Eastern Lights

by Brittainy Cherry

  Why the hell was my intern in my penthouse with no pants on?

  Rose went ahead and did what she had always done so well: she began to ramble.

  “Oh my goodness! Mr. Roe, I’m so, so sorry! You can totally take the price of the lamp out of my next paycheck. And, uh, oh gosh, if you’d like, I can pick up the pieces if you tell me where you keep your trash bags in your house. And oh my gosh, what a be-beautiful home you have, and, and—”

  “Rose.”

  She swallowed hard and stood still. “Yes, Mr. Roe?”

  “Leave my house.”

  She blinked a few times. “Of course, Mr. Roe.” She began walking toward the front door, and I called out toward her.

  “Before you exit, please get dressed in whatever it is you wore over here. I don’t need people seeing you leave half-naked.”

  “Right. Of course. Sorry, Mr. Roe. I’ll be gone in no time.”

  I couldn’t believe she’d even spent a moment in my home. What had she been thinking? No—what had Jason been thinking?

  After Rose slithered out of my house, I stared at Jason as if he were the biggest villain I’d ever crossed paths with.

  He held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me. She came on to me.”

  “She’s nineteen years old, Jason. Plus, it’s your damn wedding day!”

  “Don’t remind me,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked to my kitchen, swung my fridge door open, and took one of my water bottles. “Shit, my head is pounding.”

  Not shocking, seeing as how he’d drunk enough for a party of ten.

  “What the hell are you going to do? About the wedding?” I asked, hating every piece of him but also thinking about Aaliyah. This was going to crush her.

  “I mean, fuck. I don’t know, Connor. I fucked up last night—well, and this morning, but maybe that was it. Maybe that was my final bachelor moment, you know? I had to get it out before settling with Aaliyah.”

  Settling? As if she wasn’t the damn prize in their current situation. If anything, she was the one doing the settling.

  I brushed my thumb against my chin and sighed. “You should tell Aaliyah.”

  “Tell her what?”

  “About Rose.”

  He snickered out loud and huffed. “Yeah, okay, Connor. That’s how I want to start my wedding day.”

  “You don’t want to start a marriage with that kind of lie.”

  “If I tell her, there won’t be a marriage. She’ll hate me.”

  “Maybe, but if anything, she deserves to know the truth. Just think about it, all right?”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “Good. Now go take a shower. You smell like whiskey and ass. I’ll be back to grab you in a bit. We have to get a move on.”

  He headed off to take his shower, and I shook my head, glancing over at the thong lying across the floor. I supposed Jason had found his something blue for the day.

  When fifty minutes had passed and I’d gotten showered and dressed in my suit, I headed back to the guest room to retrieve Jason. The whole time I was bathing, I couldn’t stop thinking about Aaliyah and the shit situation she was about to be in by marrying an ass like Jason. She deserved better than him, and I had very little doubt he was going to tell her, which made me feel shitty because if he didn’t tell her, I had every intention of doing so.

  Did that mean I was breaking some kind of bro code? Maybe, but I couldn’t explain it. For some reason, deep down in my soul, I felt as if my loyalty was in Aaliyah’s corner and not Jason’s.

  “Jason, hurry up, will you? We got to get a move on,” I called out as I walked into his room, thinking he was still in the shower.

  When I didn’t hear a reply, I called out his name once more.

  Again and again.

  I darted over to the bathroom to find it empty, and I swore my stomach dropped. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed his number—no luck. I called his number once more.

  Again and again.

  As I searched the space, I noticed a note sitting on the nightstand.

  I can’t do it.

  I hardly even know this girl. What the fuck am I doing marrying her?

  Let everyone know.

  Tell Aaliyah I’m sorry.

  -Jason

  The letter crumpled in my tight grip and I sighed, knowing today would be the worst day of Aaliyah’s life.

  12

  Aaliyah

  “I don’t believe this,” I whispered, shock taking over my core. “I can’t believe this…”

  Oh God, this was the worst possible thing that could’ve ever happened. I couldn’t believe everything around me was crashing and burning on today of all days. I looked at my phone as tears formed in my eyes. I felt an overwhelming amount of sadness. I couldn’t even explain why.

  Feeling alone on your wedding day was never a great thing.

  I can’t breathe…

  I can’t breathe…

  “Why is this happening?” I asked Hannah as I stood in my dressing room, waiting for my bridesmaids to arrive. I wished I could say Hannah was a close friend, but I didn’t really know her all that well. She was the wedding planner Marie had hired and she was in charge of making sure I wouldn’t have the exact breakdown I was currently partaking in.

  I stood in front of the floor-length mirror wearing my wedding gown as tears flooded my eyes.

  Don’t do it, Aaliyah.

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry…

  “Oh my gosh!” I sobbed, covering my face with my hands.

  “Oh, honey, don’t do that! It’s all right,” Hannah told me.

  “How can I not cry? Look at me! I’m fat!” I sobbed, staring at my stomach. Who thought eating a whole basket of bread was a good idea the night before their wedding? Even more so, who thought getting a mermaid dress was a wise idea when one had hips like mine? Why had I done that to myself? Why did I love to self-sabotage?

