by Michelle Lee
"Gri—" the rest of his name gets lodged in my throat thanks to the lump of emotion.
"Zoey, I never thought I would find that one person I wanted to spend forever with, that was until I met you on Halloween and I just knew. The moment I saw you, I knew I was falling for you. And I knew I would fall hard. Every day I find myself still falling, and I don't think it will ever stop—and I don't want it to. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Zoey, will you marry me?"
Griffin is blurry, and my throat is even more constricted now by this huge-ass lump that's made its way into it. All I can do is nod. And nod. And nod. Griffin happily puts the ring on my finger. His hand is shaking. Or is mine? Maybe both. And then I leap into his arms, nearly knocking him down. He laughs before his lips are kissing mine. And kissing. And kissing. Deep. Passionate. Love.
A couple of throats clear and I reluctantly get off my fiancé. My fiancé. I have a fiancé. I'm getting married. Holy Shit! I'm getting married!
I am pulled out of the comfort of his arms by Ashlee, of course, who can't stop bouncing or squealing. Geoffrey and Patrick are no better. Skye joins the mix to get a look at my ring. My ring.
"Congratulations, Zoey. Maybe one day it will be me," Skye says and then glances at Evan.
I find Evan just watching, his lips set in a thin line, before a small, very small, smile tugs at his lips. I think he mouths, "Congrats." Just as the complete and utter joy that is consuming me starts to change into something else entirely, I am drawn back to four gushing girls. Yep, Geoffrey and Patrick are included in that mix. Geoffrey and Ashlee start to argue about who will be the wedding planner, and all I can do is watch Evan walk away. For something reason, the idea crawls into the forefront of my mind; my best friend is also walking away from me.
****
I don't know why I'm surprised to have Evan blow me off—repeatedly. But still it hurts. More than he knows. More than I'd like to admit. Ashlee knows. Ashlee always knows. I have something really important I want to ask him about the wedding, and he's always busy every time I start to bring it up. I get that he doesn't like Griffin. I get that he hasn't approved of me dating him from the beginning for whatever stupid reason. But I think Griffin has proved himself not to be an asshole like I’ve dated in the past. So, his feelings about that should have changed by now, I would think and hope. Griffin isn't using me to get what he wants. I'm marrying the wonderful man. He isn't dumping me, leaving Evan to "pick up the pieces." I just don't get it. It's not like he's alone, he has Skye. I could understand him feeling left out because everyone in the group has someone, but he does too. So what is his fucking deal? I've had enough. So, today I'm surprising him at work. I'm done with him canceling on me. I'm done with the excuses. At work, he has nowhere to hide. Nowhere. I'm not sure how I'm going to say what I need to say. I'm hoping it comes to me on my way over there. Who am I kidding? I'll be flying by the seat of my pants with this conversation.
I grab my purse and tell Albert I'm heading out, and he tells me good luck. I so need all the luck I can get. I arrive at his work and Jamie, his assistant, tells me he's in his office on the phone. I tell her I'm here to surprise him. Jamie looks to the door and then looks back to me. She's struggling with what to do—it's written all over her face.
"Okay, Zoey, go in. I wasn't here, okay?"
"No prob. Gee, I wonder where Jamie is? She's not at her desk. Hmmm?" I joke.
Jamie smiles and walks away. My hand reaches for the door knob, and I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. I walk in, and Evan is sitting at his desk with the chair's back to me.
"Just fix it. I don't care how, just fix it!" The chair spins around, and Evan slams the phone back down in its cradle.
I jump. Shit, this is so the wrong time. Before I can even turn around and high-tail it out of there before he sees me—he does. "Zoey? What are you doing here?" he asks, totally annoyed.
I don't know if he's annoyed because of the phone call or annoyed because I'm actually here. The latter idea fuels my anger of being blown off the past few weeks. "Surprise. Can't blow me off me that easily," I answer my tone hard.
"I'm not trying to blow you off. I've been…I’ve been…busy," he comes back.
"Busy? Really? You find time to talk to Ashlee, go out with Skye, see Brett. Everyone but me."
