Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lukas
Waverly has to leave at an ungodly hour to get ready for the wedding and, a tiny detail I forgot, she’s a morning person. She’s chipper like a squirrel running between my bathroom and my kitchen while I watch from the comfort of my bed. Is this what waking up will be like for… well however long we last this time?
And do I like it?
Before she leaves, Waverly presses her lips to my forehead. “See you later.”
I grab her wrist, holding her still for a moment. “Do we need a code word if the wedding gets to be too much for you?”
“For me?” She backs up, touching her chest in shock. “What about you?”
I’ve been dealing with their bullshit for my whole life, I’ve got thick armor. Waverly hasn’t experienced my mother’s backlash or my brother’s pettiness. I need to protect her.
“Fine, we’ll both use a code word if we need to break from the drama.”
She thinks for a few seconds then offers, “House cow or pig farm?” Then she taps her chin in further thought. “I guess there’s a possibility of mixing those two and getting a house pig and a cow farm.”
“Or a house farm and a pig cow.”
She straightens her shoulders, and her pride lights my room more than the rising sun. “Look at you. One night with me and you’re already telling jokes. I might get you to smile in public in a week.”
I release her from my grasp and cross both arms around my chest. “I smile. I’m a happy guy.”
Even as the words leave my lips, I don’t believe them. And I know she doesn’t either. But she has a solution for that too. Because, of course she does.
She rests her fingers on my cheeks and kisses me again, sweet and adoring. “I’ll be happy enough for both of us.”
I want to pull her back into bed, make sure she never leaves again, but Waverly would never abandon Angie on her wedding today. Besides, I'll have Wave for the rest of my life.
Moments later, she closes the front door and I’m alone.
But her imprint is still on my sheets and it’s only a few hours until we’re together again. I might be alone, but for the first time in a long time, I’m not lonely.
The morning is spent catching up on paperwork for the studio, reviewing commissions, and scheduling appointments. Uneventful. I shower, shit, and shave, pack an overnight bag with a few extra surprises for Waverly, and get in my tux moments before Darren texts me from the parking lot that he’s waiting for me.
“Whoa,” he says as I throw my overnight bag in the back of his car.
“What?”
I plan on smacking the smirk off his face as he sings, “What did you last night?”
“Sleep?”
“Alone?”
“None of your damn business.” I pull out my phone and put in earbuds so I don’t need to talk to him, but I can tell something is on his mind. “What did you mean by ‘whoa’?”
He puts the car in drive and keeps his eyes ahead. “Well, on a good day, you’re about an eight, but today you’re going to outshine the groom, which is rude. You’ve got a general good vibe thing going on.” When he gets to the stop sign, he takes a picture of me and sends it to someone.
Darren continues to drive when his phone rings through the car speaker. I recognize the voice instantly. “Sooo, how’s Waverly?” Grae asks.
“You’re allowed to have phones in rehab?”
“I am if I’m supervised. Plus I get out in a few days, so they’re getting lax with the rules. But I’m not important. How’s Waverly?”
“None of your business,” I say and look out the window.
Darren shrugs. “I guess you aren’t worried about her breaking your heart anymore?”
Grae says, “Dick wins again.”
I don’t like them thinking I’m a sex crazed lunatic or any negative implications for Waverly. “It’s more than just sex,” I mumble under my breath. “It always was.”
Darren slams on the brakes at a yellow light. “What?”
“Say that again, louder,” Grae orders.
People walk through the intersection, eyes focused on the path ahead, unaware of my life and my turmoil over the last few hours. “We were destined for each other and last night we realized how much we lost.”
“Did you ever figure out what happened to your journal?” There’s an edge of panic in Grae’s voice. “That’s your journal, your portfolio, all your work.”
Even if Waverly said it didn’t matter where it was or why she didn’t get it, it’s still an itch I can’t scratch. “I don’t know, but I believe her when she says it wasn’t there.”
Grae says, “Shit. How are you doing?”
