Chapter Twenty-Nine
The wedding was set to take place on the hotel’s dock, followed by a reception on the beach.
But for the rehearsal dinner, Mom and Keith had rented out a small seafood restaurant just up the road from the hotel, famous for its grilled lobster, rum punch, and incredible sunset views.
By the time Leo and I arrived, most of the guests were already out on the dance floor, swaying to the rhythm of a local Caribbean band.
Keith spotted us from across the patio and pointed over to the seating chart: a black net draped over a driftwood frame, the words Find Your Port of Call stenciled in white letters across the back.
“Let’s see where we’re headed,” Leo said, scanning the fishing hooks to find our names. “Here we are, Table Seven: Ship Happens.”
He raised his eyebrows and led me through the maze of tables until we landed at ours.
I was relieved to find we were seated with Marin plus a handful of Mom’s colleagues, professors from the women’s studies department at Barnard she’d worked with forever.
I hadn’t even realized how many had come for the wedding.
I threw out a few friendly waves and then scanned the room for Matty.
He was on the far opposite side of the space deep in conversation with Shira.
Leo set his suit jacket on a chair. “Can I get you ladies a drink?”
Marin shook her head and glanced down at her phone. “Not yet, thank you.”
“I’ll take one,” I said quickly.
“Wine? . . . Or something stronger?”
I eyed him with a look that said everything I didn’t.
“Gin, got it. Be right back,” he said and left to make his way toward the bar.
Marin turned to me. “I thought after a day with Leo you’d be a little lighter. So why does your face look like that?”
“What’s wrong with my face?” I deadpanned.
“You mean, aside from the fact that you look more like you’re at a funeral than a wedding?”
“I’m . . . I’m just taking it all in,” I responded with a shrug.
“My ass! You’re pouting. If anyone can recognize the Elliot silent treatment, it’s me. Remember that one time in sixth grade? Gurrrl, I thought you were gonna be mad at me forever.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for convincing me you knew how to cut bangs,” I said, only half joking.
“Seriously, though, what’s wrong? Did you have a shit time with Leo today?” Marin asked and sipped her water.
“No, not at all. That’s the thing, we had an amazing time.
And then Izzy showed up at my villa, reminding me I’m supposed to give some stupid toast tonight, and suddenly I’m spiraling.
If my mother’s past has taught me anything, it’s not to let things get too serious.
Keep it light, fun, and most of all, temporary.
Like, what am I even doing here in Belize with Leo?
And now, on top of everything, there’s this—” I motioned toward the hibiscus flowers, the coconuts with the initials S and K carved into them, the flickering candlelight.
“This? This whole scene? It’s all a goddamn joke. ”
Marin’s eyes widened as she glanced around.
“Can you keep your voice down? You might think this is all ridiculous, but this is what she thinks is going to make her happy. How can you fault anyone for chasing joy? In a world this harsh and exhausting, isn’t it brave, hell, almost defiant, to keep running toward love, even after it’s knocked you flat on your ass again and again?
Life’s messy, but having someone to go through it with?
Pretty f-ing amazing. You would know that if you ever stopped overthinking everything.
You’re so busy running through the what-ifs, you never think about the what-could-bes.
Maybe your mom’s just brave enough to go after what she wants.
Either way, at least she’s trying. What are you doing? ”
“Excuse me?”
“You and Leo have something rare. You found someone who really sees you, who shows up for you. Anyone can see you’re happy with him. What I can’t understand is why you’re fighting it so damn hard.”
I went to open my mouth to respond, but my voice caught, tight and raw in my throat.
Instead, I glanced at the dance floor. There was Matty, light and laughing, spinning Izzy in a way I used to know all too well.
Then my gaze wandered over to the entrance, and I spotted my mother, hovering at the door, her eyes finding mine instantly through the swarm of hugs and hellos from the other guests.
She looked almost surprised to see me, like after our fight at karaoke last night, she hadn’t really expected me to come.
Snaking through the sea of greetings, she made her way over to us just as Leo returned with our drinks. Mom extended a limp hand in his direction like some sort of duchess. “Leo, you made it! I knew you would.”
“Wouldn’t have missed it,” he said. “Congratulations, Mrs. West.”
“Mrs. Banner in a few hours,” she corrected. “And really, I keep telling you, just call me Sonja.”
