Hitched

by Dawn Rae Miller

  "Hi to you, too," I say before I can stop myself. Did that sound too flirty?

  "Ellie," Sophie says, motioning to an empty chair. "Come. You must sit with us."

  Fletch stands. "No, sit here, next to me." He jostles Reid. "You can sit down by Sophie."

  Reid doesn't hesitate and jumps up from his seat. "Here, Ellie. Sit down."

  I do as I'm told, and Reid walks away, but not before giving Fletch a knowing smile.

  "Hey," Fletch says again.

  "Hi."

  "Did you get something to eat? The food is delicious." He touches his plate of lobster.

  "I have a plate, but I haven't tried any of it yet."

  Fletch stares at my empty hands. "Where is it?"

  "Paige took it back to our table. We're sitting with the little French kids."

  "Nice," he says sarcastically. "Nothing like a little baby-sitting at a wedding."

  "Right?" We're making small talk, but at least it's something. I sit in Reid's chair and lean slightly into Fletch. "I've never had lobster before. Is it good?"

  Fletch picks up a metal thing from the middle of the table and cracks open the lobster's claw. "Here," he says, digging out a piece of meat. "Try it."

  I take the lobster from Fletch and pop it in my mouth. It tastes like…well, it doesn't taste like chicken. It tastes lobster-y. "It's good," I say.

  Fletch laughs and breaks open another piece of lobster. "I wouldn't give it to you if it wasn't."

  "Liar."

  "Try this," Fletch has said. We were in a town just outside of New Orleans.

  "What is it?"

  "Alligator. It's really good."

  I crinkled up my nose. "No thank you."

  Fletch bit off another piece of alligator. "It's really good, Ellie."

  "Fine," I had said. "Give it to me."

  He grinned and handed over the skewer of alligator. I tore off a piece with my teeth and chewed. It was tougher than I expected. Like rubbery chicken, but it didn't taste bad. Still, I wanted no more of it.

  "Would you like more lobster, or is this going to be like the alligator all over again?" Fletch says, breaking me out of my memories. So, he remembers, too.

  "No, this is nothing like the alligator," I say. "That wasn't nearly as good."

  Fletch laughs. "Ellie Jacobs, always the adventurous eater."

  "Hey," I say. "That's not fair! I try anything once."

  "Yes, you will," he says. "But sometimes you need to be dragged kicking and screaming."

  "What's this?" Brady says, walking up to us with a plate full of crab. "Have the two of you called it a truce? Could there really be détente?"

  "We're just reminiscing, that's all," Fletch says.

  "About?" Brady asks.

  "Alligator," I say.

  Brady scrunches up his brow. "Okay. Don't tell me."

  Fletch and I laugh in unison — something we used to do all the time. I stop abruptly and look at Fletch. In the soft, glowing light his hair looks more blond, his skin more tan, his teeth fluorescent white. He basically looks beautiful. And it’s killing me.

  Brady crouches down between our chairs. "Okay," he says, "Now that the two of you are talking, can you help me with something?"

  I'm not sure I'm ready for Brady and Fletch style antics yet, but nod my head yes.

  "Can you just kiss and make up?"

  Heat flames across my face, and I'm thankful for the dim lights.

  "Oh, for the love of all things French, you two are pathetic. Fletch, you like Ellie. Ellie, you like Fletch. Why can't the two of you see it?"

  I'm dying. That's the only explanation I have for my heart thundering against my ribcage. Dying of embarrassment. And Brady doesn't even care.

  "Excuse me," I say, leaping from my seat. "I think Paige needs help at the kiddie table."

  "Ellie, wait," Brady says. But it's too late. Damage done.

  I'm halfway back to my table when a firm hand grips my upper arm. "Ellie, wait."

  Fletch.

  Why-oh-why can't he let well enough alone. The wall I'd slowly been letting down goes back up brick-by-brick.

  "Why couldn't you be the one that got away?" I whisper. "I'd be so much better off if we never happened."

