Chapter 18 Dominic
Dominic
Then
Eric’s fingers shake as he goes from fiddling with his bow tie to the lapels of his tuxedo, and I nudge him with my elbow to make him stop.
We’ve been standing at the altar for almost fifteen minutes, and the waves of nervous energy floating off of him into the air around us are wreaking havoc on the ball of dread in the pit of my stomach.
I should be used to it now, after carrying it around for so fucking long, but today it feels extra heavy. Today the jealous, covetous poison sloshing around inside of me feels like enough to break open the floor and drag me down to the depths of hell where I deserve to be.
Because what kind of man stands beside his lifelong best friend, his brother, knowing just twelve hours ago he was standing outside his future wife’s hotel suite with a truth that would destroy everything gathered on his tongue?
A fucked-up bastard of a man.
I don’t know how I pulled myself away from Sloane’s door but walking away from her—choosing to suffer so the two people I love more than anything can be happy together—was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
At least that’s what I thought at the moment, but standing here with Eric right now, I know the pain has only just begun.
“What’s taking so long?” Eric’s panicked eyes meet mine. “You don’t think she’s having second thoughts, do you?”
I shake my head. “About you? Never. I’m sure it just took them a little longer than planned to get ready.”
“Right. You’re probably right.”
“I am. Now fix your face, you look like you’re the one having second thoughts.”
He laughs and turns his back to me. “Screw you.”
“I mean, I’m open, but I’m pretty sure your wife wouldn’t be too happy about sharing you on her wedding day.”
Eric coughs to cover up the shocked laughter shaking his shoulders, and for the first time today, I smile a real smile.
I even manage to keep it up when the doors fling open and the bridesmaids walk in, but the moment the bride’s processional starts, it dies on my lips.
One by one, the muscles in my body go slack and then turn rigid until I’m nothing but a living, breathing statue with stone features.
The door swings open again and everyone’s eyes land on the angel at the end of the aisle.
My heart stutters to a stop. I was prepared to see her in white again—it is her wedding day after all—but nothing I imagined could have done the floral lace bodice hugging her torso or the full tulle skirt swirling around her legs justice.
Her father has his arm linked in hers, and she’s already crying.
The silent tears slipping down her cheeks make her look infinitely more beautiful as she stares at Eric the way she always does.
With love, hope, and possibility dancing in the pools of hazel.
And not a fucking shadow, or single spark of the flame I thought matched mine, in sight.
It’s all the reminder I need to tuck away my feelings and slide on the mask I’ll be counting on to get me through the rest of my life. As soon as it clicks into place, I force myself to look anywhere but at Sloane as she closes in on the altar.
Since Eric’s shoulders are in my direct line of sight, I decide to make them my focal point for the rest of the ceremony, only looking up from them when I have to pull Sloane’s wedding band out of my pocket and hand it to Eric.
When he turns around to grab it from me, his smile is the biggest I’ve ever seen, and I allow myself to take comfort in it.
My best friend is happy.
The woman I love is happy.
I can live with a shattered heart if it means theirs get to stay whole.
***
“Pop, I have to go. They’re giving speeches, and I’m pretty sure I’m next.”
It’s a lie. My speech was over an hour ago, and right after I gave it, I abandoned the reception hall for the quiet comfort of the hallway where I don’t have to try to hide the ache in my chest at seeing Eric and Sloane together.
It shouldn’t hurt like this. I’ve watched them together for years now, and they’ve basically been living in the loft for the past few months, but there’s something about the wedding bands flashing on their fingers as they hold hands and kiss at the table that makes it all more devastating.
And ending up on the phone with my dad is only making me more irritable. He never calls me, but it’s fitting that he would come out of the woodwork on the worst day of my life.
“Still don’t know why I didn’t get an invite,” he gripes. “Eric grew up in my house.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“Well, we’ve already established we remember things differently.”
Yes, because you keep trying to rewrite history.
“Can you just tell me why you called so I can go?”
He coughs roughly, and the sound grates on my nerves. “Damn, boy. You can’t give your old man five minutes to let you know he’s dying?”
The whole world stops spinning and a wave of emotions I don’t understand washes over me.
I wouldn’t say I’m sad, but there’s a definite note of melancholy lacing the feelings swirling around in my gut.
Probably stemming from the childish part of me that still loves him even though he’s never done a damn thing to deserve it.
I scrub my hand over my face. “What are you talking about?”
“Lung cancer, Nic.”
A door opens from somewhere behind me, and the noise of the celebration going on in the reception hall spills out.
The sounds hit the quiet hallway in a quick burst then go quiet again when the door slams. I turn my head, hoping no one has come looking for me, and lose my breath when I see Sloane walking down the hall.
“I’ve got to go, Pop.”
I hang the phone up and put it in my pocket before turning to face her.
By some twist of fate, we’re the only two people out here, but I know it won’t be long before someone comes looking for her.
She’s the bride after all. And the most beautiful one I’ve seen in my life.
I press my lips together to keep myself from saying that, or anything else, to her as she walks past me.
The same way she did years ago when one look in her eyes changed my entire life.
Only this time, she stops in front of me and turns on her heel.
There’s a steely determination in her eyes when they land on me, and even though I know I’m in no condition to talk to her right now, I can’t bring myself to look away.
She comes to a stop in front of me, and her perfectly manicured fingers are on her wedding band, spinning it around in a gesture I can’t help but read as nervous.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
I recoil as if she’s physically struck me, and she might as well have, because hearing her repeat the first words she ever said to me makes it feel like someone’s ripping my heart right out of my chest.
“Why?”
Her teeth sink into the flesh of her bottom lip. “I was hoping we could come to some kind of agreement about how to navigate our relationship now that we’re…family.”
The laugh blooming in my throat tastes bitter as hell. Of all the things I dreamed of being with her, family isn’t one of them. At least not in the way she means. “I have no interest in being your family, Sloane.”
She holds her left hand up, and the light catches her ring. “Kind of late for that.”
“Marrying Eric makes you his family, not mine.”
I watch my words kill all the hope she had in her eyes when she marched out here, and I wish I felt bad for the way they hurt her.
Her shoulders sag, and her jaw tenses as a single spark turns into a full-blown flame.
And standing there, with those soft black curls cascading down her back contrasting perfectly with the angelic white of her dress, she looks more like the woman I fell in love with than she has in years.
“So you plan to treat me like this for the rest of our lives?”
Both of my hands turn into fists, and I shove them into my pockets as I step into her orbit. Her scent floods my nostrils, the same fruity, floral notes from a lifetime ago making my stomach churn.
“I plan to do you a favor and forget you wasted my time with this pointless conversation. Let’s just call it my wedding gift to you.”
Her lips part, and I can see all the things she wants to say scrolling across her features like a billboard. Reading her is second nature to me at this point, like blinking or taking my next breath, and I know every word her response will contain before she says them.
“You’re such an asshole, Dominic. I don’t know why I ever thought we could be anything more than what we are right now.”
With a swish of her skirts and a withering glare, she twists on her heels and marches away. I watch her go, wondering how I’m going to survive the rest of my life with the weight of all the things I dreamed of being with her threatening to crush me.