  Jason was right. My ass was fat.

  “You’re not fat. You look marvelous,” Hannah promised in such a monotone way. It was clear she had given the “You’re not fat” talk to many brides in her lifetime. She reached for a tissue and started patting at my eyes. “Now stop crying, or we’ll have to keep touching up your makeup.”

  I sniffled a bit and stared at myself in the mirror as a few stubborn tears kept falling from my eyes. “Do you think this is the right dress, Hannah?”

  She snickered, placing her hands on my shoulders. “I think it’s a bit late to be asking that question.”

  I nodded. “I know, it’s just…”

  “Butterflies,” she cut in. “It’s wedding day butterflies. I’ve been doing this for over thirty years now, darling—”

  “Thirty years?” She must’ve been dying her hair that shade of red. There was no way she could have not one gray hair given the line of work she was in. Nothing makes a person go gray faster than a bridezilla.

  “Yes, thirty long years and while all the small details are fun, they don’t really matter much.”

  “They don’t?”

  “No. It’s not about the dress, or the reception, or the first dance. It’s not about the perfect photographer or a gorgeous bouquet. None of that matters. All that matters is you standing at the end of that long aisle with the love of your life and saying ‘I do.’ The only thing that matters is you two, there, at that moment, together, as you both start writing the opening chapter of your story.”

  I released the breath I hadn’t even known I was holding.

  She took my hand in hers and squeezed it lightly. “Okay?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  There was a knock on my door, and we both turned to see Connor standing there. He looked so handsome in his all-black tuxedo. I was glad he’d gone with all black. It was so charming and classy.

  “Connor, hey, you look great.” I sighed, relieved. “It’s so good to see you’re here, because that means Jason’s here, which means this is really h
appening, and I was crying for no reason and—” My words trailed off as I stared at Connor. His lips were doing something strange, something I’d never witnessed them do before.

  He was…frowning?

  “What is it?” I asked, alarmed. “Is everything okay? Is Jason all right?”

  He cleared his throat and slid his hands into his pockets. He looked at Hannah, and then back at me, that frown still resting uncomfortably against his lips. “Do you think we can speak privately?”

  “Oh no…” Hannah muttered quietly, shaking her head.

  I shot my stare toward her, even more alarmed than before. “What do you mean ‘oh no’? What’s going on?”

  Hannah gave me a broken smile and squeezed my hands. “I’ll give you two space to talk.” She left the room as if she knew what was about to happen, as if she knew how my world was about to be turned upside down.

  Once she was out of the room, Connor stepped closer to me. The closer he grew, the sicker I felt.

  I can’t breathe…

  I can’t breathe…

  “No,” I whispered, my body beginning to tremble. “I mean, this is ridiculous. He wouldn’t…I mean, he couldn’t…” I laughed, fully in denial, and the more I laughed, the more Connor grimaced. “Why are you here right now?”

  He lowered his head before raising it slowly and staring at me with those blue eyes. “I’m so sorry, Aaliyah.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Don’t be sorry, because there’s nothing to be sorry about. I mean, he loves me. We love each other. Today’s happening…it’s just nerves. I had nerves, so I’m sure he had nerves, which is fine. We are fine.” I swallowed hard. “Right, Connor…?”

  “He, um…” Each word that left Connor’s mouth was tainted with pain. Each word dripped with guilt as he said all that needed to be said for me to fully understand the situation at hand. “He left a note on the nightstand…”

  13

  Connor

  All the guests had dissipated, taking with them their gossip and judgmental commentary. All that was left in the church were Aaliyah and me. I was only still there to make sure everyone got the fuck out and left the poor woman alone.

  Her back was to me as she stood at the end of the aisle, staring at the arch filled with beautiful flowers. The train of her gown was spread out behind her, and her shoulders were rounded forward.

  “Aaliyah.” I spoke gently, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my suit. “Where is your wedding planner?”

  “I sent her away. I just couldn’t handle being around people. Marie tried to comfort me, but I told her to go off to make sure her son was okay.”

  “Oh.” Her body stood a bit straighter, yet she didn’t turn my way. “I can have my driver take you home. Or if there’s somewhere else you want to go…anywhere…anywhere you want to go, I’ll take you.” I took a breath, unsure what I should say next. There wasn’t anything I could say to make the current situation any better for her.

  Her head shook a bit, and she fiddled with her fingers. “Do you think he’s all right?” She turned my way. “It just doesn’t seem like him to run.”

  I took another step toward her but didn’t speak. She must’ve known a different Jason than I had. The Jason I knew was a runner, through and through. When things got hard, he dashed. When he had to put in a bit of actual work, he’d throw a fit and end up in Bora Bora for a mental break. He was the definition of unstable, yet Aaliyah didn’t see it that way for some reason. She seemed truly shocked by the events that had taken place. Me, on the other hand? The idea of me being shocked that he’d bolted seemed absurd.

