Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Gene and Laura West knew how to make a fucking entrance, and their sudden appearance earned a smattering of applause for the parents of the bride.
Lincoln couldn’t get any of his body parts to move, not even to blink his eyes.
Not until his father looked away to shake someone’s hand.
His mother’s gaze lingered a moment longer, and then the spell broke. They were swallowed by well-wishers.
Emmett’s hand pressed against the small of his back, a stabilizing touch, even through his suit jacket. “You okay?”
“Don’t know yet.” He swallowed against the dryness in his throat, then took a big gulp of his drink. “Being ignored was pretty predictable, though.”
“You’re here for your sister. Remember that.”
“Yeah.” The thought didn’t quell that tiny, unacknowledged part of him that dared to hope his parents would be happy to see him. That tiny, unacknowledged part of him that was finally, permanently extinguished by their easy dismissal. Gene and Laura were strangers to him now.
The Boundses were his family.
Emmett was his family.
The bridal party finally arrived and were announced on their way inside by a disembodied voice somewhere in the room. “And making their entrance for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Terrance Milano.”
Lincoln clapped for his sister, who beamed all the way to the front table. Terry made a gesture and someone handed him the microphone. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m hungry. Let’s eat before anyone starts with the speeches, yeah?”
Cheers followed that announcement. Half the crowd began lining up for the buffet, while the other half tried to trounce the happy couple. Lincoln pulled Emmett into the line for food. He’d hug his sister when the throng thinned a bit.
The spread was a mix of upscale seafood and down-home comfort food.
Lincoln took a piece of steamed salmon, a scoop of seared scallops, some veggies, and a small scoop of fruit salad.
Emmett, he noticed, stuck to the veggies and fruit, a very light plate for what had to be a crazy upset stomach.
Lincoln’s own had calmed a bit once he realized he no longer cared what his parents thought or did.
Emmett was surrounded by strangers, any of whom could be a threat, and he had to be freaking out inside.
Maybe we’ll skip the dance after all.
They found an empty table, and Lincoln wasn’t surprised when David joined them with a heaping plate of his own. He’d just taken a bite of the very tasty salmon when a female voice screeched his name.
Mercedes was barreling through the bodies between herself and him, and a surge of joy put Lincoln on his feet. He tugged his baby sister into his arms, surprised by the tears stinging his eyes and the lump in his throat.
“You came,” she said. “I’m so glad you came.”
He kissed her cheek as he pulled back. “Yeah, I came. You are so beautiful. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She seemed totally oblivious to the fact that a lot of people were watching them, because she angled to face the table. “This has to be Emmett. Oh my God, he’s gorgeous.”
Emmett flushed beet red. She yanked him up and into a hug, too, and the entire thing was kind of surreal. Lincoln spotted Gene and Laura a few yards away. Gene’s face was totally blank, but Laura . . . kind of looked like she wanted to cry.
“I’m so happy to meet you,” Mercedes said to Emmett. “Is my brother treating you right?”
“Better than I deserve,” Emmett replied. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Congratulations on your marriage.”
“Thanks.” She waved her husband over, then introduced everyone.
Terry shook their hands with a genuine smile and firm grip. “I’ve seen clips of XYZ on YouTube,” he said. “You guys are awesome. Sucks what happened last year.”
“Thank you,” Lincoln said.
“Mercy says you all are doing a reunion performance next week.”
“Yes, we are. I’m looking forward to it.”
“And I want to hear all about it afterward,” Mercedes said. “I also want to chat more, but this is the part where Terry and I have to talk to every single person here before we get to eat.”
Lincoln laughed. “Good luck with that.”
“Thanks.” She kissed his cheek before wandering to the next cluster of people waiting to wish the new couple all the best.
He and Emmett sat.
“She’s very sweet,” Emmett said. “I think she liked me.”
“She loved you.” Lincoln tweaked his nose. “How could she not?”
Emmett simply smiled, and they kept eating.
Witnessing the interaction between Lincoln and his sister had been one of the most lovely and most painful experiences of Emmett’s life so far.
Lovely because the siblings obviously had deep affection for each other and it showed in their words and actions and smiles.