  "Are you being serious? I wouldn't trade one minute I've spent with you. Even these awkward moments now. No," Fletch is barely holding on to me. I could slip away at any moment, yet I don't. "I never want to erase any of it."

  My two brown eyes search out his green ones. Before I can stop myself, I blurt, "Do you still love me?"

  "Yes."

  A little piece of the broken Ellie puzzle slips back into place, but my entire body shakes. Trembles from the words I've waited much too long to hear.

  Behind Fletch, Calista creeps nearer and nearer to us until, like a spider stalking its prey, she's on top of us. "Fletch," she says in her silky smooth voice. "You're needed back at the wedding party table."

  "Give us a minute, Cal."

  She taps her foot. "It's very important."

  "A minute," Fletch snaps. "Is that too much to ask, Calista?"

  I don't know who recoils more - me or Calista. I've never heard Fletch speak like this to her. Ever. He's always treated her kindly in front of me, at least when he wasn't trying to avoid her.

  Calista spins around like she's going to walk away, but she stops. "She'll never be good enough for you, you know that don't you?"

  Red-hot heat flares out from my heart and toward my extremities. Fuck Calista, I want to scream, but I smother it down. Smother it hard until my eyes act like leaky faucets, and tears are flowing down my cheeks.

  Fletch reaches out and flicks my tears away. “Hey,” he says. “Let me deal with whatever it is Calista needs, and I’ll come back so we can talk.”

  Once again, he’s choosing Calista over me. And once again, I let him. “Okay. I don’t know where I’ll be though.”

  “I’ll find you.”

  Good, I think. Because I have no intention of standing in the middle of the rehearsal dinner, crying. He recedes into the distance, and I’m left with an even bigger hole in my heart. And a snotty nose.

  I head out of the main pavilion and down the boardwalk to the beach. When I’m confident I’m far enough away, I drop to my knees and let the tears come.

  Why did I ask Fletch if he loved me? What was I thinking?

  And why did he answer ‘yes’?

  I’ve spent so much time hating him, I never gave much thought to what he was feeling. And that’s not me. I don’t behave like that. So why have I?

  Oh, God! What if Brady told him about all my boyfriends? What if that’s why he stayed away?

  My throat constricts, and suddenly, I have to get out of here. Before Fletch finds me. Before I can make more of an ass out of myself.

  “Ellie? What are you doing way down here?” Fletch stands off to my left.

  "I'm leaving," I say, jumping to my feet. What I don't know is if I'm leaving the party or the house or the Cape. All I know is that I need to get away.

  "Ellie, wait."

  My feet propel me forward toward the house. Fletch rushes after me, but I don't want him to comfort me right now. I need to be alone.

  I run up the stairs to the patio and fling open the back door. When I enter the house, I navigate my way through the kitchen, dining room, and great room until I'm at the foyer.

  I climb the staircase two steps at a time until I reach the landing. My flight reflex is still strong, and I want nothing more than to get out of here. I rush to my room and begin throwing my clothes in my suitcases. I just need to get away from here. From Fletch. From Calista. From everything that’s causing me pain.

  "Ellie?" Fletch bangs on my door. "Let me in, please."

  I tremble as I walk over to the door. Before I swing it open, I wipe my face with the back of my hand.

  "What do you want, Fletch?"

  "You."

  There are no words. He must feel the same because he grabs me
and pulls me close. His lips touch mine, and his body relaxes. A million thoughts float through my mind, and my body shakes. His warm lips nibble at mine, and I respond as if on auto-pilot, kissing him back, harder until I’m positive one of us will break.

  When Fletch comes up for air, he takes me by the hand and leads me out into the hallway. It's as if I'm in a dream. I'm floating, having an out-of-body experience, watching Fletch guide me down the stairs and to the great room.

  He sits me down on a sofa. Instead of sitting, I lay down, like I'm on a therapists couch. Fletch slips under my legs, so that I'm kind of draped over him.

  He rests his hand on my shin. "Everything always comes back to you. Everything."