I feel my chest tighten, my eyes prick. Don't cry now.
"It's not like that, Zoey. Seriously, I've been busy," he repeats.
I don't believe him. "I miss you. I miss us," I honestly tell him.
"You have Griffin, what do you need me for?" His voice is detached.
How can he ask that?
"I'll always need you. No matter if I have Griffin or not. You'll always be my best friend," I truthfully answer.
He huffs.
"Um, I didn't come here to get in a fight with you, Evan. I've been wanting to ask you something really important," I begin, my body is shaking with nerves.
He nods for me to continue.
"Usually, the bride has a maid or matron of honor. I…um…I was wondering if you would be my man of honor. Before you say anything, Ashlee has agreed to be my maid of honor, so you won't have to do any wedding stuff. Your only job would be to stand next me at the altar. So, will you be my man of honor?"
His shoulders slump and he looks down at his desk as if the answer is written on his planner. It feels as though an eternity goes by. My palms are sweaty, and my heart beats in overdrive waiting for him to answer. He gets up and walks to stand in front of me. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he reaches out to tuck a hair behind my ear. My nerves somewhat settle. He's going to say yes. Evan's hand falls from my face just when his smile does. "I can't."
I feel everything come crashing down. "Wh-what?"
"I said I can't. I can't be your man of honor. I can't stand next to you while you marry Griffin. I'm sorry. I just can't." That's all he gives me.
"I don't understand. You're my best friend. Best friends do stuff like this for each other. If you were to ask me…" I begin, but he interrupts.
"I can't. Just accept it, okay?"
"Just accept it. Just accept it? You can't be fucking serious. I want you there with me…I need you there with me." A tear escapes and travels hot down my cheek. I angrily wipe it away before Evan can say or do anything. Not like he would.
"Zoey, I can't. It wouldn't be…I just don't…I don't know if I'll even be there."
He won't be there.
"Wh-what? Why? You…have…you just…have to…Evan…I don't understand…I can't get…I don't know…please…you just…." My heart breaks and crumbles. I never expected this to be his answer. I never expected this to happen.
"It's a work thing. Bad timing. I'm sorry." He walks back to his desk.
"Evan, there has to be a way. Work…can…can wait…it's not every day your best friend…"
"Stop. Just stop. I can't be there for you, Zoey. Not now. Not anymore. You have Griffin, and I have Skye. This friendship of ours won't be the same, isn't the same. You don't need to rely on me anymore. I don't need to be there for you every second of every day. You have Griffin. Griffin, the guy you are going to marry. Go, be with him, need him. I can't…I can't keep hurting…hurting Skye like this…it's not fair to her or to me."
"So, what…that's it? We're not friends anymore because I'm getting married and you have a girlfriend. That's just…that's just…stupid!" Rage fuels my words.
"I guess our friendship has just run its course. You have Ashlee, Geoffrey, Patrick…you don't need me…anymore."
"I'll always…" I start.
"Don't. You don't. I'm done, Zoey, I'm done. I think you should just accept the way things are and are going to be, and move on."
His phone rings, and he quickly answers it. "Great, I'll be right there."
He turns his attention back to me. "I gotta go take care of this. You can see your way out, and Jamie can validate your parking."
"Ev—" But when I turn around he's g
one.
The door clicks behind him. Everything he's said to me comes crashing down. I can't breathe. I pull out my phone and call the one person I need. "Hey…Ashlee…Evan…um…I…um…" I can't say it. I just can't. She urges me to get in a cab, and she'll meet me at her place in twenty minutes. My body listens, my mind on lock down as I leave his office.
"Zoey, is everything okay?" Jamie inquires concern in her voice.
I look at her and simply shake my head.
"A cab will be waiting for when you get down stairs," she offers.
I nod. I enter the elevator and everything that was said comes rushing back, and I fall completely apart. My worst nightmare has become a reality; I've completely lost my best friend.
