Chapter 1 #2
“I never joke,” he says with such vehemence, I know for a fact, he’s telling the truth. I want to say something about how he could do with some laughs in his life, but who am I to say anything when my entire life has turned into the stuff of party conversations?
My own laughter dies. I stare at him, and he peruses my features with an intensity I’ve never been subjected to before. An intensity which turns my nipples into pinpoints of desire, and causes my belly to flutter, and my pussy to clench in on itself.
How am I so drawn to him? I should be crushed my bridegroom did a runner. Instead, all I can think of is how much I want this stranger. This is wrong, no matter which way I look at it. Something of my resolve must reflect on my face for he nods, then straightens to stand back up.
Once more, I have to tilt my head back to see his face.
Once more, I’m struck by how tall he is.
How broad, how big and solid and dependable.
How he invites trust. How... He’d never leave me stranded at the altar...
How he definitely would not break up with me through a text message sent to his best man.
My scalp tingles. All the air in the room seems to have been sucked out. The voices around us fade. I want to look away from him, but I can’t. I feel discombobulated, like I’m watching this scene unfold from far away. Is this an out of body experience?"
“This is real. I am here. So are you. And you’re going to marry me." His voice rings with conviction.
I shake my head, open my mouth to speak, when—
There's a clattering in the vestibule, then Felix races up the aisle toward us. "Wait! I'm here."
My jaw drops. Felix? What's he doing here?
A gasp runs through the crowd. I catch sight of my father watching me with worry in his eyes.
Felix barrels to a stop. Chest heaving, sweat dripping down his temple, he bursts out, "I’m sorry, Vivian. Sorry I sent that message. But I’m here now." He takes a step in my direction, but I throw up my hands.
"Don’t come near me!” I cry.
"Vivian—" He swallows. "Please, listen to me."
I clench my fists at my sides. The anger that I've been struggling to hold back rampages through my veins with the force of a tornado. "No. No way, do you get to speak with me now. Not after you didn’t even have the decency to tell me to my face. You broke up with me at the altar. And through a text message? To your friend? And you have the nerve to turn up and apologize?”
Pressure builds behind my eyes. My heart threatens to snap through my ribcage, the blood pumps in my ears, and I can barely hear myself speak.
"Why did you return?” I turn on Felix. “What gives you any right to come here and ask me anything? Haven’t you hurt me enough?”
"It’s not like that, Vivi—" Felix takes a step forward.
I stumble back. "Don’t you dare call me 'Vivi.' And how dare you try to explain things? Do you realize what you did? Do you?” And why am I grateful for it? And why am I so angry, when I realize now, he was all wrong for me, and I didn’t want to get married in the first place?
“Oh my god, why is everything so complicated?”
"But I have to… I …I. Please, Vivi. Please, let me explain.”
“Nope, no way, not happening. I should have realized how wrong this was.
" I motion to my gown, to him, and to the space between us.
"I never should have accepted your proposal in the first place. I’m almost glad you dumped me.
Hurtful as it was, I'm relieved. You stopped me from making a huge mistake.”
“Vivi.” His gaze widens. The color fades from his cheeks. He seems taken aback, then he shakes his head. “No, please don’t say that." His chin trembles. "I… I didn’t mean to hurt you." His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Are you kidding me?” I clench my fists at my side.
He runs his fingers through his gelled hair, which stands up on end.
He seems so young. We might be the same age, but I’ve always felt this compulsive need to take care of him.
Is that why I agreed to marry him? I thought it was to save money but maybe it’s because I miss taking care of someone since my younger sister moved away to attend ballet school.
And while I do help my father, it’s not the same as having her around.
Was I looking to fill that hollowness inside me with his need for me?
Why didn’t these thoughts occur to me before I accepted his proposal?
He must see the conflicting emotions on my features, for his own crumple. "I’m so sorry." A tear runs down his cheek.
“No.” I stab my finger at him. “You don’t get to be the injured party here. You don’t get to cry.”
“Please Vivi, please. Can't we speak, at least?” he asks in a beseeching tone. There’s so much sadness in his eyes that some of my anger fades, and I feel pity.
Not only was I looking to fill the emptiness left behind by Lizzie, I chose someone I could mother. I wince. Nice. I should have realized that before I rushed into marrying him. I bite down on my lower lip.
"There’s no point in discussing what happened. We never should have planned to get married. Although, figuring that out in such a public fashion”—I wave my hand at the surroundings— “is not how I thought this day would turn out.”
"Me neither.” Felix lowers his chin. “That’s the thing. I thought everything was fine. Then I walked into the church and—"
"You had second thoughts?" I ask dryly.
He nods. "I thought it was the usual pre-wedding jitters, until I saw the crowd… I knew then, I couldn’t go through with it."
"Are you listening to yourself?” I throw up my hands. “That is not an explanation. Couldn’t you have thought this through before you proposed to me?" I chuckle without humor. “You'd think I could have figured out we were wrong for each other, before I agreed to marry you.”
He hunches his shoulders—so thin, in comparison to the stranger.
I glance sideways at the man who decided to prolong the mockery of the situation by proposing to me. Why did he do that? Was it because he felt sorry for me? And am I seriously considering his proposal?
My heart somersaults into my throat. The blood pumps in my ears so loudly, I can barely hear myself think.
It's good manners and the tightness of my wedding dress that keep me from fleeing down the aisle and away from this place.
Marrying him? Marrying a complete stranger? That would be crazy… right?
But what's wrong with being crazy? I was jilted at the altar. That's crazy enough. But having a wild, sexy stranger propose to me directly afterward is even crazier. What if I do the craziest thing of all? What if I don’t run away screaming? But instead, say yes. Agree to marry a man I've never met before. A man who’s older than me. A man who looks fully capable of wringing pleasure from my body with his beautiful mouth and thick fingers and the equipment he’s packing.
Felix blinks, then follows my gaze to the stranger. His gaze widens as if he’s noticing the stranger for the first time. A weird light flares in his eyes.
"What are you doing here?" He glares at the older man. "I didn’t invite you to my wedding."
They know each other?
"No way was I going to stay away. And I'm especially glad I didn't, after you decided to turn into a runway bridegroom," the older guy growls.
Felix winces. His gaze narrows, and he sets his jaw. "I don’t have to listen to this from someone who’s been an absent father most of my life."
"Father?" I gape at the stranger whose proposal I nearly accepted. "You’re his father?"