Damn. If he isn’t the nicest guy in the whole world. “I’m… a lot of different things.” And it’s true. Sifting through all the conflicting emotions to find one dominating feeling is using up most of my brain power today. I’m happy she’s back in my life, angry I lost so much time with her, terrified we’ll hurt each other again, and antsy because I can’t wait to see her again.
But Darren and Waverly are right, today is about the bride and groom. Angie’s always been there for me. To the best of her ability, anyway. She deserves her day. “Don’t say anything to Angie or Kyle. We're waiting until the wedding is over.”
Grae laughs. “Who the hell am I going to tell? Hey, Nurse Jorge, my tattoo artist is hooking up with his sister’s best friend.” There’s a long stretch of silence. “He gave the thumbs up.”
Darren rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I think he was talking about me. My lips are sealed. Don’t lose your shit when you see Adam today.”
I won. He lost. A warm glow of petty vengeance builds in my stomach. She picked me over him.
“I’ll be fine.”
Grae pipes in. “Wait, who’s Adam?”
Darren supplies the answer, “Lukas’s half brother and Waverly’s ex who proposed to her a few days ago at his sister’s bridal brunch.”
“WHAT!” Grae screeches through the car speakers.
“Um, seems like a minor detail,” I grumble.
Grae is now relaying the information to his nurse who says, “Dammmmmn.”
I can see the church around the corner, and it’s as good a signal as any that it’s time to shut down this conversation. “We’re here. Got to go.” Grae startto protest but I press the end call button and glare at Darren. “Was that really necessary?”
“No, but it was fun.”
We ride in silence until Darren pulls into the parking lot. In the group chat we had a whole plan about what to do with his car after the wedding ceremony and when we get to the hotel for the reception, but honestly, I wasn’t paying attention.
The group chat has been buzzing all morning. My sister and her soon to be husband have been dominating the conversation with questions and checking in.
T-minus forty-five minutes.
Darren and I grab our stuff and head into the church where the wedding planner leads us to a meeting room. This is the groom holding pen until it’s time to go to the altar.
Down a side hallway by the meeting room, Richard is on the phone. He’s pacing back and forth, rubbing his neck. When I was younger, he seemed like a towering giant of poshness and money, but his tux is rented and he’s pulling at his hair. It’s only because the acoustics of this space makes it easy to hear that I get an inkling of why he’s such a mess.
“No, I didn’t sign those papers. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I can’t imagine how he might feel finding out how much money went missing when I was a kid. I guess it’s still a problem now.
In the meeting room, Kyle is the happiest I’ve ever seen him. He’s got frantic energy, hopping on both feet. “I should’ve rented a bounce house before the wedding.”
“Angie vetoed it because she didn’t want you to break your leg,” I remind him. He side-eyes me and then goes back to bouncing.
Kyle’s dad and a man I assume is an uncle are huddled in a corner, making general small talk. They’re standing, hands in pockets in that ‘I’m trying really hard to look comfortable in a suit’ sort of way. Kyle’s brother leans against the wall, scrolling on his phone. We’re only waiting for about five minutes when the door opens.
Waverly enters with a tote bag in her hands. The bulky tote is out of place in front of her delicate silky dress that drapes extra fabric around her neckline. Her hair is in some ornate braid with foxtail flowers woven through. And her soft pink lips make me want to taste them.
Stepping forward, I take the tote from her. “Everyone looks so fancy,” she says, stepping past me and, holy shit , there’s no back to her dress. It’s just straps, and drips scandalously low to her hips. My tattoo peeks out, my permanent mark on her. She’s not wearing a bra and I’m mostly sure she’s going commando.
Kyle’s brother lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Waverly, you’re sexy as hell.”
Until now, I didn’t have much of an opinion of Kyle’s brother. I never even bothered to learn his name. Now? I’m imagining throat punching him and watching him cough up blood.
This asshat starts approaching her with a too confident swagger, rubbing his chin as he continues to check her out. “Hey, I’m sorry to hear about you and Adam. If you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”
Yep, I’m going to jail tonight.
