Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Samantha
Ani’s parents played a slideshow on a fifty-seven-inch television set to Taylor Swift’s “Invisible String” that featured photos of Ani and Tyler at many different ages and stages, side by side, as they grew up. It was probably adorable; I could barely focus on it. They had so many photos that the song played twice, and frankly, in the horrible mood I was in, once would’ve been plenty.
I had no idea what I was doing. I was numb—blind and deaf, barely aware of people around me dressed in colorful, bright outfits laughing and talking and eating, candles flickering, music and speeches droning on and on as the rehearsal dinner played itself out. Outwardly, I think I managed to smile—perhaps maniacally—but inside, I was in agony.
What had I just done?
I thought I’d done the wrong thing. But I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know how to tell Caleb that Lilly still cared—that was Lilly’s job. I couldn’t warn him, and I couldn’t call her a sneaky, conniving bitch because I wasn’t sure if she was one—even though singling me out to announce her feelings just at the time when Caleb and I were finally together was ironically perfect timing. Running over to Caleb and shoving Lilly out of the way and telling him pick me, pick me! didn’t seem right. Somehow I felt that I had to let this play out. But I was a wreck.
I tried different scenarios in my head: “Caleb, Lilly loves you and wants a chance with you,” sounded like I should let Lilly speak for herself.
“Caleb, I wanted to warn you that Lilly’s still after you,” sounded insecure and ominous.
“Caleb, I told Lilly to back the eff off.” Maybe I should’ve taken option three.
And what was the deal about Caleb working in Oak Bluff?
I took a sip of my drink, a gin and tonic, which I hated but was all I could think of to order. Caleb, sitting across and down the long table from me, next to Lilly of all people, wouldn’t even glance in my direction.
Ani, at the table’s other end, looked pale and panicked. Once I saw her clutch onto Tyler’s arm and whisper something. He shook his head and looked puzzled. Their body language seemed out of sync and was telling. Ani also kept looking over at me, lifting her brows and gesturing for me to come over.
Oh. The matchmaking test. I’d forgotten all about it. That was the last thing on earth I wanted to do now—in the grand scheme of things, it would rank right after attending a malpractice deposition. I couldn’t force myself to move.
Then Lilly stood up, her bold flowery dress directly in my line of sight. To make things even worse, Caleb scraped back his chair and left with her.
That was the final dagger to my heart. I thought I might throw up right then and there.
Ani gestured furiously to me to come up now . I managed to move my leaden legs up to the end of the table near the front of the patio.
“Do it now,” she whispered insistently when I got there. “The test. Please.”
I grabbed a vacated seat and sat down next to her. Took her hand and looked directly into her stricken, hollowed-out eyes. “Ani, listen to me. The matchmaking test is a fake. It was something I wanted to believe to feel closer to my grandma. It’s not magic.”
“I don’t care.” Her voice cracked. “I’m desperate. Please, please do it.”
I thought about how I’d lied to Caleb about his and Lilly’s test to prove that I wasn’t interested. I was coming to realize that the question Are we compatible? had no good answers from anyone who wasn’t in the relationship themselves. It was like a girlfriend asking her boyfriend, Does this outfit make me look ten pounds heavier?
Ani sounded so desperate, so on edge, that I felt like I was distressing her more by refusing. “Okay, fine,” I said.
But now what was I going to do?
I walked behind Ani and Tyler and put my hands on their shoulders.
Everyone, seeing me with the bride and groom, immediately began yelling for me to make a toast.
“Okay, okay,” I said when they wouldn’t let up. I’d never been good at extemporaneous speaking, but now, all my grief spoke for me, for better or for worse. “How does anyone know if a person is right for them? Well, I think you know because this person just gets you.” I closed my eyes for a second, not certain I could get through this, but feeling strangely compelled to continue, the words pouring out. “They are the best for you and sometimes the worst for you when they tell you the truths you need to hear. This person is the kindest, most wonderful person you’ve ever met, and every day they make you want to be the best person you could be. They believe in you, they cherish you, and they love you for exactly who you are. And they make you feel safe in their love.”