Painful because of the grief-stricken ache that squeezed his heart, reminding him of the little sister he no longer had.
It also intensified the guilt that was a now-living thing inside of Emmett, ripping apart his insides, shredding his soul from the inside out.
He could have taken Mercedes’s brother away from her, the same way Chandler Gunn took his sister from him.
The guilt made finishing his plate of food impossible, and he didn’t even eyeball the dessert table set up near the wedding cake.
Time took forever to pass. Several of Terry’s relatives stopped by to chat with David, who took great delight in introducing them around.
Every new person he met only served to make Emmett feel less accepted, instead of more at ease.
He’d been uncomfortable sitting in a Christian church, listening to religious vows being traded, and he was even less comfortable the more he mingled in the most stereotypically WASPish room of his life.
He felt as though he had a giant sign over his chair that said “Brown Kid, Guard Your Valuables.”
But Lincoln seemed to be enjoying himself, so Emmett kept quiet and kept his trembling hands in his lap as often as possible.
The bridal party eventually settled with plates of food, and people started giving speeches.
Emmett tried to concentrate on the words, but they were about people he didn’t know and events that hadn’t touched his life at all.
Then the married couple danced alone together on a dance floor he hadn’t seen appear.
Various combinations of dancers followed.
Lincoln stiffened slightly when his father danced with Mercedes.
The entire experience was surreal, even after the dance floor opened to all couples.
Mercedes tugged Lincoln out to dance with her, and Emmett fought against a rising tide of panic. His rock was gone, leaving him to flail in the open sea of strangers. Even David had drifted off at some point. Emmett was utterly alone.
Self-preservation had him standing. Moving. Seeking an exit of some kind.
He made it out of the ballroom to the corridor, and the shiny sign advertising the men’s restroom beckoned to him like a neon light.
He bolted for it and locked himself in the stall farthest from the door, barely managing to sit on the seat before his entire body started shaking.
Arms tight around his middle, Emmett rocked.
This is ridiculous, get yourself together so Lincoln doesn’t see what a pathetic mess you are.
Coming here was a mistake. He never should have fooled himself into believing he was strong enough to handle a crowd like this.
Forget a dance with Lincoln, he couldn’t keep his head on straight sitting in a chair.
And now he was melting down in a hotel bathroom stall, while normal people ate, danced, and had a good time.
They celebrated a marriage while he quietly lost his mind.
Other men came and went. He tried concentrating on those sounds. Familiar things. Water running. Urinals flushing. Hushed conversations. Normal bathroom noises and actions that slowly helped him focus. His body calmed and the looming sense of imminent doom disappeared.
I can do this. I can do this.
He stayed put.
His phone beeped with a text.
Lincoln: You okay?
Bathroom. Be out soon.
Stomach?
Something like that.
Emmett closed his eyes and counted backward from twenty. The heavy stone of guilt was still crushing his insides, but he felt less apt to fall apart. No one here was going to hurt him. These people weren’t the enemy.
The bathroom must have emptied, because in the quiet he heard the swish of the door opening. “Em?”
He stood and opened the stall door. Lincoln stood by the first sink, so concerned that Emmett couldn’t lie to him. “I had a panic attack.”
“I figured.” Lincoln closed the distance between them and squeezed Emmett’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. Mercy wanted to dance, and I couldn’t say no.”
“It’s okay. I got through it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You want to head home?”
Emmett did, very much so, but he’d made a bargain with Lincoln. “I still owe you a dance.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” He brushed his lips over his boyfriend’s. “I want to. For both of us. I want to dance with you at your sister’s wedding.”
Lincoln’s eyes softened. “I don’t deserve you.”
You deserve so much better than me.
“Come on,” Emmett said instead.
He clung tight to Lincoln’s hand on the walk back to the ballroom.
Every pair of eyeballs in the place seemed like they were glued on them, even though that was ridiculous.
If anyone cared that two men were holding hands, they kept it to themselves.
Lincoln led him to the edge of the dance floor, where at least two dozen people were trying to do the Electric Slide without much success, led by the bride.
She tried to wave them in, but Lincoln held his ground.