Advice from a Jilted Bride

by Rayne, Piper

  “This is Wyatt…” Dori says to the room then leans into me. “Sorry, I never caught your last name.”

  “Wh… Sorry. Wyatt Moore.”

  I almost slip because my first name rarely goes without my last name attached to it when I introduce myself. My dad used to scold Haylee and me when we were younger for not including our last name whenever we had to introduce ourselves. He said to always have your chin up and your shoulders back when you said it—let them know you’re someone important.

  “He was a dear and helped me up the stairs.” Dori doesn’t let go of me, walking me over to the piles of pizza boxes on the kitchen table.

  Everyone else still stares on, assessing the situation.

  “Why don’t we give Wyatt a big Bailey welcome?” Dori says.

  They all snap out of their trances.

  “Hey, I’m Holly,” an auburn-haired woman is first to walk up to me, followed quickly by one of the guys coming up behind her and placing one hand on her hip and the other in between us.

  “I’m Austin.”

  I shake his hand.

  Then it feels like I’m in a wedding reception line.

  “Kingston.”

  Shake.

  “Denver.”

  Shake.

  Wait, wasn’t that Rome? With a line between my brows, I search the room and the guy in front of me, laughs.

  “Twins,” he says.

  I nod, remembering.

  “Juno as you know.” She does a cute curtsy.

  “Savannah, we met earlier.” The blonde’s handshake is firmer than my own.

  “Phoenix.”

  “Sedona.”

  When I shake both their hands, they stand side by side.

  “Twins,” they fill me in, in case I’m an idiot.

  “And lastly, Brookie.” Dori finally releases me and wraps her arms around her granddaughter’s shoulders.

  “A man with matching coffee mugs is a man no one loves,” Dori says, eliciting an eye roll from each family member close enough to hear.

  “I know. I know.” Brooklyn hugs her grandma.

  She’s surprisingly upbeat for a woman who’s had the unthinkable thrust upon her today.

  “What are you talking about Grandma?” Savannah asks, pouring wine into her glass, sitting down and cutting up her pizza with a plastic fork and knife. God, she reminds me of my sister.

  One of the brothers, I think Kingston, he looks younger than the rest, hands her a beer and holds one out for me. “You’re going to need this if you’re staying,” he says, bearing no smile.

  “Thanks,” I accept.

  He nods, grabs a slice of pizza and heads over to the couch where the girl set of twins are on their phones.

  “Coffee mugs are an easy gift. Cute sayings, words of love, puny references. I think the first gift I ever got from your dad was an ‘I love my Mommy’ mug. It still sits in my cupboard. A coffee mug says what people think of you.” Dori tips the beer back and I’m impressed by how large a pull she takes.

  Brooklyn smiles with a slight roll of her eyes.

  “What is it with this family and coffee mugs?” Austin calls out and Holly lightly smacks him in the stomach.

  All eyes shoot to Savannah who stands up, taking her pizza and beer over to the couch area.

  “So, I’ve asked Wyatt here to keep an eye on you, sweetie.” Dori’s hand grips my upper arm. Her tone isn’t forceful, but now I’ll really feel like a dick if I don’t look out for her granddaughter.

  Wonderful. Six months of helping her lug groceries up the steps and trying to fix stuff in her apartment. She should know I’m not a repairman.

  “Oh, Grandma.” Brooklyn looks to me. “I’m good. Swear.”

  “Well, if you need anything, just knock.” I look at my watch. “I should get going.”

  “Nonsense,” Dori says, scoffing like it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard.

  “Really. I just got into town today and I’m beat.” I quickly finish off my beer and drop the empty bottle on the table.

  “Well, thanks for the help. You’d think my grandbabies could help an old lady out.”

  “Hello?” Rome says, raising his arms in the air.

  Everyone laughs.

  “Anytime. Nice meeting you all.” I smile and wave, backtracking to the door.