  Chapter Thirteen

  It's just the two of us. Just Fletch and me. I have so much to say to him, so much to ask him, but right now, it's all locked away in my brain. It's as if having him with me is enough. And maybe, for now, it is.

  "Elle?" he says, drawing his hand up my leg to my kneecap. I don't pull away. How could I? I've been waiting for this moment for two years. "You know I've missed you, don't you?"

  I sit up, bringing our torsos closer together. I turn my face so that our lips are merely inches apart. "How could I? All I got from you was a few phone calls and holiday cards signed by your secretary. How is that missing me?"

  He runs his hand through his no-longer-moppy hair, and exhales. His sweet breath washes over me as he takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry. I let things I thought were important get in the way of what really was."

  It's an apology. One I can almost accept.

  Still, something bothers me, and I have to ask. "Tell me about Calista."

  Fletch turns his head, and I can count the smattering of freckles along the bridge of his nose and cheeks. "She was there for me, in a way you couldn't be, after everything happened. I relied on her more than I should have, but I didn't have you. You were always so busy, Elle. With school and now building a career for yourself. With Calista, it's never been easy, but she's always been there."

  "So you're together."

  "We never have been. I've been clear about that. She knows there's no one else in the world but you for me."

  How am I supposed to believe him? “Calista…she said that you couldn’t be bothered with me. That you realized you needed to move on and start your real life – being the CEO of Groundfloor. That you and I needed to stop pretending there could ever be more between us.”

  Fletch chokes. “She said all that?”

  “Yes.” I knot my hands together. “At your dad’s funeral .”

  Fletch closes his eyes and exhales loudly. When he flicks his eyes open, he says, “At my dad’s funeral, she said she overheard you saying you were only with me because my dad died. That you wanted to break-up, but didn’t know how.”

  “And who did I say this to?”

  “Paige.”

  “Did you ever ask Paige?” I say.

  Fletch shakes his head. “I was too grief-stricken, Elle. I had just lost my dad and took over the role of CEO. The thought of losing you, well, It was too much to bear.” He drops my hand and hangs his head. With a whisper he says, “I had a nervous breakdown.”

  “What?” I say in surprise.

  “I cracked. But Calista was there, filling my brain with nonsense, protecting me from the press, and keeping things quiet so that I could heal.”

  “How bad was it?” I ask.

  “Bad. I couldn’t get out of bed for nearly a month. I kept thinking of suicide. I didn’t know how to handle any of it - especially being away from you. And I hadn’t had a chance to make amends with my dad. I felt horrible. And overwhelmed.”

  I ball my hands into fists. All this time wasted because of Calista and her manipulative ways. And poor Fletch. When he needed me, I wasn’t there. I was to busy wallowing in the Ellie pity party Calista created.

  “That’s why you stopped communicating with me? You had a nervous breakdown?”

  “I guess so. After a few months, when I was healthy again, I didn’t know what else to do. Time had already passed, and Brady said you had moved on. That you were dating. So, what Cal said seemed plausible.”

  I sit up and take his hand. “I’m so, so, so sorry. I was only trying to numb my broken heart. The guys, the drinking - it was all a way to distract me from my pain.”

  Fletch tightens his grip on my hand. “I see that now.”

  “And I think it’s clear I never gotten over you,” I say.

  Fletch’s lips flutter over the back of my hand. “I didn’t know, Ellie. I hoped. I really did. But you never called, and I didn’t want to bother you. If you wanted a life without me, I was going to respect that.”

  My body shakes from the adrenaline coursing through it. “I was too stubborn to reach out to you.”

  “We’re here now.” His free hand moves a little higher on my bare leg, and I don’t stop him.

  "Do you remember when we escaped Harker and were driving down the freeway in Montana? You turned the radio up and sang at the top of your lungs. I had to pull over and kiss you right then and there. In the middle of nowhere, because that's how things have always been between us, Elle. You get me when no one else does."

  "Sophie told Calista—"

  "Sophie is no better than Calista. I don't honestly know what Brady sees in her."

  I cock my head in surprise. "You don't know?" Wow. Fletch really is out of the loop.

