The Reason I Stay

by Patty Maximini

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course he is. They’re best friends.”

  “They were, but then he left.”

  “And a month later he came back, and resumed all his activities in town.”

  My hands move from my mouth to massage my pounding temples. “Why didn’t I know this? You should have told me, Tanie.”

  “You didn’t know because you’ve been a copse. It’s hard to know what’s happening in the world when you don’t stick your head out the door. As for telling you . . . no, I shouldn’t have. Up until right now, you’ve refused to talk about him since I found you sleeping on that porch swing. You’ve also vowed to kick my ax if I even mentioned his name. On top of that, he didn’t want anyone telling you about him unless you asked. So you see the debacle?”

  I groan, but yes, I do.

  “Why didn’t he want anyone to tell me?”

  Tanie shrugs, and with a smile on her face, goes back to her wedding favors. “You’ll have to ask him that. I love you, Lex, and because of that I’m keeping my bridal nose out of this. If you want to know about him, you’ll have to go straight to the source.”

  “If he was willing to back out of his best friend’s wedding, I’m pretty sure the source wants nothing to do with me anymore. I fucked up really bad, Tan. You should have seen him when he left the diner. It was heartbreaking.”

  Despite the lack of funny in this moment, Tanie laughs, and throws a little heart-shaped tin at my face. “You’re such a deaf dork.”

  I narrow my eyes at the weird insult, which makes her laugh more. Then, with a raised brow, she explains. “I said that he wanted to bail so you could have a good time at the wedding. Of course he’s heartbroken that you wouldn’t talk to him. I would be, too. But do you know what the best thing about screwing up with someone who’s trying to make up for their own screw up is?”

  I shake my head. Tanie reaches for my hand, and looks at me with sympathetic eyes.

  “They understand that it is human nature to screw up every now and then, and for that reason, they’re very forgiving. What you need to know is if you can and want to forgive him, and give you guys another shot.”

  Snow jumps up to my lap. I pet her soft fur, and I think about that for way less time than I thought I would before replying. “I miss him, a lot. Seeing him was painful, and wonderful, and made me think that I do.” My voice breaks and Tanie squeezes my fingers as I drift my gaze to my cat for a second. After a sigh, I look back at her and continue, “But I’m scared, Tan. How can I trust that he won’t lie, and break my heart again?”

  “You just decide to.” She shrugs. “There’s no way that we can know how our hearts will be broken, or by whom. You and I know that better than anyone. We went out to a club once and our best friend died. Ship happens in life all the time—there’s no logic or plan to that. So yeah, he may break your heart again, but the chances of that are no higher than the ones of Eric getting a mistress and breaking mine.”

  I trace the rough lines on the wooden tabletop with a fingernail as I process Tanie’s words, and Snow meows as if she agrees, making me smile.

  “Life is chaos, and all we can control is how happy we are in our little mess. I can’t tell you what to do, Lexie. I don’t know if you should forgive or forget. But I know that in the twenty years I’ve known you, you’ve never been happier than when your mess included him. I also know that for the past four months you’ve been hurting, and that pain won’t go away unless you stop being such a chicken-ship about this and go talk to him.” She finally lets go of my hand and goes back to the favors.

  “You need to find out what your heart wants and from then on whatever decision you make will be the right one. That I guarantee you.”

  I look at her in awe and gratitude for a moment. She steals a quick glance back at me and points her nose to the tins we still have to finish. Without another word about it, we go back to our task and normal conversation. For the first time in months, I feel light and hopeful.

  I stand in front of the little white church, and look at its open double doors. This is a really awful idea.

  The thought is recurrent, and has plagued me since I left The Jukebox over a week ago. As much as I love Eric and Tanie, and as excited as I am about being by his side on his big day—as he’s been by mine for the past four and a half months—I’m also dreading every second that will come.

