by Odette Stone
His jaw tightened. “You look perfect.”
I worked my throat, trying to find something to say, but I could only stare back at him.
Moments ticked by.
He cleared his throat. “I got my papers. I'm being released from the outpatient program, and they’re sending me for training in a couple of weeks. I'll probably be gone by the time you and Matt get back from your honeymoon.”
I dropped onto a crouch and put my face in my hands. His words stabbed into my heart. I wanted to curl up in a ball and never get up.
“Are you okay?” he crouched down beside me.
“Why are you telling me this?” I looked up at his face. My heart was breaking in two.
“I wasn’t sure if I would have a chance to say goodbye to you.”
My eyes squeezed shut. I took several big breaths. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Emily.”
A sharp rap on the door and then Beth stuck her head in. “They’re about to cue the music.”
She glanced at Jackson and me and then backed out.
“You ready?” his voice was low.
My mind raced. This was a monumental mistake. He pulled me to my feet. I looked up at his face and willed him to look at me. I needed to see what he was thinking. I wanted to know what he was feeling. One flicker of emotion in his gaze and I would pick up my skirts and run to the doors.
He avoided my gaze and instead offered me his arm.
My shaking hand clung to the solid muscle of his forearm. This man had somehow become my rock. When I let go of him, I would simply wash away.
We stood at the entrance of the sanctuary. The music changed to Canon in D, and then there was a soft rumble as a hundred people stood up and turned to look at me. Matt stood at the front of the church beside the minister.
My legs shook so hard that I almost couldn’t walk. I clung to Jackson, and slowly we started up a thousand mile long aisle. We walked and walked, and like a bad dream, we never seemed to reach the front.
I can do this, I told myself. Just get through this.
At the front, Jackson proffered his hand and helped me up the steps. I got to the second top step and looked back into his face. I saw a flicker of something in his expression. He dropped my hand, but my fingers clung to his. He was my lifeline. My protector. The person I loved. The father of my child. I didn’t want to let go of him. I felt his grip re-tighten around my hand.
The audience shifted behind us. Whispering started. Matt cleared his throat, and then he stepped down towards me and offered me his hand. I looked at it and then looked back at Jackson’s face. Green eyes watched me.
I looked back at Matt and shook my head.
Matt whispered. “Sweetheart, come on. Let go of poor Jackson. You’re embarrassing him.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I started to let go of my lifeline, but Jackson’s hand tightened around mine. Our eyes met again.
I swallowed, staring at the man I loved. Unable to look at the man I was supposed to marry.
Matt stepped down beside me, and his grip tightened like a vice around my wrist. “Come.”
“I can’t marry you, Matt.”
Matt gave me a beguiling smile, his tone soothed. “Emily, come on.”
I shook my head.
Matt’s grip on my wrist tightened, and he tugged at me. Like he could physically drag me.
Jackson moved to stand beside me. “She said no.”
Matt stepped up to Jackson’s face and hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“She said no,” Jackson repeated quietly, still holding onto my hand.
People in the audience talked openly. The music continued to play.
“Is there a problem,” the minister crept forward and looked between the three of us.
“Emily has some wedding jitters,” Matt said between clenched teeth. “We just need to get her to let go of Jackson and then we’ll be on our way.”
The minister walked around to my side and spoke quietly, “Are you nervous? Do you need a few minutes?”
I looked up at the minster’s kind face. His warm brown eyes gave me the most sympathetic look imaginable.
Matt leaned in and hissed, “Emily, you’re embarrassing yourself and me. All of our friends and coworkers are watching.”
The minister put his hands up. “Calm, please, let’s remain calm. We want to handle this in a very calm fashion.”
“I don’t want to marry you,” I said in a small voice.
We watched as Matt walked away. He grabbed the edge of the table and did some deep breathing. He turned and then a flower vase sailed towards my head. Jackson’s arm reached in front of me and deflected the vase. It hit the side of the pulpit spraying water, flowers and glass in every direction. The audience gasped.
Matt picked up a silver offering plate, and it moved like a frisbee, but at the last moment, it veered off and hit the minister in the head. The minister looked at me, his eyes wide. He brought his hand up to his forehead and then looked at his hand. There was blood on his fingers. He moaned, and staggered off the side and sat down on the steps. I stood transfixed as someone from the audience ran up to him.
“You’re not doing this to me,” Matt announced, pointing his finger at me.
I stood there. Jackson still held my hand.
“You’re such a frigid little bitch. No one but me is ever going to want to marry you,” he ranted, as he picked up a hymnal and fired it towards me. Jackson reached and deflected that, too.
Jackson’s voice was low. “Matt shut up.”
Matt charged towards us, and he hauled back and punched Jackson in the face. Someone in the audience screamed. Jackson’s head snapped back as Matt’s fist connected with his face, but he didn’t react. His hand still held my own.
Matt wound up to hit Jackson again, and I couldn’t take it anymore. It had to stop.
“I’m pregnant.”