She gives him a polite smile. “That’s sweet, but it’s not a loss I’m grieving.”
Well put, love. “What are you doing here?” I say, harsher than I intend.
Her smile could end all the wars in my head. “Angie asked me to check on you guys. She wanted to make sure you were watered and fed before you go to the altar.”
Waverly crosses the room to Kyle, and her sweetness and concern makes him stop bouncing. She brushes his tux with her hands, smoothing it out. “Kyle, what do you know about my family?”
He gives a little chuckle. “There’s rumor you’re in the Irish mob or something.”
Her smile falls slowly, and the glowing kindness is replaced with ice. “‘Or something’ is correct. If you hurt Angie, that will make me very sad, and I’ll have to tell my uncles and cousins.” She leans in closer. “The police will never find your body.”
Kyle’s eyes dart toward me and I give him a little confirmation nod. He swallows and says, “I love Angie with my whole soul.”
Waverly’s smile returns instantly. “I know.” She taps him on the nose. “Boop.” Then she sashays away, sparing me one quick glance. “See you guys in a few!” The door closes behind her and all her light is gone.
The men in the room are shocked, eyes wide, jaws slack. I believe they’ve just been Waverly’d.
I take out my phone and send her a text.
Me: Meet me somewhere, I want your cum on my cock in ten minutes.
Waverly: No
I blink at the screen, rereading her answer.
Me: What do you mean no?
Waverly: I’m not spending the next hour and a half squeezing my thighs together to keep your cum from dripping down my leg.
Well, that’s graphic.
Darren peeks over my shoulder and laughs.
Me: I don’t think you fully understand the dynamic.
Waverly: Oh, I understand it.
Waverly: Sir, I apologize for saying no to you.
Reading the word Sir sends all the blood to my cock.
Waverly: I hope your punishment will be fair since my response to your request is reasonable.
I start typing. But she’s faster.
Waverly: Because I said no, I’m sure you’ll spend the entire evening thinking of ways to make me beg yes.
Darren mutters, “She’s a fast student.”
My cheeks burn.
Me: At the reception, give me a tour of your new hotel, and drop to your knees to prove it to me.
She sends me a thumbs up emoji. Thumbs up? Really?
I laugh and the other men look at me. “What the hell was that noise?” Kyle asks. He side-eyes me for a second, then squints. “What could be so funny it made the grumpiest guy on earth laugh? What, did you see a video of a toddler falling?”
Ouch. I’m not grumpy.
Me: Am I grumpy, like the kind of guy who laughs at children getting hurt?
Waverly: Should I really answer? I’m already in trouble for telling you no.
Me: Grumble.
Waverly: You answered your own question. GTG
I slide my phone into my inner jacket pocket and everyone else watches me like I’m some sort of mythical creature. “What?”
Kyle throws his hands in the air like a picture of Jesus holding a bleeding heart. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He smiles, “I’m happy for you.”
“Why?”
His eyes get wide, but he pinches his lips. He shrugs. “No reason.”
Before I can ask him any follow-up questions, a woman in a light pink suit comes in. She has a tablet, an earpiece, and was at the dress rehearsal last night. So, unless she’s a relative, it’s a safe bet she’s the wedding planner.
“Show time, gentleman.”
The altar is decorated with Christmas trees and various white and blue flowers. My artistic heart is pleased by the color combination and the use of textures in the arrangements. My mother’s husband’s billion-year-old mother approaches and offers her elbow. I’ve met this woman a couple times in my life, but she’s got dementia and I don’t expect her to remember me.
“Are you one of Carol’s sons?”
“Yes.” We walk together, I hold her gently but firmly, providing support.
“Are you the one who they’re all in a tizzy about, costing them money?”
Yep, dementia. “I’m pretty sure they forgot I’m even at this wedding.”
“They forgot about me, too.” She laughs in a whispery way. “My nurses had to call to get the car. Ungrateful little bastards.”
