space, and he faces me, gripping my arms. “You okay?”
I nod. Tears are gathering, and since I can’t bear for him to see me cry about this silly thing, I lean forward and press my forehead into his chest.
He freezes but recovers. “You don’t have to do anything. You can tell them off and come back to the reception, or if you don’t want to tell them off, I’ll do it. Just say the word.”
I think he would. He’d do it for me. The thought turns up a corner of my mouth. “Better not.”
He drops his hold and steps back. “Yeah, you’re right. We don’t want to make a scene. But—we could make a run for it.”
I show him my heels.
“I could carry you.”
I give him a look, but I’m smiling now.
He scratches his nose where his sunburn has almost completely faded. “Right. We could create some sort of low-key diversion while the cake is cut. That way, no one sees the problem. Maybe something to do with fireworks, like Black Cats or something.”
I shake my head and lift my palms. “Fresh out of fireworks.”
“Well, that’s pretty much all I’ve got in the way of avoidance.”
His expression screams “you don’t have to avoid this,” but at least he doesn’t say it out loud.
I already know.
I sigh. “We could always arrange for Fran to trip over the cake Morgan-style.”
His mouth drops open before his laugh bursts out. “Yes! I was so hoping you were ready to joke about that.”
“Don’t get excited. For now, only I can joke about it.”
“Noted.”
I shift my feet and let my shoulders sag. “I have to do it, don’t I?”
“You don’t have to.”
“I need to.”
“You don’t need to.”
I meet his gaze. “I want to?”
He doesn’t say anything, but yeah, this is what he expected from me all along. To face the challenge. To get back to the thing I love.
This is a different wedding—a different day. “But I’m not doing it for Fran.”
He makes a face. “Understandable. She’s the worst.”
“She really is.”
“Do you need anything from me?”
“Well, if they ask me to carry a cake out there—”
“I’m on it.”
“Right. And if you’re about to trip over something—”
“You’ll let me know.”
“Good.”
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
“I’ll wait here.”
I head inside and redistribute frosting using piping from the bakery van.
I shift the flowers and rearrange the top tier so the dented edge is now on the backside.
It’s not perfect, but who’s going to notice in the time it’s wheeled out before they cut into it?
I advise Fran to tell the photographer to ensure he’s standing at the right angle to hide any imperfections.
“How’s that?” I step back from my handiwork.
Fran scrutinizes the cake. “Oh, Morgan, this will do. I can only see it a tiny bit.”
Wow. That’s high praise from her.
I’ve missed this. This creative outlet that lets me use my talents to bring joy.
Sure enough, they ask me to help present the cake, and true to his word, Will volunteers in my stead. He doesn’t even stumble.
The photos are taken, the cake is cut, and Ava is happy.
Afterward, Will meanders away, and my mom hugs me when I tell her about the fiasco. “Proud of you, honey. You saved the day.”
Fixing a cake is hardly saving the day, but I let her say it all the same.
Fran claps, addressing the bride and groom. “Time for your first dance as a married couple.”
The DJ gets things started with Hudson and Ava’s song. Across the room, one of Will’s sisters seems to be pushing him toward me. But he holds his ground and waits a minute or so as rehearsed and then starts in my direction, a perfect smile on his face.
But Leo beats him to my side. My ex snakes an arm around my waist and spins me onto the dance floor.
Will pauses, his easy smile disappearing.
I put a hand on Leo’s chest, but he only pulls me closer, turning me away from Will. “Leo, let go. This dance is for the wedding party.”
He glances around, not loosening his grip. “No, it’s not. Look. Everyone’s joining in.”
He’s right. Many other couples are gliding onto the dance floor. The crowd has hidden Will from view. I try to pull away and stretch onto my toes to see him, but Leo holds me tight, swaying to the music.
Other couples swirl around us, and I feel their gazes upon me. Ava watches with a questioning look, Hudson glares, and my parents frown. They’re not Leo fans.
Leo leans into my ear. “Have you had a chance to think about us?”
I lower my heels and focus on the dimpled boy before me. “There is no us.”
“There could be. There should be. I miss you, Morgs.”
I blow a strand of hair out of my face. My hands are resting on his shoulders, but, really, what else was I supposed to do with them when he forced me into a dance? His expression is hopeful, and I have to set him straight.
But I’d like to find Will first.
I crane my neck, but I don’t see him anywhere. So to Leo, I say, “Fine. Let’s go over to the sidewalk. I don’t want to go far.”
Let’s get this over with.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re still arguing.
“What do you mean? I’ve come all this way.”
“I didn’t ask you to come. Remember? I told you I needed to think and focus on this wedding. But you show up here and tell me you’re ready to get back together.”
“Keep thinking if you need to. Just know I’m here. Right in front of you. I rode in the car for three hours to see you.” He grips my forearms, his gaze more intense than I’ve ever seen. “We’re perfect together. You know it’s true.”
“Leo.” I pull my arms back. “We’re not perfect. We never were. Nothing is perfect. Love is messy, and that’s okay. But—”
“Okay, okay. Take some time. I can be patient.”
He keeps talking, droning on about our perfectness, not letting me get a word in.
I’ve always thought he was most handsome with this determined look. No doubt he’s handsome now. It’s a face that gets him far.
He’s used to everything going his way and people doing what he wants. He probably never dreamed I might reject him.
I lift my palm to him. “Leo, stop.”
He grabs my hand and kisses my palm as a new song begins. He grins. “It’s our song.”
I snatch my hand back. “No. Leo, it’s over. Completely over. I don’t need to think. We’re done.”
His smile fades. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do mean it. Accept it, please. We’re not getting back together.”
“But—”
“No buts.” I pick up my long skirt. “I’m going to find my parents. Have a nice trip home.”
I leave him standing there. Rejected—likely for the first time in his life.
I delete his ringtone and return to the pavilion. I find Hudson and Ava in a rare peaceful moment. No crowd of well-wishers surrounds them. I hug them both and congratulate them on how wonderful everything turned out.
“Well, almost everything,” Hudson must be ready to burst with questions. Only Ava’s holding them back.
I adjust one of the bobby pins securing my hair in place. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. You knew I was rooting for Will.” When Ava nudges him, he clears his throat. “But I guess these things don’t always work out. That’s life.”
Ava smiles, trying to be upbeat. “So Leo. Where is he?”
I open my mouth. Close it. Cross my arms. “You think I got back with Leo.”
“Well, yeah. That’s what it looked like. Right? You danced with him instead of Will, all nice and cozy, and then you two disappeared for a while.”
“It was not cozy, and that’s just how long it took for his tiny brain to accept that I told him it was over. Forever.”
“Oh.” Hudson turns to Ava. “That’s—”
She frowns back. “Unfortunate. Should we—”
“Yeah, probably.” He pulls out his phone.
I splay my arms out wide. “I know you’re having some sort of couples-only silent conversation, but remember, I’m standing here.” I rise onto my toes and crane over the dancing mob again. “Where’s Will? I need to talk to him.”
Hudson makes a face. Ava ducks her head and fiddles with her hair.
“What?”
“Will…left.”
I plop back onto my heels, eyes wide. “What do you mean?”
“He left. As in, went home. He was always planning to drive back after the reception. He said his goodbyes several minutes ago. He tried to find you for you, but you were…busy.”