Chapter 18 Rodriguez
RODRIGUEZ
Juliette’s in the bathroom and I’m staring at a blank hotel notepad like it’s going to write itself.
It won’t.
I’ve been sitting here for almost fifteen minutes. There’s a small pile of crumpled attempts in the trash can. Four different versions of the same problem: I don’t know how to say what I need to say.
I see you - sounds like a threat from a horror movie
You’re incredible - what is this, a participation trophy?
Today was perfect - boring, generic, could be about anything
I love you - absolutely not, way too soon, she’ll panic
I press the pen to paper.
Nothing.
My hand won’t move. My brain won’t cooperate. I’ve left her notes all week but this feels different. Like whatever I write needs to matter more.
What if I write the wrong thing? What if I push too hard and she—
The bathroom door opens and steam rolls out.
I flip the notepad over fast. Too fast. Definitely suspicious.
Juliette’s in a towel, hair dripping, water running down her shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“You look guilty.”
“I always look guilty.”
She gives me a look like she knows I’m full of shit but she’s not going to push.
I need to figure this out. I need to write something. But not now. Not with her watching.
“We need to leave soon,” she says.
I grab my suit and escape to the bathroom.
The church is old and stone and I barely notice any of it because Olivia’s already spotted us and she’s moving fast.
“You’re here!” She hugs Juliette, then turns to me. “Okay, so we have a minor crisis but this can work. One of Owen’s groomsmen is in the hospital with food poisoning. Rodriguez can you please walk with Emma?”
“No problem.”
“You’re the best. Okay, wedding party is gathering in the back. Come on.”
She drags me toward a group of guys. Then a tiny woman with a clipboard appears and starts organizing everyone like we’re chess pieces.
“Parents first, then bridesmaids and groomsmen in pairs. Maid of honor with best man—”
That’s when my brain catches up.
Maid of honor. Best man.
Juliette. Garrett.
I watch her walk to the back and stand next to him.
Oh no.
“You’re with me,” Emma says, looping her arm through mine. She’s one of the bridesmaids. Blonde, friendly, talking about something I’m not really listening to because Juliette’s standing there with Garrett and I’m three groomsmen away.
“Parents first!” the coordinator calls.
Juliette’s mom walks. Then Owen’s parents. Then Emma’s pulling me forward.
We walk down the aisle but my mind keeps replaying the image of Juliette and Garrett behind me and how I want to insert myself in between them so he can’t even touch her.
I turn and see them walking together, perfectly in step. He’s talking to her, his mouth moving rapidly and her face is turned away, as if she can’t be bothered by what he’s whispering.
They look right together and my chest physically hurts, as if someone’s dropped a weight there and I can’t even inhale a full breath.
She’s walking toward the altar and she glances up briefly, our eyes meet and my brain does something stupid.
It replaces Garrett with me.
Suddenly I’m seeing it. Juliette in white. Walking toward me. Not her sister’s wedding. Ours.
Her hair would be down. She’d probably hate that but I’d convince her. And she’d be crying because Juliette pretends she doesn’t cry but she does. And her dad would be walking her toward me and I’d be standing right there waiting and—
Wait.
Wait wait wait.
What the fuck.
I’m thinking about marrying her. Actually marrying her.
We’ve been dating for approximately 8 hours. She hasn’t even said she loves me. I haven’t said it to her. And now I’m having wedding fantasies like some kind of psychopath.
Pump the brakes. Slow down.
Except I can’t stop seeing it.
Her in white. My ring on her finger. Waking up next to her every morning.
I want that.
Holy shit I want that so much it’s making me dizzy.
I actually sway on my feet.
“You good?” One of the groomsmen whispers.
“Yeah. Fine.”
I’m not fine. I’m losing my mind. I’m standing in a church watching my fake-not-fake-girlfriend walk down the aisle with her ex-boyfriend and my brain is short-circuiting between “propose to her right now” and “you absolute lunatic you’ve been together for less time than it takes to play a hockey game. ”
This is week one. Week ONE. Normal people don’t think about marriage after one week.
But I’m not thinking about it like it’s some distant future thing. I’m thinking about it like it’s inevitable. Like it’s already decided and we’re just waiting.
Like I know how this ends and it ends with her.
Oh god I’m going to pass out.
They reach the altar. Juliette goes to Olivia’s side, directly across from where Garrett’s standing. She’s looking straight ahead, wearing the neutral expression she uses when she’s performing.