I love this old woman and I will protect her with my whole being.
We walk to the second row on the bride’s side and I help her into the pew. “You’re a nice boy.” She pats my arm and a slow grandmotherly smile appears.
I’m about to walk back to see who else needs to be ushered in, but Kyle’s brother walks my mom down the aisle. Yep, that tracks, she’d rather have a stranger usher her than her own son.
This doesn’t go unnoticed by my new favorite geriatric. “Gold digging, bitch,” she mutters under her breath.
Yep, I love this woman.
There’s a few seats still open in the front row. Some familiar faces from summer parties from years ago fill the next three rows. I noticed a woman in a light green dress a little too low cut for the occasion. Her hair is long and has big curls at the end. I don’t recognize her, but she’s taking up prime real estate. My brother is nowhere to be found. Good. One less thing Waverly, Angie, and I have to put up with.
The music starts and I head to my spot, third in line behind Kyle and his dead-to-me brother. There’s movement along the side of the pew, far from the center aisle. Damn, he’s here. Adam seems worse than usual with dark circles under his eyes and blotchy skin. Shit, I hope he didn’t say anything to Waverly on the way in.
He takes a seat next to the unknown woman in green. She gives him a half smile and shifts uncomfortably, whispering in his ear. My brother pats her thigh. A little too friendly. Then he leaves his hand there. Again, she shifts her weight and whispers to him. Adam removes his hand from her leg but throws it around her shoulder, pulling her into his body.
Holy fuck, he brought a date.
Behind me, Darren mutters under his breath, “What a piece of shit.” Even Kyle’s dead-to-me brother grumbles something I can hear.
Kyle forms a fist and growls, “I knew he was going to ruin our wedding.”
Without even realizing I’m doing it, I take one step forward.
Darren grabs my arm. “Not now.”
Angie’s college roommate is already halfway down the aisle. She smiles for the camera, but as her gaze drifts toward us, her brows furrow. As she walks to the altar, she turns to view the crowd and her eyes get wide for a second as she takes her spot on the altar.
Kyle’s sister is next. She’s smiling and giving tiny waves to the people on her side of the church. Again, at the halfway point, she realizes something is wrong.
The woman my fuckwad brother is molesting keeps squirming, but he has a death grip on her. Making little circles with his thumb on her shoulder, he plasters a fucking shit-eating grin on his face.
At this point, my mother looks over at him from several seats away. Her jaw drops, but the botox won’t let her show any other emotion. She leans over and hisses, “What are you doing?”
His voice echoes through the church. “We broke up. She rejected my proposal. I’m not doing anything wrong by having a date.”
By this time, Kyle’s sister makes her way to the altar, glances at the movement, and whispers, “Oh my God.”
My heart sinks as Waverly starts her turn. She has the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. She waves to Kyle who, from this angle, looks like he’s going to puke. My mother hisses at my brother who is making no sign he plans on moving.
Waverly can’t see this. Fuck, hasn’t he hurt her enough? How much more damage can he do to her? With about fifteen big steps I could punch his smug smirk off his face. I could do it. Fucking Darren grabs me, again.
Waverly is only a few feet away when she makes eye contact with me. Her pristine smile never falls, but she mouths the words, ‘Calm down.’
Does she know? This is obviously all an act, right?
Her eyes dart to the other members of the bridal party, and she smiles brighter. Then she glances over at the camera man. Photos.
Shit! The photos!
Once she’s on the altar, she must communicate some psychic message to the other bride’s maids because they all have the same fake smile. However, Waverly's joy is real.
Just when I’m ready to lose my shit completely, she wiggles her long, beautiful fingers at my brother and his fucking date. She’s waving to them , same genuine, goofy smile.
Kyle’s brother mutters, “She’s so gangster.”
Darren whispers in my ear, “You’ve got yourself a great girl.”
There’s no reason for her to be put through all this. That douche canoe brought the woman he cheated on Waverly with and he’s parading her around like he’s the winner of the lottery.
