by Elena Monroe
A woman with raven hair and a hard body in an apron stood up where the priest had been, ready to make an announcement.
“If everyone can make their way to the dining hall, drinks will be served.”
Everyone stampeded to the room down the hall, clearly starving for either the alcohol or food that was up next on the itinerary. I waited for the crowd to move on and grabbed Layla by the wrist, holding her back from getting caught up in all the movement or wedding party duties. I pulled her close, and her arms wrapped around me automatically. She smelled like the ocean and coffee beans. It was the scent I missed all five years.
“I’m not mad I was forced to that goofy-ass bachelor party anymore.”
“So glad you made it. A text would have been lovely.”
I knew my silent treatment would drag up bad memories—ones of me in college, ignoring her for a stretch of days, trying to wean myself off of her and failing. I was fully addicted to her now, no weaning necessary, making my excuse weak.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t text. I was running an errand and got in with my dad, but I’m here now. Survived a bachelor party and everything.”
She looked up at me, still clinging onto me. “Find common ground with Leon?”
I laughed, knowing blow was our common ground, but I was referring to the ring I found in a shop window.
“Something like that.”
Hayley was just a few feet away, scanning the crowd and pissed off, per usual.
“What’s wrong with you?” I tossed the sentence her way and waited for a bite back.
“Palmer is late.”
“Palmer is back?” My excitement was apparent until her eyes locked onto mine, and I felt the chill of her anger. Palmer being back wasn’t a positive. I forgot about her high/low confession and that her assumption of the girl in all of Palmer’s photos was unwarranted. I probably would conclude the same thing if it was Layla.
Jealousy was a cold-hearted bitch.
Layla looked up at me, still manipulating our bodies into swaying slightly. “I have to go take more photos and make sure dinner is on track before the reception.”
I knew she had a lot on her plate, and figuring out when, during the circus, to propose was proving to be the hardest part. Everyone wanted perfect timing. All I wanted was a yes.
She pecked my lips at first, before a quick re-do, lasting longer the second time, before dashing off to take photos to commemorate the event.
I walked towards the bar, feeling every nerve grow and expand in various parts of my body. First, my hands became moist; next, my heart rate was jumping; and now, my throat was feeling drier than ever before. My whole body was begging me to get it over with.
Hunter and Addi were at the bar already, and I wondered why she wasn’t with the rest of the wedding party taking photos. Her entire expression screamed uncomfortable, and I couldn’t assess if that was before I came over or only after I did. Either way, she wasn’t stopping me from controlling my nerves the only way I could while maintaining my sobriety.
I leaned into the bar top. “Scotch. Neat.”
My dad came over to me, handing me a plate of assorted appetizers, just as Arson crashed into my legs. I picked him up on my hip leaving my glass of brown liquor alone for now.
“Hey, bud. I saw you up there. Killed it.”
He slapped my hand in the most powerful high five I had ever felt. Pleased with himself, he tugged at the bow tie, and I twisted for my dad to help me undo it for him. It was the reception; he didn’t need to be dapper anymore.
“Where’s the nanny?” My voice was full of concern and worry when I realized none of this was planned, and he was originally supposed to be home, safely and securely.
My dad shrugged, not knowing any more than I did, and that didn’t help my nerves, only making them worse by adding a whole other type of stress. My dad purposely walked closer to Hunter and Addi, leaning into the space between them, before ordering his drink, same as me. Guess he was a part of me, and I never realized it. I wanted him to love me how I wanted before I staked any claim to similarities. Really, I didn’t need him to love me how I wanted; I just needed to know he loved me at all.
I watched him take the glass with the same kind of stiffness I was used to from him. This time, I wasn’t buried deep in vengeances or anger. I was watching his cruelty for all it was worth pointed at someone else, while he stood back up, still sandwiched between their confusion.
“We don’t know each other. I’m Oliver’s dad, Richard.”
He pushed his hand out towards Addi, and she sampled her one million watt smile for him, instead of replying with words. She always let her looks talk for her. My dad let his anger talk, no yell, for him. She wasn’t going to win whatever challenge he was pushing onto the bar top, unless her looks were made of iron-clad bronze.
“Gregory Davies… is a close friend,” he said it with a spark in eyes, like she’d know exactly who that was. I didn’t know who they were talking about, but whoever it was had Addileigh’s fake tan turning a blushing color. I watched Richard expertly navigate the fine lines of anger—stern and villainous. I was almost in awe, watching him, when my emotions weren’t being toyed with and his heavy rings weren’t colliding with my sensitive skin.
Addi shifted on the barstool, and Hunter closed her in more, protecting her. Guess he found another girl to protect, but this one wasn’t so innocent. Richard pulled out his phone and dropped it on the countertop, letting her eyes frantically look at whatever he was showing her.
“What the fuck is your problem? He’s grown. He can fight his own battles. No one told him cheat on his wife.”
Hunter always said too much. He never knew when to stop. His damn pride and need to win always made him a sore loser. Now, I was caught up. It was hard to keep my facial expression firmly on bored, when my dad was going to bat for me, after making up for the second time.
