I spread my lips into a nice smile. “Hello,” I say to her and the group.
She looks at her companions and smiles, the upward curve of her lips stiff and forced. “Y’all, this is the best man, Mathew.”
Reluctantly, she looks at me again as she continues the introductions. The only thing my brain actually registers is that the family is related to Tanie from Georgia’s side, which is unfortunate, since nowadays I take great pride in remembering people’s names.
In an effort not to be too rude, I start some small talk by asking where they’re from. Things go well until the eldest daughter, a curvy girl with a lot of cleavage showing, starts to flip her hair over her shoulder, and stare at me from under her lashes. From my peripheral vision I see Lexie’s brow raising at the girl, which tells me that it’s time to go and that my plan is likely to be successful.
“It’s been great meeting you and I hope we get to talk more, but I have some important things to discuss with the maid of honor. So if you’ll excuse us.”
Everyone smiles and nods—except Flirty Girl, who pouts—as I place a hand on Lexie’s lower back and guide her away. We make it five steps in the direction of the door before Lexie stops walking, and fixes an angry gaze at me.
“What do you need?”
The scent of lilies fills my lungs as I take a deep breath. “As a general rule, I need you, Lexie. But right now, I need you to please go outside with me so we can talk.”
She shakes her head. “You had your chance earlier. Besides, we’re the maid of honor and best man—we have to mingle. We can’t leave.”
I groan, and bite my tongue to keep myself from swearing. “Look, I love it when you’re difficult, I really do. It’s sexy as fuck, but so help me God, woman. I’ve had enough of this ridiculous crap. I’m done asking. It’s your choice—either we do this the easy way, in which you’ll use your sexy legs to walk outside so we can talk, or we’ll do this the embarrassing way, in which I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you the fuck out. In consideration of our friends I don’t want to make a scene, but I’m goddamned sure they’ll understand if I do. So what will it be?”
She stares at me with an arched brow for a few seconds longer, and then, without a word, turns around and starts walking towards the door. Relieved, I follow her.
We’re on the boardwalk, surrounded by the clammy beachy air, when Lexie finally turns to look at me with balled-up fists and a scowl. “You’re such a confusing asshole.”
“Really?” I ask, shocked. “I’m the confusing one?” She doesn’t reply, and just stares at me with arms at her waist, and a tapping foot. I pull at my hair. “Pray tell, love, how do I confuse you?”
“I don’t know what you want. You screw up, go away, come back, and don’t even look me up until four months later. Then you go to The Jukebox wanting to talk, you put that goddamned song on, and when I put on this dress and hug you, it’s like you don’t care. Like you don’t even realize what I’m trying to do. And finally, you say you need me, but in the most asshole way possible. So yes, this is all very confusing.”
“Well, what did you expect?” I blurt out, beyond frustrated. “This is us, Lexie. I’m an asshole, and you’re stubborn as a goddamned door. We’re made of misunderstandings, and badly placed words, and stupid arguments. We’re a pit of bad decisions and confusion, but there’s always been one thing that’s crystal clear . . .”
She looks at me with wide eyes and an unmoving chest, and I hold her gaze. My fists are clenched too tight. My knuckles are cold, and when I pry them open my hands shake. Yet, I try to keep them steady as my left fingers unbutton my right cuff, and roll my sleeve up to my elbow. We both exhale at the same time as I stretch my arm in front of her.
Her hand cradles my forearm as green eyes take in the rose inked to my skin. A tentative, dark blue fingernail traces the lines of the replica of the tattoo on her shoulder, setting my body and soul on fire.
“You’re the love of my life, the only woman who I’ve ever and will ever love,” I continue as her eyes stay focused on the tat. “I know I’ve screwed us up. I know I let my fears and insecurities cloud my judgment—not only while we were together, but today as well. But none of that was because I didn’t love you.