With every second that passes, my blood boils and adrenaline surges through my muscles. I want to simultaneously vomit and murder someone.
Glancing over at her, she’s still smiling and catches my eye. Her fingers brush against her hair and across her cheek, resting on her lips. ‘Smile,’ she sends me the non-verbal message.
I blink at her. Why should I smile or be calm?
Her eyes flash over to the cameraman and back to Kyle. Before I can respond, the music changes, the doors open, and Angie steps over the threshold with her father on her arm. My little sister has been planning her wedding since she was six, and she looks like a princess. Her dress has a long, white puffy skirt, and the bodice has delicate hand sewn flowers. She’s glowing in the church.
One more quick glance at Waverly and I get it. Nothing else matters to her but Angie’s big day. All of this is for Angie.
Her father kisses her and hands her over to Kyle. He turns to sit and sees his spawn’s behavior, and the front five pews grimace when he says, “What the fuck?”
I can’t see Angie’s face because she’s handing her flowers to Waverly, but her shoulders stiffen the same way they do whenever someone leaves only one Oreo in the package. (It’s me. I do it, I’m the monster.)
My sister takes a deep breath as the priest steps forward to say, “Dearly beloved….” The wedding continues and none of the guests are aware of the drama playing out in the front row. The bridesmaids stand off to the side, placing Waverly directly in front of my brother, who is constantly touching his date in wildly inappropriate ways. My good girl never lets her face change from the image of serene happiness. Even when Adam does a reading about love being patient and kind, his hypocritical voice does nothing to Waverly. Meanwhile, everyone in the bridal party is rolling their eyes and giving him death glares.
With each passing second, my hatred for Adam grows, but so does my admiration for Waverly. Her strength and compassion, her thoughtfulness in everything she does, I’m constantly telling her I don’t need her to support me, and yet, I do. She’s healed me in ways I didn’t realize I was broken.
I’m in love with her, and it’s not just something said at night during sex.
Maybe I never stopped.
And my twat of a brother is hurting her.
The heat kicks on during the second reading and the church cooks us like an oven. Guests are shedding their coats while the rest of the groomsmen and I sweat to death.
My brother makes a big motion of taking off his jacket and rolling his sleeves before throwing his arm around his poor, suffering date again. Now I’m sick for a whole different reason. The outrageously shitty placement offends me as a tattoo artist. The purple ink. The design I was given distinct instructions for whenever I see it.
Majesty
Internally, I grin, because now this becomes a problem I don’t have to deal with.
The bride and groom take their vows and cheers erupt once they’re presented to everyone. They walk down the aisle and we start our recessional.
I’m about to cut off Kyle’s brother so I can walk with Waverly. I mean, the damage has been done, right? But she takes Kyle’s brother’s arm, and they walk together. Linking arms with Kyle’s sister, my mind swirls with ways to keep Waverly away from all this embarrassment.
“That’s some bullshit,” his sister says.
I huff through my nose, not really trusting my voice. I’ve got to get Waverly out of here. I whisper, “Can you grab Waverly’s coat and purse the second we get into the vestibule?”
“On it.” She dashes off as soon as we step out of the main church.
Fortunately, the people in the front of the church will be the last to leave, and the bride and groom opted against a receiving line. I shoot off a text to the Scary Russian Guy and head toward Waverly.
Is she really this happy, or is it a perfect act?
Kyle’s sister comes back with the coat I recognize from last night and a small purse. I walk to Waverly and place the coat over her shoulders. “Let’s go.” It’s a straight up order. She blinks at me, like she can’t process the words.
Angie and Kyle shoot me knowing looks. “We’ll see you in the limo,” Kyle says and motions to his brother that there’s been a change in the carpool.
The icy blast slams against my face as I open the church door, but it melts the instant it hits my hot rage. I get her to the car and away from people. The limo driver hops out to do his job, but I’ve already got the door open for us. Waverly slides onto one long seat and I join her.