I’m three people away from her. Too far.
The officiant is explaining something. When to stand, when to sit. I’m not listening because I’m still seeing her in white at our wedding. Trying to convince myself I’m not completely insane.
“Now we’ll practice the recessional,” the coordinator says. “Maid of honor and best man first.”
They have to walk back down the aisle together.
I watch Juliette take Garrett’s arm again. Watch them walk. Watch him lean close and say something, watch her turn her head away as if she’s completely snubbing him. I hope she is.
And my brain is still showing me the wrong version. The right version. Our version.
“Okay, let’s run through it again!” the coordinator calls.
They walk down the aisle together. Again.
By the third run-through I’m gripping my thigh to stay upright.
Half my brain is screaming: You need to lock this down. Propose. Make sure she’s yours.
The other half is screaming: YOU PSYCHO SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW IF SHE WANTS TO SAY SHE LOVES YOU.
Both halves are right. Both halves are wrong. I don’t know anymore.
I just know I want her. And watching her walk down an aisle with someone else is actually killing me.
“I think we’ve got it!” The coordinator sounds pleased. “Dinner in twenty minutes!”
Everyone starts moving, talking, heading for the exits. Juliette finds me.
“So. Guess you’re in the wedding.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s very committed for a fake boyfriend.”
“Good thing I’m not fake then.”
She smiles and takes my hand, I know I’m holding hers too tight but she doesn’t seem to mind.
The restaurant is loud, everyone talking over each other. I end up between Juliette and one of Owen’s cousins who won’t stop talking about crypto.
I’m not listening because I still can’t shake the image of Juliette in white. My brain is stuck in that church on the fantasy.
“You okay?” Juliette’s looking at me, her hand on my arm.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“You’re quiet.”
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
About marrying you. About what our wedding would look like. About whether asking after a week makes me romantic or delusional.
“Nothing. Just tired.”
She clearly doesn’t believe me but she lets it go.
The speeches start and Owen stands up first, looking nervous.
“I’m not good at speeches,” he starts. “But I want to thank everyone for being here.” He looks at Olivia. “And mostly I want to thank Olivia for agreeing to marry me even though she could definitely do better.”
Everyone laughs and Olivia’s already crying.
“I love you,” Owen continues. His voice cracks. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to deserve you. And I can’t wait to start tomorrow.”
That’s what I want. That feeling. That certainty. I want that with Juliette.
Olivia stands next, crying before she even starts talking. “Okay, my turn. And I’m going to be a disaster so bear with me.”
She thanks her parents, and Owen, then turns to us.
“And Jules.” She looks at her sister. “Thank you for being my person. For always being there.” She pauses. “And thank you for bringing Rodriguez. I’m so happy you found someone who makes you happy.”
Juliette squeezes my hand under the table.
Owen’s dad tells an embarrassing story about him. One of the bridesmaids talks about college with Olivia. A groomsman tells a story that’s probably too dirty for the parents.
Then Juliette’s dad stands and starts talking about watching his daughters grow up. About being proud of them.
He looks right at Juliette. “My serious one. My determined one. You’ve always been so hard on yourself. Always trying to be perfect. But I hope you know you’ve always been perfect to us. Just as you are.”
Juliette’s eyes are shining and she’s sniffling, trying not to cry.
“And Rodriguez—”
My heart stops. Oh my god. Why is he addressing me directly?
“Thank you for making my daughter smile like that. For seeing what’s special about her. She deserves someone who appreciates her.”
I can’t breathe and Juliette’s definitely crying now. I put my arm around her shoulders and she leans into me.
My brain is doing backflips because her dad approves. Her family likes me. She’s falling for me even if she can’t say it.
This could actually work. This could actually be forever.
I’m going to marry her someday.
The thought doesn’t scare me. It just feels true.
I’m listening to another story when I catch movement from the corner of my eye. Garrett’s pushing back from his table, a determined look on his face that means he’s about to do something stupid. He weaves through the chairs, heading straight for us. Of course he is.
He stops next to our chairs.
‘Jules. Can we talk?’”
Juliette’s face shuts down. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please. Just give me five minutes.”
She opens her mouth to reply but I’m already standing.
“She said no.”
Garrett looks at me. “I was talking to her.”
“I don’t care. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“This is between me and Jules—”
“There is no you and Jules.” My voice comes out harder than I mean for it to. “There’s just Juliette. And she said no. So walk away.”
His jaw clenches. “You don’t get to speak for her.”