16. Reid
Reid
“How was the wedding?” Drew asks as we walk through the Upper East Side. We are headed to a bridal shop, again, to try on suits in–you guessed it…salmon.
“Hard,” I tell him. Pun intended, though it goes over his head.
“But it went well, right?” he asks. “I don’t know AJ all that well, but I do know he’s over the top.”
Despite being my best friend, Drew is separate from all the wedding bros. While I know them mostly from college and work, Drew and I go clear back to high school. He is in our fantasy football league, so at least he knows what the guys are like, which is why he is spot on about AJ’s wedding.
“So much money,” I shake my head.
“Weddings be like that,” he muses, but I don’t find it funny. It’s nuts. “So I gotta ask. Do you really think you’re going to make it?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask as we wait at a crosswalk for the light to turn.
“I’m talking about this whole wedding date thing. Do you really think you can survive another two weddings?”
“It’s not like I have a choice. I have to be at the weddings, you know that,” I say.
“Well yeah, but with her? It seems like she pushes your buttons pretty hard,” he says.
“She is infuriating. But nothing I can’t handle,” I answer, and the light turns. “Your lack of faith in my ability to do so is a bit disappointing.”
“Oh, I don’t question your ability to handle her. You’re pretty good at dealing with difficult people, obviously,” Drew says, and there’s something under his tone I’m not loving.
“Okay, so what is it you’re questioning?” I ask.
“Your ability to not give in,” he grins, and if we weren’t literally in the process of crossing a New York City street with twelve seconds remaining, I would have come to a complete halt.
“Give in to what?” I snap once we are back on the sidewalk.
“To her,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Come on, Reid. No one actually buys that your banter is just for show. Even if you’re not really dating her, you kind of are. And even if you don’t intend to fall in love with her, it doesn’t mean you won’t.”
“I am not having this conversation,” I say, and Drew’s grin dials back to a smirk, which almost pisses me off more because it’s quietly cocky.
“Just because you’re not having the conversation doesn’t mean you’re not fucked,” he dares to jab, and I shoot him a look.
“You’re going to be fucked in a second if you don’t back up,” I say, and Drew just laughs. He’s the only one who can push me like this and get away with it. Although he’s walking on thin ice right now.
“I’m just saying you can’t fake chemistry, brother. Or attraction. Trust me. I’ve been there…twice.”
“Yeah, twice. Because you fucked it up the first time. Hopefully, that’s not the case again.”
I am attempting to get a jab in because he’s pissing me off. But Drew isn’t fazed. Not only is he used to my shit, but Cassidy has her nails deep, and I’ve known since the beginning that even a spectacular lawyer can’t convince him otherwise.
Which is why we are here, at Tie the Knot, getting ready to suit up.
“Listen,” he says as we approach the storefront, “I get how you feel. My first relationship was catastrophic; you remember. You were there with Jenny. And I thought that was it. Until I met Cassidy. Everyone thinks the person who broke their heart was endgame until they meet the one who will end the game. And along with that, they end the heartache, the pessimism, the hopelessness, the loneliness.”
“I’m not lonely,” I say. “And I can keep this up. I’m a lawyer. Keeping up an act is what I do.”
“Yeah, when it’s other people's lives. This is your life. And your heart,” Drew reminds me.
“My heart isn’t in it,” I say flatly.
“No, only your time and energy and everything else,” he scoffs. “Are you going to sleep with her?”
“Of course not…” I answer. Because I am honoring that part of the agreement. But I also decided to leave out what we have done.
“Good,” he tells me. “That would just lead to trouble. Especially if you don’t want to fall in love with her.”
And that, of course, is not going to happen. Quinn and I have a perfectly configured game plan. As far as I’m concerned, I am in complete control.
I open the door with that absolution, and then I stopped; frozen in my tracks.
It’s like the words have been sucked clean out of my mouth or out of my brain for that matter.
Because in front of me, the moment I walk into the bridal shop, is a stage surrounded by mirrors.
And standing right in the middle of that stage is none other than Quinn in a stark white wedding gown.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. Quinn is doe-eyed, blinking like she’s trying to figure out if I’m real or if she’s dreaming. I know this because I am doing the same. I know why I am here, but why the hell is she here? And why is she wearing a wedding gown?
Meanwhile, Drew puts two and two together, and so does a woman standing next to Quinn. The woman is also wearing a wedding dress, but it’s much more subtle. Much less jaw-dropping.
Much less Quinn.
“Holy shit,” Drew lets out. “Is this her?”
“Oh my God,” the woman says. “That’s him.”
Finally, Quinn and I both press play again and blink at the same time.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Are you getting married?” I ask her and immediately feel like an idiot. But what else am I supposed to think?
“What?” she stutters. “No. I mean, not yet. I mean–”
“This is Quinn?” Drew asks with a smile. “Your date for my wedding?”
“Actually, I’m going to all the weddings,” Quinn says. And I don’t know how she figured out how to make words happen so quickly. I’m still stumbling over my own tongue because…what the fuck is she wearing?
“Oh,” Drew says, playing dumb. “So it’s serious…”
That’s enough to pull me back into the room, and I shoot him a death glare.
“No,” I say, but at the same time, Quinn says,
“Yes,” with a smile.
