Chapter 43
VIOLET
The night of Isabelle and Andrew’s rehearsal dinner comes way too soon. I’ve had my dress picked out for ages, approved by my sister and everything, but standing in my bedroom putting it on, I don’t feel ready.
It’s a lovely dress, flattering on me, in a deep green color, but I feel like a fraud. Shouldn’t I be happy to be going to support my sister of all people? Shouldn’t I feel something other than the pit of dread that’s been in my stomach since I woke up this morning?
I’m caught between feeling like I want to do nothing more than rip this dress off, get into my pajamas, and spend the night on the couch with a tub of ice cream and knowing that I have to go to this thing.
If I don’t show up, it’ll only look worse. I keep reminding myself of that.
From the doorway, someone wolf whistles at me, and I turn to see Sawyer leaning against the doorframe, grinning.
“I guess one good thing about this stupid dinner is it’s a good chance to see you all dressed up,” he says. “You look beautiful.”
I can’t help but smile, ducking my head to hide the blush I can feel spreading over my cheeks.
“Thank you,” I murmur. I flick my eyes over him, taking in the dark suit that is clearly tailored to fit his long legs and broad shoulders.
He looks like a model, who just stepped off a runway somewhere to slum it with me.
“You look really good yourself,” I tell him.
He smirks and does a little spin. “Thank you, thank you. Can’t show up with a stunner like you on my arm and not try to match your energy.”
I laugh a little, but the smile doesn’t linger on my face for very long.
I know I haven’t been totally managing to hide my sadness lately.
I’ve been trying, because I don’t want the three of them to worry about me or be more upset than they probably already are, but it’s hard.
The sadness is there, always present, and it cuts deeper whenever I think about the bakery too hard.
Or when I try to imagine what my life is going to look like in a month.
It’s scary to feel so uncertain. To be so adrift.
Sawyer comes into the room and pulls me into his arms. He brushes my hair back from my face and puts a hand under my chin to make me look up at him.
“Don’t give up hope,” he says softly, as if he can read my mind. “You’re smart and resourceful on top of being drop dead gorgeous. You’re going to figure something out.”
I nod, dropping my gaze a little. “Yeah. I’m going to try, anyway.” That’s all I can do. Tempting as it is to give up and hide from it all, I know I can’t do that. Then Isabelle really would be winning.
“You’re not alone in this either. Remember that for me, okay? For all of us. We have your back, and we always will. We’ll help you.” He says it sincerely, staring down at me like he wants me to really hear what he’s saying.
I manage a small, but genuine smile. “That means a lot to me,” I tell him. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” He dips his head, brushing his lips over mine lightly at first, and then with more intent. I lean up, kissing him back because it always feels so good. One warm hand cups the small of my back, and he pulls me in a little closer to his body, deepening the kiss just a little.
When we separate, he doesn’t go far. He keeps looking down at me, our eye contact charged. There’s so much feeling in his eyes. There’s a playful little smile on his face, but his eyes hold a whole depth of emotion.
It makes me wonder what he sees when he looks at me.
“Sawyer?”
“Hm?” He tips his head to one side, still gazing at me.
“I just…”
Part of me wants to ask him if this is real. If the things I’m seeing and feeling aren’t a lie anymore and if it’s the same for him. But honestly, I’m too scared to find out the answer.
“Never mind,” I say. “We should hurry up.”
If the answer is no after all of this, I think it might break me.
My heart is so wrapped up in these men, and with everything else in my life in such a state of chaos and turmoil and loss, hearing that they’re still playing a game and doing all of this for the sake of the lie would hurt too much for me to deal with right now.
I can’t face it.
Lennox and Rhett come in, breaking into the moment.
“You look gorgeous,” Lennox says, smiling at me. He and Rhett are both dressed up as well, both of them looking classic and handsome in their suits. Lennox has that hot executive vibe going on, and Rhett fills out his suit jacket in a way that makes my mouth water a little.
“You do,” Rhett agrees. “But it’s going to be wasted on this shit show.”
“Rhett,” I sigh.
“You shouldn’t go,” he says for what has to be the fifth time today. “She doesn’t deserve to have your support. Maybe people will think something’s wrong with her if she can’t even have her own sister there tonight.”
“That’s not how it will go,” I explain again.
