49. The Biggest Fan
EVA
Iweave through the crowd of well-wishers, my heart pounding against my ribcage. West stands there, all smiles as the new Groomsman to Groom. He’s looking better than ever, but things always look better after you lose them.
Nah, he looks amazing—and that’s empirical.
“West!” I elbow my way through a cluster of women who are eying him like he’s the last piece of chocolate cake.
He turns, those whiskey eyes locking onto mine, and my knees go wobbly. “Eva! Did you see my interview?” He’s grinning from ear to ear.
“Of course! Wouldn’t have missed it, Mr. Groomsman to Groom,” I say, fighting like hell to sound breezy. My palms are sweaty, and I hope I don’t look as nervous as I feel.
“Thanks, Manhattan.”
“I’m so happy for you.” And I am—truly. But there’s this giant ‘but’ lodged in my throat, big enough to choke on.
“Thanks. It means a lot, coming from you.” I swear there’s a flicker of something more in his gaze.
“Listen, West.” I bite my lip. This is it, Eva. “There’s something I gotta tell you. Now.” I look around to see the place swarming with women ready to interrupt us at any second.
“Shoot.” He tilts his head, attentive, and the hum of celebration fades into the background.
I take a deep breath, feeling like I’m about to step off a cliff. “There’s something I need you to know.” The words tumble out in a rush. “Feelings. Like, the kind that make you want to throw pebbles at someone’s window or write terrible love songs.”
Please just crawl into a hole.
I brace myself for laughter, for rejection, for anything but the shock that seems to freeze him in place.
“Yep, wow. Big, fat, freaking Cupid’s arrow through the heart. Wow.” I offer a weak smile. “The thing is, you’re my lobster.”
“Huh?” He looks at me, stunned and puzzled, and for a moment, it’s just us again. No confessions hanging in the air, no reality TV crews buzzing around. Just West and those eyes.
“Let me start over.” I blow out a whoosh of air and say, “I love you, West Quinn. I’m trying with everything in me not to because it’s the most inconvenient truth, for both of us, it seems, but I can’t help it. I just do.” I blink, realizing I’m not done. “And I’m not talking about some half-baked, high-on-champagne toast kind of love. I’m talking a full-blown, burn-your-tongue-but-still-drink-it-because-it’s-so-damn-good kind of love. It’s real, and it’s forever.”
His mouth opens slightly, no sound emerging. His shock is almost palpable, a wave crashing into both of us.
“I know this took me way too long. I’ve been dealing with issues related to my mom’s death—deep-seated issues that have held me back from living the life I want to live. I’m working through that now, getting help, so I’m sorry my timing sucks.” I let out a shaky breath, my soul bared naked. “And for not realizing sooner what I had right in front of me, I’m sorry.”
“Jesus, Eva...” he says, looking every bit the lost boy who wandered too far from Neverland. “I’m not sure what to say.”
I manage a weak smile. “As you told me—you don’t have to say anything,” I offer with a wobbly grin, gathering the pieces of my exposed heart. “This was just something that had to be said. And, yes, this is probably the worst timing ever,” I rush out. “But that seems to be how we operate, so… I mean, you’re Mr. Groomsman to Groom, about to be America’s sweetheart or whatever.”
“God, our timing is complete shit.” He shakes his head.
His Adam’s apple bobs—an attempt to find his voice. My heart races, but I barrel on; there’s no turning back now. “Oh, and your eyes have always reminded me of the rich ganache on my failed bakery’s signature cake. Just FYI.” I wave a hand. “Anyway, all you need to do now is promise that you’ll chase after whatever sets your soul on fire. But you have to do it, because more than anything, I want you to be happy. And not the kind of happy where you smile but inside you’re dying a little. I mean singing-in-the-shower kind of happy.”
“Because you love me...” He trails off, not a question, but an echo, a confirmation for his own ears.
“Because I love you,” I say with all the steadfast conviction of someone who knows this is the most unshakable truth she’s ever spoken. “And loving someone means wanting the best for them—even if it sucks for me.”
“Right. I know how that goes.”
“You really do.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, the shock finally giving way to the West I know.
“Even then,” I say, my voice softening. “Especially then.”
He steps forward, closing the gap between us, and the air seems to hum with something electric, something hopeful. We stand there, suspended in a moment that feels too big for the both of us, until the crowd rushes him, and women ask one question after another.
I give him a smile and wave, letting him get back to his duties.
And just like that, I’ve laid my heart bare at the altar of truth, regardless of the outcome. And it hurts, but it’s freeing. But hey, that’s love. A comedy one minute, a tragedy the next, and always a hell of a ride.