Chapter 37
Now
Port of call: at sea
Attire: formal
The night of the vow renewal, the back deck of the ship is set up with white chairs and an arch draped in lilies, orchids, and jasmine. Overhead, a string of twinkle lights shimmer in the final embers of the sun’s blaze.
Jonah, Ben, Chris, Bella, the kids, and I are all seated while my grandparents and Liam take their spots under the arch.
The unwritten rule is that no one is supposed to look better than the bride, but apparently Liam, looking dashing in a bow tie and a crisp white shirt that’s tight in all the right places, didn’t get that memo.
“Welcome, everyone,” Liam says, giving a little nod. “It is a pleasure to be here today with all of you.” A murmur of agreement rises up in response before he turns to Grammy and Gramps. “I’m honored to play a role in celebrating the vow renewal of Kathleen and Harrold Larsen.”
Grammy and Gramps join hands, both of them beaming like a pair of lovesick teenagers.
“Before we begin with the exchange of vows, I’d like to say a few words. I think we can all agree that Maggie would have loved to be here, not just because it’s a beautiful day in paradise”—he gestures to the perfect stretch of blue ocean behind us—“but because she was the biggest fan of love.”
My heart swells. Somehow, impossibly, I feel like she’s here.
Like I can feel her in the sunlight feathering across my face.
In the gentle lick of wind tousling my curls.
In the echoes of Liam’s voice bouncing like beams of light across the deck.
Like maybe her presence isn’t something physical, but something much greater, more permanent than that.
“She believed that love was one of the best parts of life, something worth sacrificing for,” Liam goes on. “And even though her presence is sorely missed, she’s still here in spirit, reminding us that always choosing love is one of the bravest things anyone can do.”
He pauses, allowing a meditative silence to fall over us before he says, “I remember on our wedding day, Maggie figured I might be nervous. Which I was,” Liam adds to a smattering of chuckles. “So she pulled me aside and showed me the bracelet she was wearing—silver with blue stones.”
My eyes drift down to my left wrist, where the same bracelet now sits.
“She asked me how old I thought it was, and I told her it looked brand-new,” Liam says.
“She shared it was actually over a hundred years old, but when you take care of things, they can last forever. Then she told me that relationships are the same. That when you work hard and take care of them, they’ll last.”
Liam’s gaze lingers on me, and a shiver that has nothing to do with the ocean breeze scatters across my skin.
“Every day since that moment, I’ve learned that relationships are hard,” he continues.
“That the easiest part of loving someone is the falling, and everything after that takes hard work. But I don’t mean long hours at a job you hate.
I mean the kind of work that lights your soul on fire, that’s worth every long night and early morning.
Every up and down. Every sacrifice. The kind of work that fulfills you and challenges you every day.
The kind that makes you want to show up and build something that lasts because it’s worth it. ”
His eyes flick back to Grammy and Gramps.
“I could say it’s luck or good fortune or fate even that we’re standing here today celebrating fifty years of marriage, but it’s not.
We’re here because Grammy and Gramps have done the hard work to build and maintain their relationship.
They are proof that when we take care of each other, our love can stand the test of time. ”
When Liam finishes, everyone claps. I join in, too; all the while my heartbeat is slamming against my ribs, breath coming out choppy and uneven.
It’s just a speech, I tell myself. One I’d known all along that he would make. I just hadn’t known he would say all that. Nor had I known he would keep looking at me, like the words were meant for me, and only me.
Was it all part of the roles we’re playing? Him the perfect, shiny husband and me the supportive, loving wife? Or did he mean it?
The question fans the flames of the emotional fire raging inside me even as I do my best to smile and clap as well, playing it off like of course Liam believes every word of what he just said.
Like he still wants this to last.
* * *
After the ceremony, there’s a reception with cake and dancing on the deck overlooking the ocean, as the sun finishes its descent in fiery bursts of pink and orange and lavender.
Jonah and Ben show off some salsa moves from a class they took, and Grammy and Gramps dance with Jackson, Riley, and Henleigh while everyone oohs and awws over how cute it is.
I try to muster up the enthusiasm to join in, but not even the millennial siren call of “Peace up, A-town down” can get me out on the dance floor, and I hang off to the side of the deck, nursing a seltzer and lime, still caught up in Liam’s speech.