  “Welcome to Lake Starlight,” Holly says, a huge smile on her face.

  “Oh, look at the newbie.” Denver ruffles her hair.

  “I bet you’ve been dying to tell someone that,” Austin says, staring down at Holly like Cupid just shot him.

  Holly blushes and Austin looks over to me. “She’s the newest resident in Lake Starlight, but we do welcome you.”

  “Thanks. I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.” I raise my hand in a wave.

  “Lucky’s is the place to go. Some of us get really lucky there,” Denver says, waggling his eyebrows.

  Rome can’t hold in his laughter and beer sprays across the room.

  Obviously, an inside joke.

  “ROME!” Juno screams, touching the back of her hair.

  Hey, I really am getting these names straight. Go Whitmore.

  As the room shifts back into chaos, I slide out, shutting the door behind me as quietly as I can.

  Shit, I can’t even imagine being a part of that family.

  I dig into the pocket of my jeans for my keys, but before I can escape into my apartment, Brooklyn’s door opens.

  Looking over my shoulder, my heart beats a tad faster when I see her standing there.

  “Should I run for cover?”

  Her shoulders fall and so does her smile. Padding across the floor in her socks she stops right in front of me, making eye contact. I don’t even make eye contact like this while I’m screwing someone. Only ever when I’m closing a deal which isn’t very often since my dad is making me earn my stripes.

  She touches my arm. “I just wanted to say. I’m sorry.” I watch from the corner of my eye as she raises her hand and runs her finger over the cut. “I hope it doesn’t leave a scar.”

  I hate to sound like a broken record, but she really is so damn beautiful. Not at all like the type of women I usually find attractive.

  I’ve always found it ironic the way my parents raised us to have core values—to earn our money, cherish family, treat everyone with respect—then sent us to snooty private schools, had family Sunday dinners at the club and mingled with the richest of the rich in Manhattan.

  Needless to say, the women I’m used to would never touch my forehead in a caring manner if they didn’t know me. Brooklyn knows nothing about me. Hell, she doesn’t even know my real name.

  “I’m sure it won’t.” I’m stiff as a board as she continues to run her finger lightly beside the raised cut.

  “Well, I never meant to hit you. It was just a bad day.” She frowns and her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

  Just a bad day?

  I want to scream at her that she got fucked over and it’s okay to be pissed beyond belief.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry about…that can’t be easy.”

  She nods, her mind not on my cut anymore as she lowers her hand and entwines them together in front of her.

  “I’ll be gone for two weeks. I’ve decided to take my honeymoon.”

  “Good for you.”

  She nods. “But don’t listen to my grandma. You don’t need to do anything special for me. She just likes to pry into everyone’s lives. But when I get back if you need anything, let me know. I’ve lived in Lake Starlight my entire life so, treat me like Google.” The cutest laugh falls out of her and she shakes her head. “Anything, just shout.”

  “Thanks. That’s a two-way street.”

  She smiles, stepping backward but still looking at me. “Have a good night, Wyatt.” Her hand lands on her doorknob.

  “You, too.” I turn the key for my apartment.

  She opens the door to her apartment initiating a scattering of hoots and hollers from the B
aileys inside her apartment.

  “Seriously! You all need your own lives!” Brooklyn screams, shutting the door.

  I step in and shut my door, finding the quiet enveloping now calming. As I head down the hall to unpack my clothes, I can’t help but wonder what kind of dickhead you have to be to stand up a woman like that at the altar. Even if I’m not the marrying kind, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that any guy would be lucky to call Brooklyn Bailey his wife.

  Five

  Brooklyn

  “Here you go.” Savannah takes my suitcase out of the back of her SUV. “You sure you don’t want me to park and come in?”

  She’s wearing her mothering expression today.

  “No. You can’t get past security anyway. I’ll message you when I land.”

  “I can if Duke is working.” She gives me a smug smile, referring to the time she and Grandma Dori surprised Austin at the airport to get him to pull his head out of his ass about Holly.