“She’ll spin it into me being jealous or something.
And my mom will back her up to save face.
Everyone will think I’m still pining over Andrew or that I’m just a bad sister.
I don’t want everyone to hate me over this, and I don’t want Isabelle to think she’s won. ”
Rhett goes to say something else, but Lennox puts a hand on his shoulder. “We understand,” he says. “And we should get going. We’re already going to make a scene walking in together, and it’ll be worse if we’re late.”
“Good,” Rhett mutters darkly, but he follows the rest of us out so we can drive over.
We get there in plenty of time, and I take a deep breath, plastering a hopefully convincing smile on my face as we walk in.
My mother is already holding court, and I give her a wide berth, not wanting to get into some argument or tense discussion with her tonight. My dad is standing nearby, holding her wine glass, and I bypass him too.
One of the bridesmaids, one of Isabelle’s friends from college, comes over to me, all smiles. “Violet,” she says. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too,” I say, trying to remember if she’s Anabelle or Tiffany. Most of Isabelle’s bridesmaids look alike in that beautiful blonde way, and in fancy dresses and heavy make-up, they’re even harder to keep straight.
“And these must be your men,” she practically purrs, looking at all three of the guys in turn.
“Anabelle Hamilton.” She holds her hand out, like she’s expecting them to kiss the back of it, but they just take turns shaking her hand instead.
All but Rhett, who gestures at his splinted wrist and shrugs.
“You know, I didn’t believe it when Isabelle told us that you had gone and shacked up with Andrew’s brothers, but here you are.”
It’s hard to tell if she’s judging me or if she’s jealous, so I just try to keep smiling and nod. “‘Shacked up’ isn’t what I’d call it, but yeah. We’ve known each other for a long time now.”
“Potato, potahto,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s still very impressive.”
I can see Isabelle looking in our direction with a frown on her face, so I cut the conversation short and keep mingling.
There are so many people to talk to, and most of them want to talk to or about the guys.
I remind myself that they have family here too, so it makes sense for them to have to mingle as well, but it’s nice that they keep an eye on me and try to stick close.
By the time dinner is served, I feel like there’s a chance I might make it through this in one piece without anything terrible happening.
So of course, after I come back from the bathroom after dinner, Isabelle is waiting for me.
“Hey,” she says, smiling her simpering smile. “Can we talk?”
My head is full of the memories of what happened the last time she wanted to have a private chat, but I can’t very well say no and walk away from her at her rehearsal dinner. Not without making a scene. I’m trying to keep my dignity here, and she’s making it harder than it needs to be.
“Don’t you have people waiting for you?” I ask, trying to slip by her.
She grabs my arm, stopping me. “Yeah, but they can wait. I really think you need to hear what I have to say.”
I grit my teeth, trying to keep the scream building in my chest from breaking out. All at once I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be catering to Isabelle’s whims and having her jerk me around. I just want to go home where it’s quiet, and I can lick my wounds in peace.
But there are eyes on us, and the guys are off somewhere, talking to their aunt or something, and it’s just me and Isabelle. So I take a deep breath and shake her off me. “What do you need, Isabelle?”
“Oh, it’s not about me,” she says, smiling, but there’s something wrong with the smile. Like there’s a sadness in it, even though it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“I know the truth about you and Andrew’s brothers,” she says.
Everything grinds to a halt. My heart skips a beat, and then feels like it’s trying to beat itself out of my chest. I swallow hard, trying to keep my reactions in check. We’ve made it this far, and I have no idea what Isabelle could know that would make her think she’s right about this.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her. “What’s the truth?”
“That you’re not actually dating. That this has all been a lie.”
My stomach clenches. “Where did you get that from?” I ask her, laughing like it’s absurd. “Are you just making stuff up now? I thought you had more important things to worry about than who I’m dating anyway. There’s a whole room full of people here to celebrate you.”
“Violet,” she says, and her voice makes me grit my teeth. It’s so full of pity, and she’s looking at me like I’m one of those shelter animals on TV. “You don’t have to lie about it anymore. I just want what’s best for you, you know that.”
“Right,” I say, and it comes out drier than I meant for it too, but it’s hard to hold back now.
“I’m not just making things up. The guys told me it was fake. They said they were lying to help you save face.”