Matt and Jackson looked at me with equally stunned expressions on their faces.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeated.
You could feel the entire audience freeze. Canon in D continued to play softly in the background.
No one breathed. Except for Matt who was breathing so hard he was panting. “Well, that’s impossible since you and I have never slept together.”
“I'm truly sorry.”
“Who’s the father?” he asked, his voice was low, full of rage.
I swallowed and just stood there.
“Who the fuck is the father?” he screamed.
They both looked at me.
“Jackson.”
Green eyes widened. Matt’s mouth dropped open.
Then he pointed at me. “Fuck you.”
He pointed at Jackson. “And fuck you, too. You’re dead to me.”
He looked out around the audience and said in a loud voice. “My fiancée is a stupid slut who got herself knocked up with my brother. My alleged brother. Who’s just some white trash asshole that my parents brought home one day like a fucking stray dog.”
Matt gave an exaggerated bow and then walked out the side door.
Jackson didn’t move. I looked up at him.
My lips parted. “Say something.”
He dropped my hand.
“No,” I whispered.
His gaze looked my face over, and his expression was unreadable. His lip was bleeding. His eyes were blank. He turned and walked down the aisle.
The stunned congregation looked on.
The music started winding down and then went completely silent.
And then he was gone.
100 pairs of eyes swung back to me. I stood there frozen, in a trance. And then I did the only thing that a sane person can do in that situation. I picked up my skirts, and I ran.
My Fiancé’s Brother: Book two
Prologue
I stood in the room in the back of the church and stared in the mirror. My red hair was piled up on the top of my head. My sleeveless wedding dress’s
tight embroidered bodice nipped at my waist, and the skirt billowed out in an expanse of tulle to the floor. It was too tight. I guess that’s what happens when you’re ten weeks pregnant. Your wedding dress becomes a straight jacket on your rib cage. I took a deep breath and hated how I was unable to expand my lungs to full capacity.
“You look like a princess,” Beth breathed from beside me.
We stared at our reflections in the mirror. I looked so serious. So young and uncertain. How had I ended up here? Had my indecisiveness and my inability to speak my mind brought me to this point? I felt wracked with uncertainty.
The problem was I felt numb. I could feel nothing. My entire being was whitewashed, and there was no color, no feeling, no sense of what was right and what was wrong.
“Do you think I should marry Matt?” I asked Beth.
The champagne flute hovered halfway to her lips. Our eyes met in the mirror.
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
“It’s a real question.”
I watched as she drained the entire glass. “Oh, God.”
I waited as she poured herself another glass. And then downed that one.
She squared her shoulders and looked at me. “You can’t hold what I say against me if you don’t do what I think you should do.”
I nodded.
“I think marrying Matt is the biggest mistake you could make in your life. And I think from the moment you say ‘I do’ to the moment you get your inevitable divorce, you are going to regret it every day of your life.”
“Oh.”
She poured herself a third glass. “You promised me that you wouldn’t hold that against me.”
“I won’t.”
“And I'll be there for you every single day if you decide to go through with this.”
“Thanks.”
“And if you do marry him and you end up deliriously happy you won’t hold this conversation against me.”
“I won’t.”
There was a knock at the door. Was that Jackson? My heart almost stopped.
The usher wanted to let us know that all the guests were seated. Matt was ready to take his place at the front.
Beth looked at me, and I widened my eyes at her.
Beth spoke. “Tell them that the bride needs five more minutes.”
He nodded and shut the door behind him.
“Do you think Jackson is here?” My hands shook so hard my bouquet fluttered.
“You want me to go check?”
I nodded, grateful that she didn’t mention my obsession with Jackson when I should focus on Matt.
“I'll be right back,” she slipped out of the room.
The door opened. The entire room shrunk and the world took on color again. Jackson shut the door behind him. He stared at me, and I stared back. His black suit faultlessly hugged his huge form. I realized I had never actually seen him without some version of a beard on his face. The effects of his shaven face were stunning. He had the most beautiful jawline I had ever seen, and his cheekbones were so angular they looked like they could cut glass. I melted beneath his intense stare. His eyes roamed over me, taking in my hair, my dress, my trembling lips.
I realized at that moment, the only reason I hadn’t called off the wedding was I needed to see this man one last time. I loved him to the point of being heartsick. How could I feel so much for him and he felt nothing back? How was it possible that love this big, this real, this intense could be so one-sided?
His jaw tightened. “You look perfect.”
I worked my throat, trying to find something to say, but I could only stare back at him.
Moments ticked by.
He cleared his throat. “I got my papers. I'm being released from the outpatient program, and they’re sending me for training in a couple of weeks. I'll probably be gone by the time you and Matt get back from your honeymoon.”
I dropped onto a crouch and put my face in my hands. His words stabbed into my heart. I wanted to curl up in a ball and never get up.
“Are you okay?” he crouched down beside me.
“Why are you telling me this?” I looked up at his face. My heart was breaking in two.
“I wasn’t sure if I would have a chance to say goodbye to you.”
