by DL White
The room laughed, as did Preston.
"That's not to say that Nate and I did not have our share of guy time. In junior high, there were sleepovers and lunch at our lockers. In high school, there was the back of the room during biology lab when we were supposed to be dissecting frogs. When Nate was pre-med, and I was pre-law, and then he was a doctor, and I was an attorney, we always found time to hit the golf course for a round or two. Okay, nine holes and three hours of beers and imitation Cubans in the club house… but whatever."
Preston paused for another bout of laughter.
"I could say I never met two people more perfect for each other, more in love, more suited for happily ever after than these two... but I'd be lying."
Preston's pause was met with an eerie silence. Everyone, including me, held their breaths waiting for the next few words. I closed my eyes, silently uttering a prayer to a God that I was sure was not listening. "Please don't do this. Please, please, please."
"See, while Nate and Morgan were hanging out and being perfect for each other, getting a head start on that lifelong love affair, their two best friends discovered each other. And became best friends. And started hanging out. The only couple that rivaled Nate and Morgan in the "Oh My God They're So Cute Together” category was Preston and Angie. Look it up. I swear. It's in our yearbook."
Preston paused to let a chuckle ripple across the room. "Those times were good. The best of my life. When everything's perfect, until it's not."
Preston paused, staring into the air. I watched him swallow once, then twice, before he spoke again. "Until that one time, when I made a huge mistake. And I lost the love of my life. And regretted it ever since. Then, because I couldn't let her go, I spent the next decade or two, making sure she never forgot me. And not in the best way.”
"What the hell is he doing?' I whispered to Jackie. “He's supposed to be talking about Nate! This is not a Best Man's speech!”
"Shhhh, honey," she said, tapping me on the arm. "See where he's going."
“But see, the perfect couple that Nate and Morgan are... they want everyone to be happy, like them. Blissful and in love, like them. They knew what could be possible, if only we could pull our heads out of our asses. I know they think that all those years of encouragement haven't been heard. Good advice and prayers and even a little ass kicking now and then, a total waste of time.
"So, they gave up." Preston paused, nodding into the now silent room. “They finally said okay, do this one last thing for us, and then you never have to see each other again. Ladies and gentlemen, today you witnessed that one last thing. Two people who couldn't stand the sight, touch, smell, or sound of each other put together parties and banquets and dinners and brunches and one of the best weddings I've ever been to."
The room erupted in laughter. Even I laughed for a second.
“Today marks the beginning of something new for all of us. We just watched one half of this foursome dedicate their lives to one another in front of their friends and family. Nate, Morgan..."
Preston raised a glass of champagne aloft in a toast. "I salute you; I congratulate you; I celebrate your union today. May you have twice as many happy years as a married couple as you've had so far."
He sipped, leading everyone else to do the same, but quietly, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hoped he was done, but he widened his stance and opened his mouth again.
“What Nate and Morgan need to know is that the last decade hasn't gone to waste. We're not completely hopeless. Your plan— and might I add, it was a terrible plan— to force us to work together so that we'd get the hell over ourselves and realize that we still care about each other and that we still have a chance at a happily ever after…”
Preston smiled. There was so much satisfaction in that simple gesture. My heart dropped to the pit of my belly. He’s fucking doing this. And he’s happy about it.
“It worked."
Sharp gasps sounded from every corner of the room as all heads snapped around to look at me. A dull roar waved from right to left, front to back. Morgan squealed.
I was a deer in headlights, gripping my glass so tightly, it might shatter in my hands.
Preston glanced at me from up stage and, through a mildly drunken stupor, I'm sure he felt my rage from ten feet away. Appropriately, beads of sweat pop up across his forehead, which he swipes away with a thumb.
"I’m going to rip off this Band-Aid and say that Evangeline and I are back together. We wanted to keep it under wraps, but I couldn't wait one more second to tell everyone that this ridiculous idea you guys cooked up to push us back together worked. And the point of my whole spiel here is that…”
Preston shoved a hand in a pocket and, for the first time, seemed sheepish.
“If I make it off of this island alive, I will marry Evangeline Blake. And if Nate will be my Best Man, he can give a long, self-centered speech at my wedding about how he always knew we’d end up together, even if he had to force us back together. Until then, I love you, man. Congratulations to you and the Mrs.…finally.”
Preston stepped offstage amid applause and squeals of joy and hands grabbing at him— women to kiss his cheek and men to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand. In my fog, I barely noticed Jackie grabbing me into an awkward hug, pressing her hard, round belly up against me.
"I knew it!" She squeaked, practically jumping with her arms around me. "So, the wedding party brunch? Were you together then? You looked so happy!"
"Jackie..."
"And then the Bachelorette party! Remember I said you looked like—”
"Jacks!" I tried to pry her arms from around me, but pregnant women must be stronger than steel.
"I'm so excited for you guys! I never knew you together, but I always thought you would make such a cute couple! And I want to hear all about how you got back together, and I'm so pissed you didn't tell us! You could have told us; we're your best friends!"
I finally gave a sharp tug and pulled away, releasing myself from her iron grip. I stepped back, tossed my champagne glass on the nearest table, and stalked to the door.