  “I’m fine,” I insist.

  She nods and inhales a deep breath. “Okay.” Stepping forward, I swallow back the tears that want to burst out.

  After a night of pizza, drinks and laughing with my family, I woke up realizing it really did happen. I was one of those brides I’ve read about but never thought I’d be. I’m destined to be Brooklyn Bailey, the Bailey who got left at the altar. If it wasn’t for Savannah this morning, I might’ve shut myself in the apartment and hid under my covers for eternity.

  “You’re going to have so much fun. I stuffed a book in your carry-on. Just relax and enjoy.” Her hands grip my upper arms. “Be safe though. Don’t trust everyone you come across. I don’t want to have to fly down to Hawaii searching for you.”

  “I’m twenty-six.”

  Even though Savannah’s three years older than me, sometimes it feels like she’s decades older since she had to step up when our parents died. I guess responsibility has a way of changing the dynamics.

  “I know. I know.” She releases my arms, only to hug me tight to her body. “You sure you don’t want someone to go with you? I’m sure Rome would rush over here if you say yes.”

  I giggle and shake my head in the crook of her neck. “I’ll be good. I need the alone time to figure out what’s next.”

  She pulls back and shuts the back of her SUV. “Okay, well, text me before you leave Hawaii and one of us will pick you up when you get back.”

  She smiles and climbs into her SUV. I watch her drive away like she’s my life vest in the middle of a vast ocean. When I walk through the sliding doors into the departure terminal, the airport is a zoo. It’s peak vacation season.

  Using the new kiosk system, I pull up my confirmation and scan my confirmation on my phone, but the screen keeps telling me to see an attendant. I blow out a breath and grab my suitcase and carry-on to go stand in the long-ass line.

  Obviously, this line is used for everyone who has ticket problems because it moves as fast as Grandma Dori did down the stairs in my apartment building last night. I think she was hoping Wyatt would come help her.

  He does seem like a nice guy though.

  After he left last night we all speculated on what brought him to Lake Starlight since no one asked him, which is so not like us.

  I inch forward in the line, smiling at the little boy in front of me.

  I was hoping to have one of you in a couple of years.

  Now I’ll be starting over. The entire process of meeting someone, dating them… I can’t even continue the thought, it sounds exhausting.

  I don’t even know how to be single. I’ve been with Jeff ever since college. He was the one who got me out of the depression that hit hard after my parents died. The one I trusted who said he wouldn’t hurt me. Well, look at me now, Jeff. Can someone really change that much in such a short amount of time or was I just blind?

  “Next,” the woman at the counter says, waving me over.

  I rush over, eager to get this show on the road before I chicken out.

  “Hi. I tried to scan my confirmation and it said to see an attendant.”

  She smiles and takes my phone, typing away on her keyboard. “Maui?” she asks.

  “Yes.” I place my hands on the counter, staring over at her, anxiously tapping my foot.

  Her lips go from a professional smile and turn downward. “This ticket has been canceled.”

  My body tenses. “Well, I don’t know how that would have happened.”

  “Oh wait.” She types some more, her eyes on the screen.

  Good. It was just a mistake, she’s figured it out. I let out a relieved breath.

  “Oh.” She slides the phone back over to me. “Did you purchase these tickets?”

  I close my eyes, understanding the problem. “Well, my fian…my ex did, but this ticket is in my name.”

  Her demeanor and attitude soften and a pitying look creeps into her eyes. Those damn eyes. The whole reason I’m going on this honeymoon is to escape the exact look she’s giving me right now. “The purchaser canceled the ticket,” she says in a low voice.

  My head snaps back like she slapped me. “What? That’s impossible.”

  She looks at the screen to make sure she has it right. “Jeffrey Brickle?”

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  Her gaze shifts to the right to the corridor that leads to security. “Since he purchased the ticket, he can cancel the ticket. But…” She looks down the line of desks with her co-workers helping other people and leans in closer to me. “I’m sorry, he told us how you left him at the altar…”

  “What?”

