20. Elliot
Chapter twenty
Elliot
I ’m like a hawk—locked in, focused. I’ve had my eyes on Olivia all day. From the moment Daniel and Jules exchanged vows in the garden, to now, as she floats around the reception hall, smiling and waving at familiar faces. This is what happens when I let my emotions spiral and my mouth runs without restraint.
And that dress… God, that dress. It’s impossible to look away. I need to end this. Tonight. The friendship—everything—before I lose my mind completely.
She’s coming toward me now, a smile lighting up her face. It's not the best time for her to be smiling. Right now, I'm the most dangerous man in this room. She hands me a champagne flute, the pink bubbles fizzing at the rim, oblivious to the storm raging inside me.
“We did it, El! Well, Emma planned it, but we helped,” she says with pride, glancing around at the beautifully decorated room.
She’s right, in a way. Watching Daniel and Julia at the head of the table, grinning and whispering like teenagers, I know this day wouldn’t be half as fulfilling if we hadn’t set our differences aside.
“We do make a great team, Ollie.” I smile, raising my glass to hers.
“And even better friends,” she replies, clinking her glass against mine with a radiant grin.
The words land like a punch to the gut. Better friends? It’s a cruel irony. How much longer can I keep pretending I only see her as a friend when my feelings run so much deeper? She should know better than anyone what’s really going on—the unspoken tension between us every time we "accidentally" end up alone, the way our supposed friendly outings always feel more like dates.
The sharp screech of a microphone pulls me from my thoughts as Emma’s voice cuts through the noise.
“I hope everyone’s enjoying the evening! At this time, I’d like to invite a couple of very special guests to say a few words to our bride and groom.”
“Uh-oh, that’s me.” I wink at Olivia, downing the rest of my champagne and grabbing another glass on my way to the front.
All eyes are on me now, including hers. For some reason, I feel a flicker of nerves—a business mogul, nervous in front of a few townies. Ridiculous.
I take a breath, steadying myself as I grip the microphone. “I was going to say I’m not a man of many words, but Danny would never forgive me—especially after giving me months to come up with this speech.”
Laughter ripples through the crowd, and Olivia’s smile is the brightest of all. I clear my throat and continue, trying to focus.
“Danny was the first real friend I ever had. The Reeds welcomed me into their family like one of their own—fed me, gave me a place to belong when I needed it most. I didn’t just gain a friend; I gained a brother.” My throat tightens as I glance at Daniel, who’s blinking back tears. “You’ve always deserved the very best, and seeing you here today with Julia… it’s perfect. If I left this world today, I’d do so grateful for the bond we share.”
Danny nods, his eyes glassy, and the room fills with soft applause.
Turning to Julia, I smile. “And to Julia—thank you for loving him, quirks and all. You’ve brought out the best in him, and I know you’ll keep doing that for the rest of your lives. Here’s to a lifetime of love and happiness for you both.”
The applause swells as I raise my glass and the room toasts the newlyweds. But when I turn back to Olivia, her eyes are red-rimmed, her mascara slightly smudged. She’s been crying.
“Your speech was beautiful, El. I can’t believe you just… came up with that.”
“I didn’t plan it, Ollie. It just... happened.” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “Give me a minute.”
I leave the reception hall before my own emotions betray me. The cold air hits my face as I step outside, the chill clearing my mind. Earlier, the idea of a life like Daniel’s—stable, predictable, full of love—had flitted across my thoughts. The idea of that life with Olivia.
But that’s not who I am. Broken people like me—people who’ve been through too much—end up hurting others. And hurting her is the last thing I want.
The door creaks open beside me, and Aaron steps out, handing me a bottle of water. I unscrew the cap and drink, hoping the cool liquid will wash away the tightness in my chest.
“You missed Olivia’s speech,” Aaron says with his usual grin. “I’ve gotta admit, it was better than yours.”
I roll my eyes, pushing off the railing. “It’s not a competition, Aaron. I should head back in.”
“Good idea. The night’s young—who knows, maybe another love story will start tonight.” He winks before heading back inside.
By the time I re-enter, the music has shifted, and couples are beginning to rise from their seats, ready to dance. Olivia spots me, her eyes sparkling as she holds out her hand. “Shall we celebrate our success with a dance?”
I hesitate, my heart hammering in my chest. I wasn’t planning on dancing tonight, but how can I say no to her?
“I… wasn’t really planning on dancing,” I admit, scratching the back of my neck. “But celebrating with you sounds perfect. Let’s make it a moment to remember.”
The soft notes of a violin version of Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling in Love” begin to play as her hands slide onto my shoulders and mine find their place around her waist. We glide across the floor, the silence between us comforting and unnerving all at once.
“I got you a parting gift,” I whisper, the weight of what I’m about to do pressing down on me. “A token… for everything.”
“A gift? Now?” She laughs, clearly surprised. “Let’s see it, then.”
I pull a small jewelry box from my jacket pocket, watching as her eyes light up when I open it. But there’s a flicker of something else—sadness, maybe. I clasp the delicate bracelet around her wrist, our fingers brushing.
“It’s beautiful, El. You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to,” I say quietly, one truth I can allow myself.
As the song begins to fade, she glances up at me, her voice barely above a whisper. “So, I guess this is it. The end of our story.”
“Not yet,” I murmur, pulling her back into my arms as the music shifts to Ellie Goulding’s “How Long Will I Love You.” “You still owe me one more dance.”
Her head rests against my chest this time, and for a few precious minutes, everything feels perfect. But I know the truth. It’s not.
“Just for a few more hours,” I think to myself. “Pretend everything’s perfect, and you’re not completely falling apart.”