My voice was shaking. All of me was. I lifted my glass and looked straight at Ani. This was the only gift I could give her, far better than a fake compatibility test that I should never have hyped as a piece of magic to replace the hard work of relationships. “To true love. The only thing that matters.”
Apparently, that was quite a speech, because everyone clapped. Gabe even walked by and told me I should’ve been the officiant. But I ignored everything going on around me. Tyler rose to chat with some guests, so I sat down in his vacated seat and squeezed Ani’s shoulder. Then I turned to her, sucked in a big breath, and took both her hands in mine. They felt colder than Antarctica.
“There’s only one thing that’s real, and it’s right here.” I patted my chest. “In your heart. You don’t need me or anyone else telling you what you know deep inside you.” The bride got teary. They weren’t tears of joy. Basically, she was a miserable, unhappy bride. Why deny it? Why soothe her and tell her to marry Tyler, who probably wasn’t ever going to make her happy? I didn’t need a dead zero matchmaker test to know that. I knew it because I saw how Ani and Tyler acted when they were together. And it wasn’t good.
And I knew that because I knew what was in my own heart. Caleb was everything I’d just said and more. And I’d lost him.
“Ani, you’re a gem. But you shouldn’t marry someone just because you desperately want this marriage to work. If it’s not right, then you have to be brave and admit that to yourself and to Tyler. Mia and I will do anything to help and support you no matter what you decide. You deserve everything, the very best. Nothing less.” I bent down and kissed her cheek. “I love you.”
She squeezed my hand hard. “I love you too,” she managed.
As I went to take my seat, I knew I would never tell Ani that I felt only a dead battery between her and Tyler. I also knew that I’d never do that matchmaking test again. People had to figure out their own love lives. And I sure had messed up mine.
I’d rolled over and given up my own chance at love. I’d taken some kind of matchmaking moral high ground, and it had hurt Caleb and driven him straight into Lilly’s arms.
* * *
Caleb
“Ani’s having second thoughts,” Lilly said as we stood on an extension of the patio, watching the sun set spectacularly past the rolling hills of farmland. The brilliant oranges and pinks faded into indigo, which reflected my mood. Black. “We could barely calm her down. We told her to talk to Tyler.”
“Second thoughts?” Looking back at our golf afternoon, Tyler had been Tyler, relaxed and joking. There’d been no signs of trouble. Was that why she’d called me urgently from the rehearsal dinner, to tell me this?
Lilly gave a little shrug. “They might want different things out of life. Or she might just be panicked because she’s afraid of making a mistake again. I don’t know.”
To me, Lilly sounded like she was reporting a news story instead of relating a would-be tragedy. But then, I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. I put my hands in my pockets and walked over to where a low stone wall held a flower bed that ran the entire circular length of the patio.
Something was tugging on my brain. Why was Sam so insistent that we not come out as a couple? It seemed abrupt and also very unlike her. I couldn’t help feeling that something was really off. My anger had flared, and I’d been quick to accuse her of running away. Granted, I was hurt, but something didn’t feel right.
We were always good about talking things out—one might call that arguing, because from the get-go, neither of us had been afraid of confronting the other. But she’d avoided discussion completely. Why?
On the far part of the patio, I could see Sam sitting next to Ani. Holding her hand, talking intently with her. Again I wondered why the hell she’d backed away from the idea of us so abruptly. What scared her off? Was going public so frightening that she couldn’t handle it?
I was so distracted I forgot that Lilly was standing in front of me, her back to the stone wall, hands leaned against it, watching me carefully.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” I asked. “That Ani is struggling?”
She smiled—a little sadly, I thought. “No, I—I have to tell you something else completely.” She tapped her chest, as if she were choking up. Then she cleared her throat. “Sorry, I’m nervous, and this is difficult for me.”