“Wait? You’re changing your name?” I asked, surprised. “In all these marriages, you’ve never changed your name.”
She hesitated, smoothing the front of her dress. “It’s important to Keith, so . . .”
“So?” I cut in. “So what? You’re giving up your name for his ego?”
“It’s not about ego, Elliot. Keith isn’t asking me to change who I am. Just to commit to our partnership. And I think . . . I think that’s a really lovely thing. It’s what I want too.”
“Yeah, for now,” I muttered.
For a moment, she stood there stunned before she straightened her shoulders and forced a smile. “Nice to see you, Leo. Don’t miss the buffet. The lobster’s absolutely divine.”
After she left, I sat, swirling my gin tumbler in slow circles, the condensation puddling into the white linen like little Rorschach tests.
The music from the band floated up into the gauzy Caribbean night, a lazy steel-drum version of something retro and harmless.
Around me, everyone seemed flushed with sun-kissed skin and boozy glows, their laughter easy, their shoulders loose.
I glanced up to the dance floor again, watching it all like an outsider looking in.
My father stood near the edge, Allegra’s hand in his, their hips swaying in tandem. He twirled her and she threw her head back with a giggle, moving like they had been doing it for years. They probably had.
The comfort between them wasn’t just biological.
It was more than him just being her father.
It was the easy, practiced way that came from years of being really known.
Allegra was, what, seventeen? Eighteen? Barefoot in a sundress, hair knotted on top of her head, eyes full of light.
And he was the kind of dad I used to pretend I had when I’d lie to my teachers about why he wasn’t at my soccer games. Or the science fair. Or anywhere.
Next to me, Marin raised an eyebrow at the scene. “Cute,” she murmured, and took a sip from her spritz.
I forced a smile. “Yeah.”
Leo leaned in, his voice low. “You okay?”
“Fine,” I said too quickly. “I just didn’t know he could dance like that.” My eyes were fixed across the room. “Or laugh like that. Or . . . be like that.” I nodded toward them.
They spun again, and I caught an unrecognizable flash of something in his face.
Pure joy. The kind of joy I never remembered him having when I was little.
It was silly, I knew that. Years had passed.
People change. But as he tucked a stray curl behind Allegra’s ear and whispered something that made her beam, I couldn’t help the pang that lodged deep in my chest.
“He’s the dad I used to imagine having,” I murmured, “when I’d try to pretend he hadn’t left.”
Neither of them said anything. They didn’t have to. I didn’t mean it as a dig. Not really. It was just the truth. Marin busied herself with her drink. Leo gave my hand a gentle squeeze, grounding me in the moment, but the ache lingered.
The band changed songs, and I finally looked away.
But even with my back turned, I could still feel the sharp sting of absence, the unfairness of watching someone else get the version of my father that I never got.
Somewhere off to the right, someone tapped a fork against a glass and called for toasts.
Perfect.
A few heads turned, and the murmurs of the party died down as the DJ dimmed the music. I straightened in my chair and reached for my note card. The words I’d quickly scribbled down after Izzy left the villa suddenly felt foreign in my hand. Like I’d written them for someone else entirely.
Standing, I cleared my throat and raised my glass, trying like hell to smile, but its tightness felt forced and uncomfortable. “Hi, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Elliot, Sonja’s daughter and, apparently, her maid of honor, though I’m still not quite sure how that happened.”
A light chuckle worked its way through the crowd.
“Tonight, we’re here to celebrate love. Again.”
A smattering of a few more chuckles, but this time, I paused and caught Dad’s eye. He smirked but looked increasingly uncomfortable.
But I didn’t relent. Instead, I lifted my glass and continued, “To new beginnings. Fresh starts. And finding that one person who doesn’t just get you but . . . sticks around. Through thick and thin, highs and lows, the good times and the not-so-good times.”
I offered another smile, more forced this time, as my eyes darted straight to Matty. Now it was his turn to fidget.
“Well, Keith, welcome to the family. You’ve already survived a week with us in paradise, so I guess that’s a promising start. And Mom . . .”
I took a breath, holding the pause like a hostage and hoping like hell the words would come out softer than the cynic in me would deliver them.
“You look . . . happy. I hope that’s exactly what this chapter brings you. Sincerely, I really do. Happiness. Stability. And someone who finally keeps their promises.”
Dad again shifted in his chair, and I noticed Shira take his arm and rub it supportively.