  Although I tried to explain to them many times that my presence here will make Lexie uncomfortable and ruin their day, they’re both too stubborn to pay attention, and so refused to get another best man for the wedding. According to Eric, things will work out. According to Tanie, I’ll be Pedro-less if I don’t suck it up and do my duties for my best friend. So, in order to save Pedro, here I am, at the appointed church at the appointed time, with my hair combed, jaw shaved, and in a blue button-down and my best pair of khaki trousers, ready for an afternoon and evening of pure awkward torture.

  I take a deep, and climb the little set of steps leading up to the church hall. Voices and laughs buzz from the inside, and the closer I get from the sanctuary the clearer one voice in particular gets. It makes my recurring thought ring louder in my mind, because, this is a really fucking awful idea.

  But it’s for Eric.

  That thought becomes my mantra, and gives me strength to steel my shoulders, put a smile on my face, and walk inside.

  Although I’m vaguely aware that the bride and groom and their families are here, as soon as I pass the threshold all I see is Lexie. She walks down the aisle, pretending to scatter petals on the floor with Kodee and the two younger Wolf girls. Although I only get a back view of her, she makes me breathless.

  She’s wearing the strapless dress she wore on our first official date. Her golden hair is pulled in a side bun that leaves her upper back, neck, and shoulders in full display for my greedy eyes. My whole body buzzes with an almost desperate need to go touch her, kiss her, and tell her how much I love her. But, after my failed attempt last week, I know I can’t. And that’s how the torture begins.

  All of a sudden a loud, shrieked version of “Mad” echoes in the church. My eyes move from Lexie to her goddaughter, who runs in my direction, making her blue dress sway around her. I kneel on the floor just in time to be tackled down by Kodee.

  “Sup, monkey?” I hug her back.

  “Did you hear? We’re playing against the Dragons in the final. They’re good, Mad.”

  I chuckle. “Coach Rick called me yesterday, but don’t worry, kid. We’re way better.” She gives me her trademark sassy smile that is just waiting for more compliments. I shake my head. “And we’ve got you and Brass, our unbeatable duo.”

  She giggles as Brass approaches. I high five both girls before they run off being silly in the way only they know how. When I get up from the floor, Lexie is standing just a few feet from me, looking like an angel, and I almost lose my shit.

  I fill my lungs with air, and command my voice to be less pathetic than I feel. “Hey.”

  Lexie smiles at me, and takes a step in my direction. My brows furrow as I see her arms moving toward me in slow motion. A million things go through my head at once, but as her arms swing around my neck for a hug, all noise is muted.

  Shockwaves travel down my spine as I curl my arms around her middle, returning the embrace. I close my eyes, and lose myself in the scent of honey and vanilla, and in the gentle touch of her fingers on my neck. I feel her relax beneath my fingers. Every single part of my body lives and dies a little bit at the contact.

  With a sigh she releases her fingers from me, and reluctantly I let her go as well. She takes half a step back, causing us to stand farther away than I’d like, but way closer than we should.

  “Hey.”

  Stupidly, I repeat, “Hey.”

  Lexie looks away from me for a second. When her gaze returns, she’s got a shy little smile on her lips. “So, you’re still the assistant coach?”

  I run a hand through my hair and blink a couple of tim
es, trying to focus on her words, and not on my desperate need to pull her close again. It takes a while for my brain to start to work, but when it does, I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep them from touching her again.

  I clear my throat to answer her question. “Yeah, Kodee wouldn’t let me quit. Besides, RL&G is now sponsoring them. We’ve become the envy of the league, since as the Rosies, the girls get to play in bright pink shirts. Rick’s not loving it so much, though.”

  Lexie laughs—the snorted laugh—and I fidget uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  “I may have to go to the final to see you and Big Rick in pink shirts. Must be a priceless sight.”

  The combination of her words, and the way her gorgeous green eyes are fixed on mine, I get the distinct impression that she’s flirting, which would make my life good for the first time in months. But after our encounter last week I know that she wants nothing to do with me, which means she’s just being nice to prevent an uncomfortable mess at the wedding. Even though putting on this show feels like medieval fucking torture to me, I play along for everyone’s sake.

  “The game will be next Saturday at eleven at the school’s field. We’d love to have you there.”

