Chapter 15 The Wedding #2
Mrs. Hyun sighed. “No, he’s in Europe this week. He was supposed to go next week, but…” She shrugged, not seeming particularly bothered by her husband’s absence. “You’ll have to meet him next time, Ethan.”
My face warmed. “Next time” implied that Grey would bring me around for more family events. Considering I was only at this one because Carina couldn’t make it, it felt odd to assume I would attend future ones.
“We should go find our seats,” Mrs. Hyun continued, gesturing to the door.
Grey and I followed her inside to our chairs. My head was still reeling from how quickly meeting her had moved from something to fear to an event that had happened without a hitch.
Once seated, we didn’t have to wait long for the wedding to start. The groom appeared at the altar, and the music began. Everyone in the room turned to see the bride—Grey’s cousin, who also happened to be absolutely breathtaking in her white wedding gown—begin her walk down the aisle.
But my eyes turned to Grey as he looked toward the back of the room.
I wondered what Grey was thinking as he watched his cousin walk down the aisle. Is he imagining himself standing at the altar as Carina approaches him? Is he picturing the life they would have together after the wedding? The house they would buy, the kids that would play around their feet?
I could see it all for him. Grey would get everything he wanted. The perfect life. And in that moment, I knew in my heart that I would never want someone like I wanted him. Not if I lived to be a hundred. It was a crushing realization. Because what am I supposed to do as he goes on with his life?
I would never have the wedding playing out in my mind’s eye.
In this fantasy, Grey would be dressed in a white suit as he approached me standing at the altar.
He would look at me as if I were the center of his whole universe.
And I would feel like the sun had ignited inside of me.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Not with me.
Tears pricked in the corners of my eyes, and I looked down at my lap as I took a steadying breath. Get it together, I told myself.
Grey nudged my leg, and I looked back up at him.
What’s wrong? he mouthed.
I shook my head. I had no rational excuse for my emotional reaction, at least not one that would come from someone who was only a friend.
I forced my attention back to the ceremony in front of me, allowing it to just be two people getting married.
I ignored the pang in my chest as they said their custom vows, refused to dwell on wondering how Grey would look at me if it were us getting married.
My whole reaction was laughable really. We’d decided to be just friends.
We hadn’t even had a date. How could I be thinking about marrying the guy?
The wedding passed in the usual fashion, though everything felt dreamlike with my mind foggy from emotion.
The couple said, “I do,” the guests clapped, and several of the bridesmaids cried.
All the while I could feel Grey staring at me, his intense gaze almost a physical force on the back of my head.
But I ignored it. And soon enough, the wedding was over. It wasn’t until we entered the reception hall that I realized my grave miscalculation—I would be sitting next to Grey for the reception, and there was nothing to keep him from pestering me for answers.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he demanded as soon as he sat next to me.
“N-nothing,” I stuttered, taken aback. You get emotional one time thirty minutes ago, and the guy holds onto it for the whole evening.
“You were crying,” he said flatly.
“I didn’t cry.” I refused to admit to my sins and own up to the fact that I was sad he would eventually marry someone else and I would have to deal with it, so I lied. “Weddings just always get me in my feels.”
“‘In your feels,’” Grey repeated.
“That’s what I said. You know, weddings are romantic and shit.”
I could tell he didn’t quite believe me from the way his eyes narrowed, but luckily, that was when people decided to begin lining up for dinner, so I could excuse myself from the conversation.
Grey seemed upset that I’d blown off his questions.
The whole evening, he sulked quietly as I slowly and meticulously ate my dinner to make sure my mouth was too occupied to talk at all times.
We were joined by other guests, and it seemed this was enough to deter Grey from pressing me further.
His mind continued to amaze me. Would he let other people think we might be a couple?
Sure. Talk about feelings with a distraught friend? Not in front of civilized company.
After dinner, the family of the happy couple gave their speeches, though I found it impossible to focus on what they said outside of the obvious “these two were made for each other” comments.
Then, the dancing started, and I was left alone with Grey at the table as the other people at our table made their way out onto the floor.
I could tell that he intended to restart the conversation, but luckily, there was an open bar, so I fled to get a drink.
And once that was done, I got another. It became an almost childish game of jumping up as soon as I sensed more questions bubbling up in Grey’s mind—not because I wanted anything else to drink, but because I needed an excuse to get away in a roomful of people I didn’t know.
It was a flawless plan, really, until I was sitting there, six drinks in, and the corners of my vision began to blur.
Suddenly, a hand appeared outstretched in front of me. I looked up to the owner and realized that Grey had stood and was holding out his hand.
“Ethan,” he said. “Would you dance with me?”