Then there’s just this awkward moment. I’m annoyed. Drew is amused. Quinn is standing there in that damn dress. And the other girl simply clasps her hands together, the only person in the room that seems to have her shit together.
“Well, I’m hungry,” she says. “Is anyone else hungry?”
“Hungry?” Quinn asks. “Yes. Of course. Hungry and hot. This dress is so hot. I’m going to get out of this dress.”
She heads off the stage, and for whatever stupid reason, my eyes go with her momentarily, until the girl talks again.
“How about you two?” she asks.
“I could eat,” Drew says.
Fuck.
* * *
“This is Allegra, by the way,” Quinn tells me and Drew once we are all seated and have ordered food at a nearby burger joint. “She’s my best friend and the best therapist I know.”
“I don’t know about that,” Allegra smiles. “The best therapist part, not the best friend part.”
“So she’s your therapist?” Drew asks, pointing between them, and they both laugh.
“No,” Quinn answers. “She’s one of the therapists that I send my clients to.”
“That’s right. You run the nonprofit,” Drew says. He’s having way too much fun with this. I need more alcohol with this. I down my beer and pour myself another from the pitcher in the middle of the table. “And how is that going?”
This motherfucker. He is either teasing her or fucking with me. The smirk playing at the corners of his mouth tells me it’s probably both. But Quinn is too smart for him.
“It’s going well,” she says with confidence. “It’s always amazing how many people actually want to give love a second chance.”
“Amen to that,” Drew agrees, and I feel like they are both fucking with me now.
“What about you?” Drew asks Allegra. “Are you married?”
“I am. Five years next month. We have a baby together and just bought a new home and–”
“Let me guess, you’re looking into golden retriever breeders in the area,” I say, and it’s not the nicest thing to spout off to Quinn’s best friend. But in my defense, I never wanted to come to lunch today. I wanted to get fitted for an abhorrent colored tux and go home.
But Allegra just smiles. Meanwhile, her eyes study me as if they’re mentally peeling back the layers, trying to figure out my attachment style and diagnose my childhood trauma.
“Already have one. A doodle though. His name is Banjo.”
“I love doodles,” Drew chimes in, and I am relieved when our food comes. It’ll give my mouth something to do besides scowl.
After everyone dives into their food, I hope that we can switch to a more tolerable subject. The weather. Football pre-season. The war. Anything but this. Unfortunately, I’m not that lucky.
“Speaking of second chances,” Quinn says, dabbing her perfect cupid’s bow and smiling at her friend. “Allegra and her husband are about to renew their vows!” she beams.
“Are they expiring?” I tease, and Quinn tosses me a look along with a playful smack on the arm.
Drew chuckles. “Marriage vows don’t expire. They’re not like car registrations.”
“We are renewing our vows as a symbol of recommitment,” Allegra goes on. “With the divorce rates being what they are, we want to keep our love centered. And what better way to do that than a big party with friends?”
“What they really want is an excuse to party with friends,” Quinn teases, and everyone laughs. Everyone except me. Because I can’t seem to wrap my brain around the concept.
“I don’t want to sound ignorant,” I say. “But what’s the point of that?”
“Jesus, here we go,” Drew mutters. “You’ll have to excuse Reid. He’s a divorce lawyer, and the concept of love is a bit foreign to him.”
“No, no,” I shake my head and hold my hand up. “It’s a genuine question. If you said your vows when you got married, or even when he proposed and you said yes, why do you have to reiterate it? Doesn’t that negate the promise to love them until death do you part?”
And while I’m sure my question sounds idiotic to everyone else, no one makes any jabs. They just wait for Allegra to respond.
“Because it’s complicated. It takes patience and selflessness, and work.
But also, people change. They evolve and grow and become.
The vow renewal isn’t just restating the love you already declared.
It’s promising to love the new version of them.
The new season of your marriage. And every version they will become. ”
That…seems needlessly complicated.
“That…is so beautiful,” Quinn says as she uses her napkin to dab her eyes.
With that, my phone buzzes with a text. “Speaking of that,” I say, typing a quick response before shoving it back in my pocket. “I have a new client.”
“Please, darling, can’t you get through a single lunch with friends without ruining another marriage?” Quinn jokes.
“To you, I’m ruining a marriage. To me, I’m saving someone from ruining their life,” I say, and as expected, everyone rolls their eyes. Everyone except Allegra, who studies me again.
“I’m curious,” she says. “When people come to you at the end of their rope and looking to end it all, what gives you purpose in that process? A genuine question.”
“Of course,” I say. “Contrary to what the poets might think, marriage isn’t always sweet good nights and vow renewals.
I’ve been doing this for a long time. And I’ve seen a lot of hurt.
A lot of ruin. A lot of people have been destroyed by a lack of love, a lack of patience and kindness, and a lack of honesty.
I’ve helped people in broken situations, situations involving infidelity and gaslighting, and abuse, both emotional and physical.
To you guys, I might look like the devil.
But I’ve actually had clients in grave scenarios tell me I saved them. That’s why I do it.”
As expected, no one has anything to say to that. At least until I take another bite of my food and Quinn mutters under her breath.
“Damn. You really are a lawyer.”
And I don’t know whether it’s a compliment or an insult.