Once the driver shuts the door and we’re alone, I pull her on my lap, one arm around her waist the other hand touching her cheek. “Love, are you okay?”
She takes a second to snuggle into the space I’ve provided for her. “Are you?” she asks, her hands mirroring mine.
“Me? He…” I can’t even say it. “You…You’re what’s important.”
The serene smile fades and the mask finally falls. Thank God I’m here to catch it.
“Fine, me first, then you,” she says, but waits for my answer. I nod and she drops her hands from my cheeks. “I’m not hurt, but I’m pissed.”
“Me, too.”
She shakes her head. “Yeah, but probably not for the same reasons.” She nuzzles into my shoulder, and I drop my hand to her leg. “I’m pissed I wasted my time on him. I’m livid he would ruin Angie and Kyle’s wedding. And he was all creepy to his date, who I met in the bathroom and she’s super nice.” Waverly mumbles, “I owe her a new purse.” She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m annoyed, but not hurt. In fact, I’m not even sad over the death of the relationship. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out why this breakup felt different. Watching the way Kyle looks at Angie, them taking their vows, it hit me. I was never in love with Adam. Not even at our best.” She pauses and puts her hands on my heart, smoothing out my shirt. “When you and I broke up, it wrecked me. I sobbed for months. Hell, I’m pretty sure Uri put a hit out on you.”
“Well, thankfully it didn’t work, because I’m still alive.” I give her a little squeeze, causing her to nuzzle deeper into me.
“But with Adam, I feel nothing but annoyance.” I lift her chin to meet my gaze. Her makeup is still there, soft and light, her hair still perfect. She brings her lips to mine and they brush against each other. “I’m saying I loved you then and never stopped.”
Our ensuing kiss starts off soft and sweet, but as I pull her closer into my chest and she moans, it turns to a primal need to touch every inch of her. To make her whimper and cry with desire.
Before I can get too far, the car door opens and Kyle and Angie slide in. I half expect Waverly to climb off me, that I would have to fight to hold her in place. Now that I have her, I’m never letting go.
But she stays on my lap, wrapped in my arms.
The assault comes from Angie. “And how long has this been going on?” She punctuates her demand, smacking me on my knee with each word.
“This time? A few weeks,” Waverly says.
I get another round of rapid slaps. “This time?! There was another time? How long ago? How long did it last?”
Again, Waverly answers before I can get a single sound out. “It ended about five years ago.” She pauses and thinks it over. “Well, we had been hooking up for five years over the summers, but it became pretty serious in the last two.”
Now Kyle asks, “How serious?”
“I was going to move to Seattle.”
The married couple stare at us, jaws open as wide as their eyes.
Angie regroups quicker than Kyle. “Why did you break up?” There’s an icy change about her. Funny, it’s exactly the same as the way the entire wedding party looked—fake smiles, joy that didn’t reach their eyes.
And again, Waverly is the only one who seems genuinely happy.
This one I answer. “Miscommunication.”
Angie straightens her shoulders and crosses her arms.“Why didn’t you say anything? Either one of you.”
Waverly’s voice is softer. “I thought you’d be mad. With Izzy gone and my family constantly pushing me out of the way, I didn’t want to lose you too.”
A sadness fills the space as the car roars to life and we drive away from the church. Now I scoot my precious cargo off my lap and make sure she straps herself in. She waits for me to do the same.
“And Adam?” Kyle asks. “Why him? Are you not aware there are other gene pools?”
Yeah, this question has been bothering me for a while too.
“Um, he found me at a vulnerable moment. Nana was just diagnosed with terminal cancer. He was familiar and, at the time, I thought he was safe.”
My stomach knots again. All the different ways I didn’t protect her. All the years we missed. We lost.
As usual, Kyle is the one to lighten the mood. “Well, this is the best wedding present I ever got.”
Waverly brightens. “Oh, then I can return what I got you.”
Kyle squishes his face and waves his hand away. “Nah, I’ll take it.”
And for once, I’m free enough to laugh.