My eyes squeezed shut. I took several big breaths. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”
“Emily.”
A sharp rap on the door and then Beth stuck her head in. “They’re about to cue the music.”
She glanced at Jackson and me and then backed out.
“You ready?” his voice was low.
My mind raced. This was a monumental mistake. He pulled me to my feet. I looked up at his face and willed him to look at me. I needed to see what he was thinking. I wanted to know what he was feeling. One flicker of emotion in his gaze and I would pick up my skirts and run to the doors.
He avoided my gaze and instead offered me his arm.
My shaking hand clung to the solid muscle of his forearm. This man had somehow become my rock. When I let go of him, I would simply wash away.
We stood at the entrance of the sanctuary. The music changed to Canon in D, and then there was a soft rumble as a hundred people stood up and turned to look at me. Matt stood at the front of the church beside the minister.
My legs shook so hard that I almost couldn’t walk. I clung to Jackson, and slowly we started up a thousand mile long aisle. We walked and walked, and like a bad dream, we never seemed to reach the front.
I can do this, I told myself. Just get through this.
At the front, Jackson proffered his hand and helped me up the steps. I got to the second top step and looked back into his face. I saw a flicker of something in his expression. He dropped my hand, but my fingers clung to his. He was my lifeline. My protector. The person I loved. The father of my child. I didn’t want to let go of him. I felt his grip re-tighten around my hand.
The audience shifted behind us. Whispering started. Matt cleared his throat, and then he stepped down towards me and offered me his hand. I looked at it and then looked back at Jackson’s face. Green eyes watched me.
I looked back at Matt and shook my head.
Matt whispered. “Sweetheart, come on. Let go of poor Jackson. You’re embarrassing him.”
Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I started to let go of my lifeline, but Jackson’s hand tightened around mine. Our eyes met again.
I swallowed, staring at the man I loved. Unable to look at the man I was supposed to marry.
Matt stepped down beside me, and his grip tightened like a vice around my wrist. “Come.”
“I can’t marry you, Matt.”
Matt gave me a beguiling smile, his tone soothed. “Emily, come on.”
I shook my head.
Matt’s grip on my wrist tightened, and he tugged at me. Like he could physically drag me.
Jackson moved to stand beside me. “She said no.”
Matt stepped up to Jackson’s face and hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“She said no,” Jackson repeated quietly, still holding onto my hand.
People in the audience talked openly. The music continued to play.
“Is there a problem,” the minister crept forward and looked between the three of us.
“Emily has some wedding jitters,” Matt said between clenched teeth. “We just need to get her to let go of Jackson and then we’ll be on our way.”
The minister walked around to my side and spoke quietly, “Are you nervous? Do you need a few minutes?”
I looked up at the minster’s kind face. His warm brown eyes gave me the most sympathetic look imaginable.
Matt leaned in and hissed, “Emily, you’re embarrassing yourself and me. All of our friends and coworkers are watching.”
The minister put his hands up. “Calm, please, let’s remain calm. We want to handle this in a very calm fashion.”
“I don’t want to marry you,” I said in a small voice.
We watched as Matt w
alked away. He grabbed the edge of the table and did some deep breathing. He turned and then a flower vase sailed towards my head. Jackson’s arm reached in front of me and deflected the vase. It hit the side of the pulpit spraying water, flowers and glass in every direction. The audience gasped.
Matt picked up a silver offering plate, and it moved like a frisbee, but at the last moment, it veered off and hit the minister in the head. The minister looked at me, his eyes wide. He brought his hand up to his forehead and then looked at his hand. There was blood on his fingers. He moaned, and staggered off the side and sat down on the steps. I stood transfixed as someone from the audience ran up to him.
“You’re not doing this to me,” Matt announced, pointing his finger at me.
I stood there. Jackson still held my hand.
“You’re such a frigid little bitch. No one but me is ever going to want to marry you,” he ranted, as he picked up a hymnal and fired it towards me. Jackson reached and deflected that, too.
Jackson’s voice was low. “Matt shut up.”
Matt charged towards us, and he hauled back and punched Jackson in the face. Someone in the audience screamed. Jackson’s head snapped back as Matt’s fist connected with his face, but he didn’t react. His hand still held my own.
Matt wound up to hit Jackson again, and I couldn’t take it anymore. It had to stop.
“I’m pregnant.”
Matt and Jackson looked at me with equally stunned expressions on their faces.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeated.
You could feel the entire audience freeze. Canon in D continued to play softly in the background.
No one breathed. Except for Matt who was breathing so hard he was panting. “Well, that’s impossible since you and I have never slept together.”
“I'm truly sorry.”
“Who’s the father?” he asked, his voice was low, full of rage.
I swallowed and just stood there.
“Who the fuck is the father?” he screamed.
They both looked at me.
“Jackson.”
Green eyes widened. Matt’s mouth dropped open.
Then he pointed at me. “Fuck you.”
He pointed at Jackson. “And fuck you, too. You’re dead to me.”