It was unlike Lilly to be nervous. I instantly thought about how she’d jumped right in and taken over after I’d been hurt, almost like we were still a couple. My Spidey sense told me that whatever she had to say, it wasn’t going to be what I wanted to hear.
“When we first met up again, I was really wary of you. But during that weekend on the farm, I got to see who you are, and I was reminded of so many wonderful things.”
Oh no . I wondered if I should stop her now, because I didn’t want to hear what was coming. I glanced over at the rehearsal dinner in the distance and saw Sam headed back to her seat. I balled my fists, trying to prevent myself from going to her.
I missed some of what Lilly was saying, so I forced myself to pay attention.
“Anyway, the bottom line is, I saw what you did for that little boy. I couldn’t believe how brave you were. And I realized that I’d been letting the bad memories of that awful time we had cloud my judgment. We were kids, and we both had so much growing up to do. But I’ve finally figured out that I’m in love with you, Caleb. I—I’ve decided that I want another chance.”
I felt my body go rigid, my heart thudding ominously as I took that all in. Life is so funny. It slaps you on the ass when you least expect it. I’d kept Lilly in my mind for years, holding up her memory as my ideal woman. But after spending less than a day with her, I knew beyond a doubt that she wasn’t. I should’ve done that long before to save myself the headache.
Samantha called me a romantic, but I didn’t really like that word. Hopeful? Optimistic? In this case, totally ridiculous was more like it.
To get into med school, you have to persevere over and over again. You’re taught to excel, because if you don’t, you are eaten for breakfast. And so you pick yourself up again and again and redirect your determination into better grades, bigger accomplishments, greater achievements. Hopefully you end up sincerely wanting to make the world a better place and not becoming some jaded person always looking for the next proverbial “A.”
I think I’d put Lilly in that same kind of box as any of my so-called accomplishments. If I’d only tried harder, paid her more attention, been more attentive to her needs, we wouldn’t have crashed and burned. That failure was a persistent scar that I kept trying to erase. My mind hadn’t been able to wrap itself around the fact that I’d been unable to turn our relationship into a win.
I looked at the woman in front of me. She shifted her weight from one high heel to the other, staring at me expectantly.
I was pretty sure that regardless of what she’d just said, Lilly wasn’t in love with me. She always glommed on to the newest, shiniest thing—that’s what I became when I’d saved Tater. The hero of the day.
It was like when I was valedictorian. And again when I got into med school. She’d always admired success. I mean, she became successful herself, which was admirable.
But during the hard times, the times of struggle—like, when I could barely keep my head above water that first year—she hadn’t been so impressed. And while she suffered too, it seemed to be all about her.
All this time, I’d tended to blame myself. But love was a two-way street.
Oh, I was past blaming. I just knew who I loved. Really loved. And it wasn’t her.
I turned to her. “Lilly,” I said, taking up her hands. “I love our memories together. I love our history. You were a wonderful first love. But?—”
Tears welled. “Caleb, we have a long history. Did one weekend with her erase everything? I knew I shouldn’t have left that square dance so early.”
One weekend with her. It was the way she said it. One weekend with her. Not vindictive, but somehow… spiteful? Or at least, envious.
How did she know about Sam and me if we hadn’t even told anyone yet?
Maybe it was simply obvious to everyone. Maybe we just couldn’t hide it. If only Sam would believe it too.
“Lilly, look.” I took hold of her hands. “We shared so many great times. I’m really glad this wedding got us back on better terms with each other.”
“Stop.” She paused, appearing to collect herself. “You’re in love with Samantha.”
“Yes.” The plain, simple truth. “I love her.”
“I thought so.” She gave me a sad smile. “I just had to take the chance.”
She was crying. “I’ll always treasure the good times.” And I planned to forget all the bad ones as soon as possible, I thought as I hugged her goodbye for good.
I did love Sam. This time, I knew that what I felt was real, mature love. It hurt too damn bad not to be.