“I started to fall in love with you the moment you told me off that very first day. That’s why I couldn’t leave this town, why I didn’t want to. But I didn’t know how to love, and accept myself enough to let you in and love you the way you deserved. All I could see was that I was a black hole in people’s lives, something that attracts things only to destroy them, and you deserved better. So I showed you the little bits of me that I could accept in hopes of keeping you longer.
“I had to lose you, be completely broken and come face to face with Lea to finally see that hiding from who I was and what I did was not only selfish and cowardly, but was also useless. From there I spent the past four months confronting, finding meaning, and making peace with my past.”
Lexie finally lifts her gaze to my face. She nods, and furrows her brows, but her finger continues to move on the inside of my forearm.
“I went to Dennis’s house. We talked. I told him how much his absence after Mom’s death hurt me; he explained his side of things, and we’re finally in a good place. I said goodbye to my old friends at my own birthday party, which was a good ending to that story.” I chuckle at the memory of everyone I used to know wishing me a happy birthday, and me replying with, “It was good knowing you.”
I shake the memory away, and continue, “Lea and I still talk a lot. It’s good to see her happy, despite it all. She’s dying to meet you, by the way.” Lexie smiles. “And then I came back here, and I waited, and I worked on myself until I felt ready for my last unfinished business.”
“Me?”
I laugh. “Yes.”
“Is that why you went to the diner?”
Staring her in the eyes, I nod. “Yes. I needed to tell you that meeting you was the best, most life-altering event that has ever happened to me. You’re a sun, Lexie. You bring light, and warmth, and life to everything around you. And though I’ll always regret that I broke your heart, I’ll always be grateful that you broke mine. It made me a better, kinder, self-aware person who deserves someone like you. So even if you don’t ever give me another chance—which I really hope you do—I’ll forever be grateful to life just because I got to know and love you.”
We stare at each other in silence for so long that I think minutes pass. Then, without warning or reason or explanation, Lexie slides the fingers she has over my tattoo down my arm until they are aligned with my own. Her perfect lips curl up as her fingers lace with mine. She takes a step toward me until her chest is only inches away.
She tilts her head back, looking so deep into my eyes that I feel her staring into my soul. Involuntarily, my hand moves up to her face like it did at the church, and this time, she doesn’t shake her head or pull away. Instead, her eyes fill with tears, and a she takes a deep breath through parted lips.
“It’s nice to finally know you, Mathew Ian Rogers. I’ve missed you more than words can describe.”
I want to laugh, and cry, and run around clicking my heels, but I do something a lot better. I bring my lips to hers, and kiss her with all the love, and longing, and passion in my heart, and finally, I’m home.
Although I’ve always believed in happiness, I’ve never believed in happily-ever-afters.
I think my skepticism towards that concept was a consequence of growing up with no parents, an uncle who postponed his happy ending indefinitely, and a best friend who died prematurely. However, on the Sunday that marks the second anniversary of my and Matt’s first encounter, I find myself thinking that the idea of two people and never-ending happiness is not only possible, but eminent.
After all, today is our wedding day.
Unlike most girls, I never spent more than two minutes dreaming about my wedding. I never wanted the perfect ring, or a big fluffy dress, or tiered
cakes, or even a fancy wedding reception. No, my expectations were a lot simpler—and a lot harder to come by. I wanted a happy marriage to a man who truly loved me.
As I step outside our home in a simple flowery dress, my arm laced with Dacle Greg’s, I see exactly what I dreamt of.
Instead of a band playing the wedding march, I step onto the sand at our beach to the sound of some good ol’ country music coming from the diner’s jukebox, which is on our back porch as a wedding loan. I make my way through the joyful faces of our closest friends and family—including some unexpected ones, like Dennis, his wife Alice and their two adorable kids, as well as Lea and her boyfriend Thomas—to a simple canopy facing the ocean, and a breathtaking sunset.
And there, standing barefoot in khakis and a button-down shirt, with our dog Cash by his side, and a red rose in his hand, is Matt. He gives me an ear-to-ear grin, and the whole world fades away.