Richard playfully slapped Hunter’s face like a grandpa would pairing it with “good boy” or “old chap”. My dad no longer straddled the lines between emotions; he was all action now.
It used to take a lot of back talking and fucking up to push him there. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t deserve every firm slap; hell, I even deserved the playful ones without the endearing phrases attached. I kept my parents up at night, overdosed in a frat house, knocked up Jade… and that was all in college. Now picture high school. Exactly. I wasn’t the easiest kid to raise. Sometimes his love looked like hate, but I learned how close love and hate truly were.
“Sit down. This doesn’t involve you. Don’t let me find out how you raped Oliver’s girlfriend in high school. That kind of shit can really follow you for life.”
Hunter’s fists were balled up, and his body was tense instead of the manic laughter I received in the alleyway behind Intuition. That Hunter begged for me to beat all the desire and hope out of him. This Hunter was practicing a control I had never seen before; it reeked of Layla.
A firm tap on my shoulder and my last name drew all my focus away from Richard pressing Addi into coming clean.
“Mr. Abbott? Sorry I’m late; traffic was terrible.”
I turned around, finding the subtle features connected to the small voice I knew as the college student I had hired to be Arson’s nanny. She was the girl next door, all American, probably Christian. She looked like the type of girl who needed a book of rules to get through the day.
“I thought we arranged for you to get him before the wedding…” I didn’t want to sound demanding or rude. She was a necessary evil in my life—one I couldn’t afford to lose over one poor interaction.
Arson hugged her tightly, like he had actually missed her, but didn’t know how to communicate that just yet.
“Layla texted me and told me I wouldn’t be needed until 8 P.M., after the wedding, sir.”
Her guilty look quickly morphed into worry and some kind of scare. She didn’t know Layla was about to be my fiancé, and I couldn’t really argue with anyth
ing she said. I was giving her the right to make decisions when I gave her my heart. Arson rubbed his eyes, still tugging at his stiff button-down shirt. I could tell even without a yawn that my son was ready to fall asleep in his toddler car seat in the back of her reliable Buick on the way back to Amherst.
Kneeling down, I held out my arms and watched him lazily slide his feet along the carpet, making his way into my arms. He slung his small arms around my neck. I kissed his head and whispered into his fine hair how much I loved him, and with that, she hustled him to the car, before he passed out in my arms.
Once Arson was out of sight, I turned my focus back to my dad, who was no longer talking to Addi or Hunter. In fact, everyone had scattered to their tables. I was the only one left standing by the bar when the DJ announced everyone in the wedding party in the same order they walked down the aisle in. I waited to see Layla come out with Caden, while standing with my untouched scotch. The ring box in my pocket was suddenly feeling like a bolder. I didn’t bother finding my seat. There was no way I was going to be eating anything before I popped the question. Everything was already an earthquake under my skin.
Once the wedding party was announced, I took the empty seat next to Layla at the head table. I wrapped my arms around her under the table, out of sight, and pulled her close to me, slamming her back into my chest.
“You look so damn beautiful.”
I didn’t have to look at her directly to know she was smiling in the exact way I intended her to.
“You were cutting it close.”
“Very important errand.”
She twisted in my arms as we blocked out all the noise and people, as her forehead rested against my chest. It seemed like it was out of exhaustion, but any reason to be close to her was good enough.
Liz handed me a key card, while I stroked Layla’s hair that she had unpinned, letting the kinks and waves fall freely around her exposed shoulders. I looked at Liz questioning the card, while I held it up, asking in my silent ways.
“Surprise. Little wedding party gift. We got everyone rooms here at the hotel so you can get as wasted as you want to!” She paused, taking a sip of her water, “Please, do it for me, since I can’t.”
I tucked the card into my pocket and lifted my glass up towards her.
Hayley was the first to gently tap her glass with her knife, gaining everyone’s attention without much effort. This is where the heavier emotions lived during weddings. Most people anticipated this part: the speeches.
Once the speeches were over, I took Layla’s hand and led her outside into the cold. The garden was the opposite of cold; even in the dead of night, it still seemed warm and inviting. There were rows of perfectly manicured bushes, endless flowers grasping at life while trying to bloom, and the hotel was more like an old castle, creating a certain magic that seemed unreal. Everything about the last five years, all our relationships, and even tonight, seemed unreal. I contemplated that I might be dreaming, just like Gatsby, but I had already bit the inside of my cheek and regretted it as soon as the pain felt real.
I was awake.
Nothing was easy to understand, especially Layla and me.
She looked up at the sky with wonderment, while rubbing her own arms. She was in a floor length dress with cold shoulders while the temperature was barley in the 50’s. I shrugged off my jacket, giving it to her to pull on over her dress. It was slightly big on her. When she tugged at the edges to wrap it around herself, she felt the lump of the jewelry box and looked at me quizzically.
I watched her delicate hands and started to panic, when I realized she was patting the jacket, trying to figure out the jewelry box lump. I came to a quick conclusion, driven by the panic to get this right, to just let her find the ring box. I waited for her to fish it out after I nodded my head, letting her know it was okay.