"Air," I managed to choke out. "I need air."
28
I planted myself outside on a painted wooden bench. One leg flung over the other, arms folded over my chest, one foot furiously twitching.
I mean, so what if Preston revealed to our closest friends that we'd been hiding a reconciliation?
At our best friend’s wedding?
And, you know, so what if I had asked him to keep it quiet for three. measly. days?
The door to the reception hall swung open. By the noise level, the reception was still going strong. The rustle of heavy silk whispered in my direction.
God. Morgan should not be out here, consoling her best friend on her wedding night.
She sat down next to me, fluffing her dress around her, saying nothing for a few moments. When I didn't offer up any words either, she reached for my hand. The sight of our clasped jumble of fingers brought tears to my eyes.
"For the record," she started, squeezing my hand tightly. "It's obvious that he broke the news before you were ready and that's shitty. He is an asshole."
I shook my head and, despite my mood, laughed a little. "Now you believe me. When he’s embarrassed me in front of everyone?”
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Angie. We are all friends here. Family, after all this time.”
I sniffed, swiping errant tears that wouldn't stop falling. "I wanted you to have this whole day to yourself. I wanted today to be about you and Nate. Now anything anyone is talking about is how Angie and Preston are back together."
"Oh, girl. You two were a hot topic long before now."
"But we worked hard on this. I didn't want to take your spotlight. He knew that."
“There’s no spotlight. There’s a big dress and a party on an island with all of my friends. And even if you did steal our spotlight? Girl, so what? Aren't you happy to be back with Preston?”
I shrugged. "Up until about an hour ago. But I wasn't ready for everyone to know that yet.”
"Cat's out of the bag, now. You’re not relieved that you don’t have to keep that secret anymore?”
I chuckled. “You guys are so easy. It wasn't hard to hide."
“Easy?” She shouted a sharp bark into the air. “Please, Evangeline. You two did a shitty job of hiding."
My throat closed up and my heart, which had already sunk to the pit of my belly, sank even further.
“What—what do you mean?”
“Oh, Angie. You delusional fool,” she said, laughing loudly, wagging a french tipped finger in my face. "I knew it. All along.”
“You did not! How?"
“It’s so obvious! It’s written all over your face, dumb ass.”
“Whatever. That's stupid."
“Okay, Miss Freshly-Fucked Face. I don’t know how your parents didn’t know you two were fucking. I could always tell. It took me a while to recognize that look, but around..."
She paused, furrowed her brow in thought for a second, then continued. "My Bachelorette party… yeah. I knew I’d seen that look of sexual satisfaction before. Jackie called you out on it, remember?"
“Pregnant people must be fucking clairvoyant,” I spit out.
“Or you can't help that look on your face. The one that's still there, even though you're pissed at him."
"So, Lover's Lagoon? And the champagne?"
Morgan nodded, a proud smile on her lips. “So you and Preston could have some time together in a special place, away from prying eyes and nosy pregnant people. This event is as much about you and him as it is about Nate and me."
She squeezed my hand in hers and drew our hands to her chest. "We wouldn't have wanted to share this week with anyone else. Foursome for life, right?"
I squeezed back. "If Preston makes it off of this island. It might really turn out to be Wedding WrestleMania."
Morgan laughed. "That was lowdown. I love that you're together, but my best friend is crying, and I’m not having it. I want him to fix it."
"Give me a chance. I'll see what I can do."
I twisted around to see him leaning against the red brick wall, jacket off, collar unbuttoned, tie loosened. He looked tired, but his eyes were clear and bright. Morgan patted my hand before letting go, then, without a word, got up and picked her way back down the path to the hall.
"How deep in shit am I?" He asked, taking Morgan’s spot.
"Pretty deep."
"Do I even get a chance to explain?"
"Explain what? How we had more than one conversation, and I asked you to wait until after this was over, and you said–"
"You said wait until after the wedding. Wedding’s over."
I dropped to prop my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. It was the only way to regulate the anger that roiled up again.
"Are you always so goddamn literal, or only when it suits you? After this trip. That's what we talked about before!"
"Well, sorry. I took what you said and ran with it–"
"You took what you wanted to hear and ran with it."
"Okay.” He shrugged. “Now it's out there, and we don't have to worry about when to tell them. They know already. They’ve known already.”
I sat up, inhaled deeply, closed my eyes. This conversation was not working to soothe anything in my mind. I was angrier by the second.
"You don't have to worry about it, Preston. Your boys will smoke a cigar with you and toast to you finally bagging that pussy you’ve been chasing. Women are different. Women are nosy and catty and judgmental. You have no idea what you've done to me."
“Maybe women are that way, but your friends aren’t. I just heard Morgan tell you that she’s happy for you. Fuck, they’re all happy for you, so give them a little credit, Angie. Don’t let whatever nightmares you have about how this is going to play out ruin this for us.”
I stood up, kicking up the hem of my dress behind me. "I need to get out of here. I need to get away from you."
I heard Preston huff a grunt of frustration as I marched up the path toward the hotel. "Angie, please don’t run away."