  The guy working next to her, side-glances me. Obviously, he’s familiar with Jeff as well. The man he’s helping scurries away with his ticket in hand. The airline employee puts up a closed sign in front of his area and steps over beside the woman assisting me.

  “Ma’am, it’s none of our business. All we can really tell you is that your ticket was canceled.” The look on his face says he believes the tale dipshit spun.

  The woman’s eyes veer down the corridor once again.

  I follow her gaze, but all that’s there is a sea of people heading to security point.

  “The ticket was in my name!” The tears are welling, my nose is tickling. At any moment, I’m going to lose it.

  “Yes, but he paid for it,” she says.

  I grab my phone and put it in my pocket. “So, what do I do? Buy another ticket?”

  “I’m sorry, but the flight is full,” the man says.

  I’m tempted to believe he’s lying to me because he thinks I’m the one who walked out on my wedding.

  “Fine. I’ll take my business somewhere else.” I grab my bags my head, turning around to find the long line of people waiting in the queue staring at me. I circle back around. “Just so you know. He left me, asshole. In a text message.”

  The man’s face pales.

  “I believe his exact words were, ‘I just can’t do it. Sorry Brooklyn.’”

  “I knew it!” the woman says, jabbing her elbow into the man’s ribs. “He’s heading through security now. With the woman he used the other ticket for.” She shoots me a sympathetic look.

  “What?” I whisper.

  Clearly, I didn’t hear her correctly. There were no signs of Jeff cheating on me. I scoured the apartment like a drug dog.

  She nods.

  The color hasn’t returned to the other guy’s face. If I felt nice, I’d apologize and tell him not to feel bad, Jeff Brickle fooled me, too. But for once, I’m not feeling nice.

  “He canceled yours and re-bought the ticket in another woman’s name. The two of them are going on your honeymoon.” She points again. “If you hurry, you’ll catch him.”

  I stare blankly at her.

  Why would I even want to catch him?

  As the reality of what the woman behind the counter told me sinks in, I grip my suitcases tight and run down the corridor. I weave between families and accidentally spill a man’s coffee. Apologies fly out
of my mouth once I’m strides away because my eyes are glued to the big security checkpoint sign.

  I heave, trying to gain oxygen in my lungs, and look up right as Jeff is about to step through security.

  “JEFF!” I scream.

  He looks back, his eyes widening.

  “Brooklyn.” The love I thought filled the syllables in my name when they came off his tongue are no longer there.

  Abandoning my luggage, I zig-zag through the ropes, past passengers staring at me with intrigue and shock.

  “I want answers!”

  “Sir,” the security personnel says at the same time an arm stretches to stop me from going forward.

  A small brunette peeks her head out through the other end of security. I don’t recognize her, but she obviously knows me.

  “Just tell me,” I say to Jeff. I look to the woman security officer keeping me from approaching any closer. “He left me at the altar yesterday,” I explain to her.

  Everyone within earshot gasps.

  “I told you. I’m just not happy,” Jeff says.

  “And she makes you happy?” I point to the brunette and he glances back to her then back to me.

  “Don’t do this to yourself.” He shakes his head like I’m a petulant child.

  “Seriously, that’s all you’ve got? You did this to me! You asked me to marry you! You made me plan some big, elaborate wedding and you sent me a text message five minutes before our wedding ceremony was supposed to start!” I point my finger at him, my body bending forward as far as the security woman will let me go.

  He abandons his spot and I catch a more professional looking guard coming from down the hall. He’s obviously been notified of the disturbance I’ve caused.

  “I’m sorry. I should have said something earlier.”

  “And now you’re taking her on our honeymoon?” My throat clogs with emotion.

  “I figured you wouldn’t want to go.”

  As I stand there wanting answers, I realize there’s one simple reason for all this. It’s me. Plain and simple.