****
I have been caught up in a tornado of wedding planning activity. Well, two tornados to be exact—Tornado Ashlee and Tornado Patrick and Geoffrey. The three of them have been—incredible. I couldn't ask for three of the best people to help me. And God knows I needed help these past few months. I have never planned a wedding before, and I am grateful to have the three of them by my side helping me. Who knew chair covers were so involved—I certainly didn't.
Ashlee, of course, is my maid of honor, and right now she is applying the finishing touches to my makeup, while Patrick finishes my hair. The man has mad skills. If his job at the magazine ever falls through, he definitely has something to fall back on. Geoffrey is fluttering around somewhere, making sure everything and everyone are in their rightful places.
As for me? I am a bundle of nerves. I don't think my stomach has been calm since I woke up this morning. A mixture of excitement and nerves swirl around inside me. I can't wait to see Griffin and say "I do," but I'm also afraid I am going to fall flat on my face or my ass walking down the aisle. Dad better have a firm grip on me. A bit of sadness is also in the mix. And it has one word attached to it—Evan. Since, he refused to stand by me and be my man of honor, I haven't really heard from him. Sure, we've emailed a few times and briefly spoken on the phone, but nothing major. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss him. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want him here. I do. I want him here. I need him here. My best friend should be here. Even if he thinks otherwise.
"There, all done." Ashlee's voice pulls me out of my head.
She leans back, admiring her work, but there is sadness in her eyes. I am sure it reflects the sadness that mine are showing. She gives my hand a quick squeeze—a reassuring squeeze. A squeeze saying she knows what I'm thinking and is here for me.
"Don't you dare cry and mess up my work. Totally unacceptable," she quickly scolds, wagging her finger at me.
I can't help but smile. God, I love Ashlee. So glad she's here. So glad she's standing by me.
"I'm finished now, too," Patrick announces.
The two of them slowly spin my chair around so I can face the mirror. I take in my appearance, and I am completely floored. Not that I didn't expect anything less from them, but I swear I look like I could grace the cover of every fashion magazine.
"You guys, I look…" I begin.
"Hot, totally H-O-T," Geoffrey finishes for me as he enters the room.
"Okay, so everything is in order. The place is packed. I just had it out of the florist, but finally she saw her mistake and my vision, so all is good—no worries. We just need the beautiful bride to take her place," Geoffrey informs the three of us.
"My dad?"
"He's out in the hallway, waiting. I wanted to make sure you were perfect first," Geoffrey tells me.
The three of them give me the once-over. "Perfect," they agree in unison.
My heart swells in my chest, and all I can do is mouth a thank you. Geoffrey and Patrick leave, but quickly return with my dad in tow. My dad looks me up and down, his eyes glistening. "You look amazing, Zo."
"Thanks, Dad."
"Okay. Ashlee, Patrick, come with me, let's give these two a little daddy-daughter time," Geoffrey insists.
And just like that, Tornado Ashlee and Tornado Geoffrey and Patrick disappear through the door.
"You really look beautiful, kiddo. You remind me of your mom on our wedding day," Dad informs me. He clears his throat when he's done. Yep, my dad is a little emotional. I'm emotional.
"Do, you, um…need anything? I don't have to give you…the um, wedding night, um…speech, do I? Cause if I do…I…"
"Oh God, Dad, no. Just…no…no need to go there. I have that covered."
Mom actually had that talk with me last night during the rehearsal dinner, much to my dismay.
"Okay, good. So, Mom…"
"Yep, Mom took care of that last night. So, yeah, no need."
For the first time, I notice there is music playing in the background. The current song ends and another begins, and I think my heart stops.
"Zo, you okay?" my dad questions.
"Um, yeah…could I, um, have just one moment alone?"
The song continues, and I feel slightly light-headed.
"Um, sure. Do you need me to get Mom or Ashlee or…"
"No, I'm fine. I just need a minute."
The song continues.
“…like love…”
"You sure?"
"I'm sure."
Dad gently kisses my cheek and leaves. It's just me, the song, and a special memory.
The ringing of my phone interrupts my lame attempt of doing my Trig homework.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Zoey, it's Evan."
"Hi, Evan. What's up?"