What he said was beautiful. Thoughtful. Romantic. But why did he say this now?
Where was this big speech about making things last when I told him it was over? When he walked out? When I cried myself to sleep night after night? When the crush of loneliness was unbearable?
Why now? Why tonight?
I wish I could tell myself the answer doesn’t matter. That in two days we’ll go back to real life, and there’s no point wondering about what ifs and could haves. I wish I could shut off the gravitational pull of him. The feeling of my heart wrapping around his once more.
But I can’t.
Not after the past few days. Not when I can still picture the way he’d looked at me last night—like we still belonged to each other. Like I was his.
I’m wondering if I could get away with retreating to our cabin by claiming I’m seasick when Liam appears beside me.
“Hey,” he says, his hip brushing mine. The touch is light, barely there, but my lungs, my pulse—everything—jumps.
“Hey,” I say back.
He leans against the railing, studying me. “Is everything all right? You ran away so quickly after the ceremony.”
“I’m fine. I just…” But I let my voice trail off, lost to the ocean breeze, mostly because I don’t know how to explain everything that I’m feeling right now. Or even if it’s a good idea to try. “I’m fine,” I say again.
Silence ensues, and his eyes drop to my mouth, lingering. There’s heat behind his gaze. A final flame of want that won’t go out. And suddenly I’m angry.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I tell him.
His mouth turns down. “Like what?”
Like you still love me.
“Like you meant what you said back there.” I gesture to the spot where the ceremony took place.
His brow stiffens against the twinkle lights overhead. “I did mean what I said.”
He says it like it’s obvious. Like I was supposed to know that.
“You could have warned me, you know.”
“Warned you about what?”
“That you were going to say all that,” I say, waving my hand vaguely.
He frowns, dragging his hand through his beard. “What was wrong with what I said?”
“Nothing, I just…” But my voice fades and I turn from him, afraid that if I look at him a second longer, all the thoughts I’ve tried so hard to tamp down, to pretend aren’t there, will rush to the surface in one frothing whoosh, and I won’t be able to control what happens next.
“I can’t do this,” I say.
“Do what, Ros?”
I look back at him—at his arched brow and the slight downturn of his lips and the way the ocean breeze lifts the ends of his hair, making him look so handsome, it hurts—and that’s all it takes for the thin strand of composure that’s been holding me together to finally snap.
“This.” I gesture between us. “This push and pull. One minute we’re hooking up with an expiration date, and the next you’re…” I scramble for the words. “You’re looking at me like that saying all that!”
His mouth parts in surprise. “Ros,” he says in a quiet rasp.
But I keep going, a boiling pot finally frothing over.
“If you really meant it, why couldn’t you have said all that stuff three months ago when our marriage was falling apart? Maybe if you had, then things would be different, maybe we’d…” But I stop, afraid to say what’s next.
Liam inches closer, close enough that I can feel the heat of his skin, smell the sharp scent of his cologne. “Maybe we’d what?” he asks.
“Maybe…” I choke, my voice broken by a sob. “Maybe things wouldn’t be like this…”
“Ros.” He places a tender hand on my arm, but I brush him away.
“Stop,” I say, pushing past the wedge in my throat.
“You were supposed to be there for me when I needed you. You were supposed to be the one person in my life I could lean on, who would be there for me when I was at my lowest, and you weren’t.
So you don’t get to come here and say a few nice words and act like that fixes things. It’s too late.”
Liam’s face falls like a balloon that’s lost its air. “That’s not—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “You’re right. I fucked up and I lost you for it. But it’s not too late for—”
But I don’t let him finish. I don’t want to hear what it’s not too late for. I don’t want to be held captive by any more false promises and pretty-sounding words. I made that mistake once before and I won’t do it again.
“I’ve tried to control my feelings, to not need you anymore, to be okay with saying goodbye when this trip ends,” I tell him. “But you’re only making it harder. So just stop. Okay?”
“Ros,” he says again, this time coming out low and strained. A plea. “You’re the one who wanted an expiration date. And you’re the one who asked for the divorce. Not me.”
“I know but…” My voice trails off as the hurt and confusion I’ve been shoving down for months finally bob to the surface.