I stopped long enough to hurl a barb over my shoulder. "The only thing I am running away from is a self-serving asshole."
"I'm an asshole because I want our friends to know we're happy?"
"Do I seem happy, Preston?"
“Not right now, no. But if you calm down and stop being fake mad–"
“Fake mad?” I stopped and turned on my heel, causing Preston, who had been following me down the path, to collide into me. “I am explosively angry with you right now.”
“Is this stay mad at Preston for twenty years pissed, or will it blow over?”
"I hate you so much right now."
"I'm not all that fond of you, right this second. But I want to talk about it, work it out. We were going to tell them anyway—”
"When I was ready! Not in the middle of their wedding reception, with some me, me, me, all about me, Best Man speech. Is that the speech you wrote? Were you planning this all along?"
"No. I was drunk and happy. Look, Angie..." Preston's steps quickened as he tried to keep up with me. "I know you wanted to wait. And maybe your girls will give you some shit and I'm sorry about that, but we deserve it. We needed to come clean.”
"You hear yourself?" I shot over my shoulder, marching steadily toward our building, and thank God because my feet were killing me with every step. "We? I didn't agree with any of that. You ambushed me in front of all our friends and Nate and Morgan's family. At their wedding, you thoughtless, selfish asshole!"
I stomped into our building, slammed the ‘up' button on the elevator, and stepped inside as soon as the doors opened. I pressed the button to close the doors and, with pleasure, watched them close in his face. He would have to take the other elevator.
I made it to my room, swiped the key and tried to shut Preston out before he made it to my room, but he caught the door before it could slam shut.
29
"If I knew it would make you this upset, I honestly wouldn't have done it,” Preston says, now pacing in front of me. I’m trying hard to ignore him. “I’m sorry."
"You're not sorry," I mumble, staring at the view. "You're happy. I wish I could join you in your bliss, but I can't."
"I don't get it," he says. I hear him settle onto the bed, then toe off his shoes. They drop to the floor one by one. Clunk. Clunk. "Explain to me why I'm the worst person on the planet right now."
"Maybe I didn't want to spend all week being the center of attention. Now everyone will be watching our every move. Oooh, they're holding hands! Ahhhh, they're kissing!" I clap my hands, slowly and sarcastically.“Good show, guys."
“Like they’re not already watching us. That would be better than the show we've put on all week. Sneaking around, ducking questions–"
I spin to face Preston, perched on a corner of the bed in his suit pants, shirt, and socks. “You want me to sit around and regale everyone with the story of this love affair that’s been twenty years in the making because Angie spent all those years being mad at something stupid. Because Angie has a hard time admitting that she's been wrong this entire time. Because Angie can’t come to grips with how much time she’s wasted not being with a man she has loved since she was seven years old."
The room is silent except for my occasional sniffle. Somewhere in the middle of my speech, my chin began to tremble, and the tears spilled over. Because that's what it boils down to, for me. All of our friends, at least the ones on this island, will know that it was my fault that they had to play referee between Preston and me.
It was my fault that our best friends got so sick of our shit that they forced us back together.
"I didn't know that it ran that deep for you," Preston says, breaking the silence.
Quietly, I wipe the tears from my cheek. Preston rises from the bed, then walks around it, grabbing a box of tissues from the bed
side table. Cautiously, he approaches me with it, leading with the box. I snatch it from him, and he rears back, then bends at the knee, bobbing and weaving as if he’s in a boxing ring.
"You want to hit me? Take a swing."
I snap two or three tissues from the box and toss it onto the couch. I wipe my face and try not to smile. "Shut up, you ass. I'm not going to hit you."
Preston pauses, then stands straight up. "Okay. Then it's not as bad as I thought."
"But it is bad.”
“It's very serious." He reaches for my hand, and without thinking, I offer mine and let him pull me toward the bed. We sit side by side. "You think people blame you for us not being together?"
"I know they do. Morgan has said as much to my face.”
"They don't know the whole story, do they? No one does, except me, you, and the big guy upstairs. And it can stay that way because I'm not interested in impressing these people. The person I want to impress is sitting next to me."
I sniffle and swipe the Kleenex under my nose.
"I think people blame me," says Preston. "You’ve been living your life and minding your own business, making something of yourself. Here I come around every corner. Ready to pick a fight. I love to get on your nerves. You know that, right?"
“I had picked that up.”
"I loved pulling discrimination cases. I'd work my ass off to beat you because it felt good. I was constantly showing you up. I needed you to see that I was good without you."
I fiddle with the Kleenex, watching the shreds fall onto the plum dyed dress. I smooth the pieces of cotton away and brush wrinkles from the fabric. I want to stay angry and hurt and upset.
"You remember the night of Nate and Morgan's engagement party, when I said that Nate and I had a long talk? I told Nate about that kiss at my house. And about how I was in love with you."
“Preston…” The breath that I push out seems to come from the bottom of my lungs. “Why didn’t you say that? They’ve all known the whole time.”
“Talking to Nate about you wasn’t anything new. I talked to him about you all the time. And because keeping it quiet wasn’t about them, Evangeline. It was about you.”