Even though he's dating Chelsea and we are best friends, I can't help the way my heart races or the butterflies that invade my stomach when he calls me, when he's talking to me, when he's just near me. Being in love with your best friend—sucks! I can't let on that this is how I feel. It will ruin everything. He doesn't feel the same. He won't ever feel the same. I can't lose him. I won't lose him. Play it cool. He's just Evan. He's just my best friend. He’s just Evan. So not working.
"Zoey, are you still there?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm here, sorry."
"I just asked if you needed a ride to the game tomorrow?"
"The game, tomorrow. Right. Um, I'm not sure if I'm going or not."
"Oh, come on, Zoey, you so have to go. I need my partner in crime to cheer with me," he pleads.
I'm a goner.
"Fine. I'll go," I acquiesce.
"Ha! I knew I could convince you. So, what are you doin?"
"Trig homework…" I begin, but hear something playing in the background on Evan's end.
I can just make out a song, one I've never heard before.
"Um, Evan, what are you listening to?"
He chuckles. "Oh, that's something my mom gave me, one of her favorite bands—Psychedelic Furs. The songs called “Heartbreak Beat”. I'll turn it up. I actually wanted you to hear it and see what you think?"
Evan and I were always exchanging songs we come across that we hadn't heard before. Our musical tastes were similar. There is rustling on his end, and then the song comes through the phone loud and clear. The music moves through me, the words going straight to my heart. I continue to listen; concentrating on the lyrics coming through the phone and my heart leaps within my chest.
I hear every word and a few stand out more than others…love…heartbreak…kiss… and I can’t help but think about my lips on Evan’s. My pulse quickens, my heart rate accelerates. So many emotions, thoughts, and questions swirl inside me. Does this song mean something to him? Why this song? Why would he play it for me? Does he feel the words in it? Does he feel like this about me? So much. Too much. I am at a loss. My imagination starts to run away with itself. Dare I think it? No, I can't. He's with Chelsea. I'm just Zoey. I'm just his best friend. The song finishes. I feel a tear slip down my cheek.
"Well, what do you think? I mean, it's an old song, but it says so much, don't you think?" Evan questions.
What is he asking me exactly? My heart, soul, and mind want to say that he loves
me too, that he wants to be with me, that there's no one else, but…
"You look absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful," a voice cuts through my memory.
My vision focuses on the image in the background of the mirror. Evan. I must be dreaming. He's here. He's really here. I turn, a little too quickly, my head dizzies. And in an instant, Evan is at my side helping me, just like he's done a thousand times. The warmth of his touch spreads like wild fire. I squirm. He pulls away.
"Wha—what are you doing here?" I manage to question.
Evan steps away, putting distance between us, raking his fingers through his hair—a nervous habit he's had over the years. A habit I've become all too familiar with. He's struggling with something. He's nervous about something. That makes two of us. I take in his appearance—jeans, rumpled shirt, scruff covering his face. He looks ragged, like he hasn't slept in days. This isn't the Evan I know. Something is off, and it's starting to worry me—scare me.
"Ev—"
Before I can get his name out, he blurts out, "Don't marry him."
Not this again.
I've reached my limit.
"Evan, there is nothing you can say or do that is going to change my mind. We've been over this. Griffin is a great guy, a wonderful man. He's nothing like any man I've ever dated. We are getting married. I'm happy. He makes me happier than I ever imagined. Why can't you see that? Why don't you get that? Why can't you accept that?" My voice shakes at the end.
He paces back and forth, stops, and then turns and faces me. There is so much in his eyes, in his expression; I can't pinpoint one emotion. He takes a deep breath.
"I love you."
What?
Everything stops— my breathing, my heart, my time. He slowly takes a step toward me, repeating those three words. "I love you." Another step… "I love you." And another…"I love you." …Until we are standing toe to toe, face to face. I go to open my mouth, to say something, but I have no idea what. Evan takes my hands in his, and that's when I notice he's trembling. Or is it me? Or both? He takes a deep breath and stares straight into my eyes—into my soul.
"God, I feel like such a shit doing this, but I had to—I have to." One hand lets go of mine, and his fingers caress my cheek. He sighs.