  She beams. “It’s a date.”

  Physical pain follows that word, and its alternate meaning. I need to get out of here now.

  “Awesome.” I smile, and point my chin toward Eric. “I should go say hi to the groom.”

  Lexie’s expression changes, and her shoulders sag a little, but she keeps her smile on. “Yeah . . . of course. We’ll talk later?”

  I pull my hand out of my pocket, and run it over my hair. “Sure,” I say before walking away.

  Honestly, I don’t think I could be more puzzled if I saw a group of aliens dressed like pirates doing a burlesque dance. I’ll obviously talk to her if she wants me to. Hell, I’d walk barefoot over hot coals if she asked, but just last week she seemed to need some space. Unless I imagined that, in which case I should go to the doctor, because I’ve gone and lost my mind.

  With a colossal effort to keep myself together, I greet Tanie, the rest of the Wolf women and Eric’s mom as I walk by them on my way to the altar where the men are talking. Eric is the first to greet me, with a grin the size of Alabama and wiggling brows.

  “Two minutes into this thing and y’all are already cozy and talking. Still think this was a bad idea, Matt?”

  I roll my eyes. “Two minutes into this thing and we’ve exhausted one of three neutral non-awkward subjects we have, and I’m inches away from losing my shit. Yes, this is a fucking terrible idea, but it’s for you, man.”

  He laughs, and I shake my head as the boys resume their conversation. I slip back into my mind, trying to find confirmation that the events I think happened actually did. I make some progress on that front, but then the rest of the wedding party arrives, and we finally start the rehearsal.

  For the most part, it consists of us walking and standing with a few pauses to fake-listen to the minister and fake-pray, which is simple enough. But, as the maid of honor and best man, Lexie and I are in charge of handing the rings to the bride and groom.

  Although the task seems simple in theory, this wedding is supposed to be very personal—whatever that means—and therefore, simply handing Eric the ring isn’t good enough. I should smile wilder and give my friend a little pat on the back to show my enthusiasm. Since my acting skills suck, and I’m not doing any of that, Georgia Wolf forces us to rehearse it three times, which is just stupid if you ask me.

  But that’s until Lexie starts to chuckle, and tease me from across the altar. She gives me crooked smiles, and raised brows, and wipes fake tears, and somehow it’s like the last four months never existed, and we’re back at being us. That feeling gives some extra fuel to my performance.

  I look Eric in the eyes, clasp his shoulder with intent, and even mouth congratulations at the happy couple as I respectfully wink at the blushing bride. When I step back to my spot, Lexie is clapping, and laughing, and making my palms sweat. When it’s her turn, I raise a brow, challenging her to do better, and because she does every single thing better than me, she doesn’t disappoint. She gives Tanie a face-splitting smile and a loaded gaze before delivering a kiss to her cheek. Georgia claps and compliments her on the first try, which earns me a smug smile from Lexie.

  I chuckle, and she winks.

  I tuck my hair behind my ear, and she taps her finger in her thigh.

  And we hold each other’s gaze.

  The intensity of our connection is so strong that everything else fades away. I don’t hear the fake “I do” or fake-prayer. I don’t pay attention to their introduction as husband and wife, or even to their kiss. I just stare at Lexie in awe and longing, and hope that she sees in my eyes that I’ve changed, and that I love her above all else.

  Without taking her eyes from me she starts walking, and though I don’t know why she’s moving or where she’s going, I follow. Her smile grows the closer we get from each other and I forget how to even breathe.

  Once Lexie is in arm’s reach, I raise a hand, and the tips of my fingers touch her soft cheek. Her face leans a bit toward my touch, and her lids fall slightly over her eyes. Butterflies and fireworks are set loose inside my stomach, but then she shakes her head. It’s just a tiny movement, almost imperceptible—almost—but I see it, and it’s enough to make my arm fall as an avalanche of painful memories and emotions fill my body. I blink, and look away.