  How had he tricked her into believing he was someone worthy of her time?

  “We were right for each other. I know we were. I felt it…” She shut her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “At least, I thought I felt it. I mean, I know he’s been stressed with work lately, and…”

  She was seconds from falling apart, and I didn’t blame her. She had every right to fall into a million pieces right then and there. I had to get her out of that place. Out of that dress. Out of her tragedy.

  “Aaliyah, we should go.”

  “He won’t answer my calls.” Her eyes were filled with water, but no tears fell. “Maybe there was an accident, and that’s why he hasn’t answered my calls. Maybe there was some kind of panic at the office, or maybe someone told him a lie about me. I heard people talking yesterday, but they were just making things up, Connor. I swear. But maybe he believed them. Maybe someone got in his head. Or maybe…” She took a breath. “Or maybe everyone was right. Maybe I was just another blip on his roadmap of women. Maybe I wasn’t anything special.” She choked on her next words. “Or maybe, maybe, maybe…”

  She covered her mouth with her hand as her body curved forward, and the tears began to flood her face. She sobbed into her hands, shaking uncontrollably as realization set in, the knowledge that on that day—the day of her happily ever after—she was left standing at the altar alone, with no love story to hold her upright.

  Well, fuck.

  This was awkward.

  I walked down the aisle to meet her.

  Step by step, I headed in her direction, moving toward her as quickly as I could, and when her knees began to buckle, I was right there to catch her. She wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight in her beautiful white dress that looked as if it had been made solely for her. She looked like a goddess who’d been struck down by lightning. Shit wasn’t fair. From what I could tell, Aaliyah seemed like a good person. This kind of crap shouldn’t happen to good people. Jason was an asshole for what he’d done.

  “Why wasn’t I enough?” she cried, repeating those words over and over again as the pain in her heart poured out of every part of her being.

  I didn’t know what to say or how to make her feel better, so I pulled her closer to me, holding her weary body against mine. I remained quiet and still as she lost herself within my arms. I wouldn’t try to fix her, because one can never fix what is broken. Sometimes you just have to stand in the wreckage and hope you can learn to live within the new shattered pieces.

  “You don’t have to stay with me,” she said as we sat on the ground in front of the altar. We’d been there for quite some time, at least an hour, yet I wasn’t going to leave her side until she was ready to walk away. The woman had just been stood up on her wedding day; the least I could do was sit with her.

  “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m sure you have better things you could be doing, more important things.”

  I didn’t say a word. It was clear she was feeling lost, abandoned, alone, and I knew if it were me, I’d hate to be by myself. So I refused to leave her there on her own. I saw it in her eyes each time she told me I could go, a small hope that I’d choose to stay. She just needed one person who wouldn’t walk out on her that afternoon. Therefore, I stayed.

  Her knees were bent and pulled into her chest as she hugged them, staring forward into the distance. “The reception would be starting right now,” she whispered. “There would be music, and dancing, and happiness…wine. Gosh, I could go for some wine. Couldn’t you go for some wine?” she asked, tilting her head in my direction. Her eyes were bloodshot, puffy, and covered in mascara.

  I didn’t reply.

  She hopped up. “I think I’ll go.”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “To the reception.”

  “What?”

  She nodded her head, obviously in a state of shock because she was talking insane. “Yeah, you know…just to check it out.”

  “What? No. That’s crazy.”

  “Yeah, it is. Can you drive me?”

  “Huh? No,” I flatly stated. “Of course I won’t drive you there.”

  “But earlier, you said you’d drive me anywhere I wanted to go. You swore you would.”

  Women and their impeccable memories.

  “I don’t think that’s a healthy choice…”

  “But it’s a choice,
and I’m sure you’re sick of sitting here, so we should go there.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “Connor.”

  “What?”

  I looked at her eyes and the roundness of her shoulders, and she gave me the most pathetic puppy-dog-Sarah-McLachlan-commercial-eyes. “Please?”

  For Christ’s sake.

  “Fine. Just go change out of your dress.”

  She gathered up her ridiculously long train in her arms and started full speed ahead. “Nope, no time. Let’s go.”

  14

  Aaliyah

  Everything was perfect, from the gold vase centerpieces filled with roses to the floodlights used to make the dance floor shine. The place settings were beyond stunning, and the dessert table held all of my favorite things.

  Brownies.

  Cookies.

  Lemon bars.

  A cake that took my breath away. Gold ribbons dancing across the tiers of fondant, the letters J and A written in the most beautiful frosting. One layer was red velvet another deep chocolate. His favorite flavor and mine…

  All of it was perfect, a reception built for a forever kind of love story, and all of the workers were tearing it down. How was I ever going to be okay after this?

  I stood frozen in the doorway as Connor stayed near me, staring as they all took the pieces away. My chest tightened as two individuals were about to recklessly place the fifty-pound masterpiece onto a cart with wobbly wheels. They’d probably push the cake into the back room, grab a fork, and dive in like animals.

  “Wait! No!” I shouted, rushing into the space with my long train following me. “Don’t touch that!”