Matt is what my dreams were made of. The best friend, the partner, the one person with whom I get to be completely myself, and the reason I stay hopeful and happy, even when life sucks. He’s the best part of every single day, and though he’s far from perfect, he makes life as close to perfection as it gets. And now, he’s about to become my husband.
Once we reach the canopy, Dacle Greg kisses my cheek and walks away. Matt and I lace our fingers together as the justice of the peace starts his speech. I have no idea what the man says—all I know is that Matt holds my gaze, and I hold his.
He tucks his hair behind his ear.
I tap my index finger on his palm.
He winks and I smile.
Continue reading for an excerpt of Patty’s debut novel: EXCEPTION.
The corridor seemed to stretch into an eternity of worn-out wooden floorboards, faded walls with broken mirrors and a sickening mold smell. Identical doors with large brass knobs lined the walls at different intervals.
Emily walked the hallway with a tight knot forming in her gut. She’d been in that place many times before and knew exactly what to expect; but, as much as she hated that place and those doors, and what she would find on the other side of them, she knew she couldn’t help but to open them.
Ignoring the first two doors, Emily stood in front of the third and took a deep breath, allowing the mold and dust to fill her nostrils. Her shaky hand reached for the round handle and, in one swift movement, she opened the door. As soon as her feet crossed the threshold, she regretted her choice.
A familiar dimly-lit street, littered with rubble from a nasty car wreck, spanned the space before her. She’d been there before—but this time, there was something different. It wasn’t anything specific; just a different charge in the air that made her skin crawl.
Within seconds, the door she’d entered through vanished, and bright lights and loud noises engulfed her. The female shrieked hysterically. Her words made no sense, but they still got Emily’s blood boiling. A painful, childish cry came from the rubble, replacing every thought in her mind with a desperate need to save the tiny person asking for help.
Her feet and her agony urged her forward, but, before she could take her first step, a hand caught her neck in a steel grip, cutting the flow of oxygen to her lungs. Reaching up she clawed at the hand, but her efforts were useless. She was weak and powerless, and completely subdued. The warmth of disgusting whiskey-scented breath touched her ear, affirming all her previous thoughts, as a male voice whispered, “You’re mine, princess. You’ll always be mine.”
Bile rose to Emily’s mouth at the sound of that voice, and her fingers clawed more vigorously, her nails digging into his skin until they drew blood. Still, his hold didn’t loosen. Hot and heavy tears fell from her eyes and she hated how weak they made her look, but she couldn’t keep them in.
“Take your damn hands of me,” she demanded in a raspy whisper. “Don’t ever touch me. No one can touch me.”
Loud, wild laughter followed her words, as another set of hands clasped around her neck, crazed laughter and an evil male and female chorus echoed like creepy bells in her ears. Tears streamed from her eyes like rivers. Her body stiffened as the whiskey breath neared her once more.
“You’re still here, princess, and here you belong to me.”
Emily’s mouth opened and she forced her vocal cords to produce some sort of sound, but nothing returned to her ears. Her muscles trembled and weakened as her assailants closed in on her, calling her name. The repulsive smell of alcohol filled her nostrils again, heightening and spreading more and more panic through her every limb. Her tears became waterfalls, wetting her face and hair.
Then Emily’s eyes flew open and she saw her older sister, Charlotte, sitting by her side. Her big blue eyes were wide and terrified as she held Emily’s limp body against her own.
“Shh . . . it’s okay Emmy, it was just a dream,” Charlotte whispered against Emily’s hair, her arms wrapped around her baby sister with a vicelike grip as she rocked both their bodies back and forth.
“They touched me Charlie, both of them. He said I still belong to him because I’m still here,” Emily cried on her sister’s shoulder. “I hate that they touched me . . . I hate it.”
Arching her body back to look at her sister’s face, Charlotte kissed the tears running down her cheeks away and forced a smile. “Good thing that you’re not sticking around for much longer, right?”