That was the thing about Layla. She needed to always get there on her own; no matter how much you wanted to help or love her, she wanted to show you she could. And she did, every time.
I watched her eyes get wide, and her lips parted in pure shock. I caught her off guard for once. The same way she caught me off guard, like the type of high you don’t expect, the kind laced with uppers and downers, just like our relationship. She was the kind of high I didn’t have to feel guilty about—the kind that I never came down from, the high I chased all my life.
I waited until she held the small velvet black box in her hands, and everything in me pulsed, making me aware of how right the timing was after all.
“Marry me, Layla.”
I was hoping for a yes. But, hell, I wasn’t even asking; I was telling in the most polite way I was capable of: with one of my rare smiles. No smirks were in sight, because I knew the yes was coming. I loved the tortuous wait for her.
“Yes, Oliver Abbott, I will marry you.”
I cupped her cheeks, making sure she could see my eyes and all the vulnerability hiding in them. She was looking at me the same way she did when I first met her: intrigue, innocence, acceptance… The way I wanted to be looked at my whole life. I let my forehead touch hers before my lips pressed against hers in our own private celebration, “All the way to the grave, Layla.”
Hunter & Addileigh
2 weeks after the wedding
I groaned against the broken-in leather couch that sat against the wall of the coffeeshop that seemingly had my back more than people. Intuition was my escape, my office, my desk, my sustenance, and my reality show when the Sinners occupied the same space. The coffeeshop saw it all, and just like my car, Camille, it held onto my heart strings with a firmer grasp than fucking people.
Addi was trying to, unofficially and loosely, worm her way into a business trip I had to take to Los Angeles. Her little actress heart was dying to go to Tinsel Town and experience her dream before they started.
She was a master at convincing me to do pretty much anything. Her venomous lips were all the convincing I ever needed. That pout could crumble empires, kill kings, and make you a believer in love.
“Pretty please, Hunter! What kind of—” she cut her loud voice off when I scanned the room for anyone possibly listening. There was no controlling this girl. She’d tell the world I sold drugs and flip them off right after if they had a problem. I didn’t need that kind of attention, even if her intentions were good. She whispered the words between us, “…drug dealer doesn’t have some pretty girl on his arm during a business trip. Don’t you watch movies? There’s always a hot girl, and I volunteer.”
She was relentless, but I already planned on asking her. Watching her beg had easily become one of my favorite hobbies. Unfortunately, Intuition wasn’t the place for me to push her so far she got on her knees.
Addi didn’t need that kind of attention either. She had been through enough when the truth came out about her affair with a married prof. Every pair of eyes in her vicinity, at all times, turned into cruel whispers and even more brutal looks. She was a permanent joke, and it made me even more protective of her. It didn’t matter if I was around her or not, I was always thinking about if someone was being judgmental enough to warrant my fists.
That’s how I knew I was in too deep: when I wanted to be around her 24/7 just to protect her from people. I knew exactly how awful this world was—better than most, when you prefer juvenile delinquents over the population. People knew exactly what they were getting with me. I let people label me criminal, bad boy, reckless, damaged… it was the perfect warning sign and actually worked.
“Okay, you can come,” I said the words with so much ease I scared myself.
Who was I? Who was this guy playing games and playing it cool? I didn’t recognize myself anymore. I was fighting her with everything I had—to stay free of desire and truth. I didn’t need them, but I needed her. Everything came with strings…
Especially love.
Aspen & Maddison
The wedding reception
I was blinded by my redemption so much I couldn’t see that Maddison wasn�
�t something I could cage and keep forever. Redemption wasn’t a cure all. Without her overbearing parents to dictate her every move, she tasted something in the freedom she liked, and she wasn’t ready to let that taste go. She was wild and uncommitted, even to me, and I didn’t know how to maintain what we had while giving her space to stretch out of the confines.
I held her hand tightly at the wedding, like seeing two people surrender to each other would scare her further away from me. All I could do was hold her hand and hope that while she was free that she remembered loving me.
I longed for her once before when the crumpled up pieces of metal that was supposed to be my car drove a wedge between us. I went an entire year in a drunken stupor until she forgave me. How hard could some freedom be? At least she didn’t hate me this time. She would, if I wasn’t careful with how much I pushed her to settle down before she was ready.
I looked at her smooth hazelnut complexion, wondering what she felt as Liz delivered her vows through short breaths and tears. She squeezed my hand and the palm of her other hand covered my knuckles, like it wasn’t enough to be joined by one body part; she needed more of me. Her eyes turned glassy, and I knew something was breaking inside her. I wasn’t sure if it was her indulgence or… us.
There was as pressure in my chest that made taking a deep breath hurt, and I whispered her name, regardless of how much I knew this wasn’t the time or place.
“Maddison? You okay?”
She looked at me with stray tears threatening to ruin her makeup. “I don’t think I truly forgave you until now. I’m sorry it took me so long. The accident, my parents, not accepting their help anymore—I felt so free, but it doesn’t feel better than losing you. I love you, Aspen.”