  I suddenly hear Georgia’s voice as the church snaps back into focus. “That’s better. Now you two turn forward and smile at the church.” I do as instructed. “Lexie, place your hand on the crook of Matt’s arm.” Lexie does what she’s told. “And slowly walk out.” We start moving.

  We walk the length of the church in absolute silence. Regardless of our physical proximity, it’s as if there’s a wall separating us, and for the first time ever I feel completely out of place in her presence.

  Lexie doesn’t let go of my arm once we pass through the doors leading to the foyer, and just keeps walking until we reach the doors that will take us outside. We stop at the threshold. “What happened in there?”

  It’s unclear if she’s referring to the touch specifically, or to everything that happened since I got here. I assume the latter, since that mostly confuses me. My eyes stay focused on the wooden frame behind her back and I run a hand through my hair. “Something that shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you really?” Her voice is close to breaking, and again I’m baffled.

  Unsettled, I lock my jaw, steel my back, and lift my eyes to her beautiful face. We stare at each other for a second, and as we do her face turns into something from one of my nightmares—downcast brows, a frown in her lips, and tears rimming her eyes.

  She inhales deeply, and shakes her head. “I know I’m a week too late, but I’m trying here, Mathew. What are you doing?”

  Bewildered, I stare at her raised brows that are paired with expectant eyes. I try to think of something to say, but before I can even make sense of my jumbled thoughts she shakes her head and runs out of the church. For a couple of seconds I stand alone at the entryway, looking and feeling like an ass, and then, when it finally dawns on me the size of my stupidity, I run after her.

  By the time I reach the curb it’s too late. She’s in her car and driving away, so I just stand there with my head bowed, and my heart pounding until an elbow bumps against my arm.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  I sigh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Eric drapes an arm over my shoulders. “If you stop moping like a pathetic schoolgirl, put on your tie, ditch the pussy attitude, and go to the dinner as the man she fell in love with, this is totally fixable.”

  “I’m not being a pussy. Besides, the man she fell for was an asshole. I don’t want him back.”

  He slaps the back of my head. “First of all, this is a very pussy thing to say. You certainly had asshole parts,
but mostly you were a pretty cool dude who went after what he wanted, and made shit happen. Number two: you’re so afraid she’ll turn you down again that you’re turning her down yourself. That, my friend, is the definition of a pussy.”

  “No it’s not. Pussy is a cat, or female genitals.” He slaps me in the back of the head again. I lift a brow. “Stop doing that.” He does it again. I shake my torso, dislodging his hand from around me. “And she did turn me down. I touched her face, and she shook her head.”

  “Because Georgia said that the only P.D.A. allowed was between me and Tanie, dumbass. Tanie is in there yelling at her for it.”

  My eyes open wide. Shit. Shitshitshit . . . SHIT!

  Finally my jumbled thoughts come together, and I realize that, one, Eric is right. Since last week I’ve been so afraid to push her too far, make things awkward and lose her altogether that I’m repeating the cowardly—or pussy-like—attitude that cost me Lexie in the first place; two, I’m so stuck in my own head I only saw what my pussy-ness allowed me to; and, the most important, three, what the fuck is wrong with me?

  I love her. I want her back. I’ve spent months working on myself to be better and worthy of her. It was months of waiting and hoping for a chance, and when I finally got it I ignored it? What am I doing?

  When I arrive a Sally’s Inn for the rehearsal dinner, my mind is set. Today is the day when this stupid shit ends.

  From the doorway I scan the room, which already has a hearty bunch of people talking and drinking, and find Lexie standing at the far end. She’s drinking a glass of champagne and talking to a few people, but her eyes are wondering. It takes less than a minute for her to look where I’m at, and when she does and our eyes meet, she fidgets, and the cute little smile on her lips hardens a bit. Not a great sign, I’ll admit, yet I’ve endured worse expressions from her, and therefore I won’t let it sway my resolve.

  Set on my goal, I walk. I pass a series of familiar and strange faces, but I don’t stop to greet them. The closer I get, the rise and fall of her chest becomes faster, and when I finally reach the circle she’s at, she crosses her arms over her chest, but keeps her gaze fixed on mine.