She waited in silence until Emily’s tears had stopped and her body had relaxed; then, with loving arms, she leaned back to the mattress, holding her sister flush against her tiny frame. “Now sleep, sissy, because tomorrow you’re crossing the country in a U-Haul truck to start a new life and leave all these bad memories and nightmares behind.
“I’m so proud of you for taking this chance to reinvent yourself,” Charlotte continued in a soothing voice. “I know sometimes you feel weak, but you’re not, honey, you’re so strong and so incredible, and so deserving of the best life has to offer. I’m sure you’ll find happiness on the East Coast.”
Emily closed her eyes, paying close attention to her sister’s words, words she desperately wanted to believe.
“You just have to use your gut, keep your wits, and give deserving people a chance. We all know you can hold your own alone. We all know you don’t mind being a loner, but having people, friends who love you, is an amazing gift; so, if people approach you, if they want to get to know you—give them a chance. Don’t make it easy for them, though. Make your standards as high as your heels, and don’t accept anything less, but don’t immediately dismiss them, either. Promise me you’ll do that? Try to be happy? Promise me you’ll try to love people, and allow yourself to be loved in return?”
“Charlie . . . ” Emily began to protest.
Rolling her eyes and hugging her sister tighter, Charlotte spoke over Emily’s words. “Don’t ‘Charlie’ me, just promise, or I’ll pack up and Chuck and I will go with you.”
Emily wanted to laugh at her sister’s tenacity and her unique way of resolving the situation. Lightly bobbing her head against her sister’s shoulder, she replied, “Okay, I’ll try.”
Curling her lips in a small but genuine smile, Charlotte knotted her pinky with her sister’s and kissed her soft wet cheek, like she used to do when they were kids. “Thanks sissy. Now sleep.”
A repetitive, annoying noise woke Emily from her pleasant dreams, leaving her disoriented. She fussed over her iPhone trying to silence the alarm, until, at some point, her brain decided to wake up and notice that the annoying sound was coming from the doorbell.
With some mumbling she swung her legs out of bed and stood up, the hardwood floors cold beneath her feet despite the approaching summer. “Lucky bastard,” she mumbled towards the window and the still sleeping sun.
The doorbell rang again and again and again. Heavy, knocks came from the other side of her front door. As irritating as the overload of sound was that early in the morning, Emily couldn’t help but smile.
Before the door was completely open, the screaming began.
It was a high-pitched, overly excited, two-voice chorus, saying something that sounded like, “Happy anni-friend-sary!” and it made Emily enormously glad that the only other resident on her floor was one of the screamers.
The words melted Emily’s heart and lined her eyes with tears. Of course she remembered that, exactly a year before, Jody and Zack had entered her life. She had adamantly closed herself off to the world, so how could she ever forget becoming friends with the only two people she had allowed in her heart, even if it was with some reservation? At first the friendship had just been a way for Emily to keep the promise she made to her sister, but as the year passed, they had become so much more than that.
Their opposite personalities were perfect compliments to each other, which led Jody’s fiancé, Bradley, to describe them as three thirds of a person. Emily was the heart of the trio, Zack was the conscience and Jody was the impulse. Together they were a balanced, whole being. They were also the only people, outside the boundaries of those Emily considered family, who she loved and trusted enough to open up to about her past.
She hadn’t shared everything with them, though; no one other than her sister knew everything. Not even Simon and Johanna Webber, the older couple both Watson sisters considered parents, and the reason why Emily had chosen New Haven to relocate herself after she left California. However, she could say, without fear of being wrong, that Jody and Zack were the ones who knew her the most.
Laughing, she stepped aside, allowing her friends entrance. Their hands were full with grocery bags, covered plates, flowers, a balloon, and even a bottle of fine champagne, which was odd considering the time of day.
“What’s all this?” she asked, following the newcomers to her breakfast bar.
Jody set down her bags and turned to curl her tiny arms around her friend’s shoulders. “Happy first anni-friend-sary, Cheesecake! I’m so happy to have you in my life.”
The Reason I Stay Page 27