  "Know what?"

  "She's pregnant. That's why Brady is marrying her."

  Fletch leans away from me. "No way. Tell me you're kidding."

  "Wish I were."

  "How could I not know?"

  "You’re not exactly Mr. Accessible. I mean, placing a call to you requires going through your secretary who then decides if we're worthy or not."

  "It's not like that. Sharon simply screens my calls. I get so many a day—"

  "Fletch, enough. Enough with the excuses. The fact is you’re incredibly busy.”

  He hangs his head. “I know I am. I’m working on that.”

  "Hey," I say, reaching for his face and taking it between my hands. "I'm happy to see you."

  Fletch looks into my eyes, and fireworks go off in my stomach. "I've missed you, Elle. More than you can imagine." His hands are on my shoulders, and he's pulling me in for a kiss. But I sigh, and shrug away.

  "Not now," I whisper. "Not right now." I can't explain why, but I know that if we kiss again, things are going to change between us, and in this very moment, I feel a connection to Fletch that the years haven't dampened. I don't want to lose that.

  "Ellie," he whispers, tangling his fingers in my hair. "Why did I let you get away? I should never have listened to Calista."

  "I wasn't away, Fletch. I've been right here, this whole time." Waiting for you, I add in my brain, because saying it out loud sounds loser-ish.

  He drops his hand, and I feel empty, like a bit of my heart has evaporated.

  "Let's go for a walk," Fletch says.

  "I can't be your friend," I say, holding back tears. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

  "Oh, Ellie. My sweet, sweet Ellie." He takes my hands in his. "I'm not talking about being friends. I couldn't be just your friend, even if I tried."

  The more I think about what happened between Fletch and me, the less I feel I know. I thought he didn't want me, but here he is, saying that isn't the case. He never gave up on the fantasy of us.

  “Can I ask you something?” I say.

  “Anything.”

  ”Why did you shut me out during your breakdown? I could have helped you. I could have been there for you."

  "The more I listened to Calista, the more I wanted to give you your freedom. Plus, you seemed to have moved on. At least that’s what Brady was telling me. But mostly, I didn't want you trapped the way I'd been my whole life."

  "So you chose for me?"

  "I did what I thought was best. Let the reporters focus on Calista. Let them see her as th
e romantic lead in my life. She was there for me when I broke down and kept the whole mess out of the press. I owe her for that."

  I clench my jaw and close my eyes. "She hates me, Fletch."

  "Yes, she does." He trails his fingertips along the back of my hand and to the underside of my wrist. Soft shocks roll through my body.

  I've spent too many days locked in a fog, trying to forget Fletch. Everyone around me knew it, but I'm just beginning to see how hard his absence has hit my life. It's like a piece of me I didn't know was missing has suddenly been jammed back into my heart.

  He pulls me up to standing. "So that walk?"

  "Yes," I answer. "I'm done trying to forget you."

  "I never forgot you."

  With little thought of what I'm doing, I lace my fingers with his. Fletch whirls me around. "Now?" he asks.

  I slowly shake my head 'yes,' and Fletch tilts my head up. His lips press against mine, and I moan. He holds my face between his hands. "Can you let me back in? Can you bring down the Ellie wall, and just let me try to be what you expect of me? What I should have been all along."

  "Shhh," I say. "Shhh." I take his hand and lead him to the back door.

  "Ellie, are you sure?"

  I drop his hand. Something awakes inside me. I fling the door open and run out into the night. "Chase me, Fletch. Catch me."

  When I glance back over my shoulder, he's standing on the patio, his face lit by the moonlight. I turn and keep running because I know he'll come.

  He always has.

  I glance back again, and he's flying after me. I run to the water's edge and shrug off my cardigan.

  "What are you doing?" Fletch yells over the crash of the waves. "Ellie, you're not going to…"

  I toss my head back and laugh. It feels so good. Like I've finally woken up. I strip off my dress, leaving my bra and panties on. But at the last minute, tug those off too.

  Standing naked like this, with the moonlight illuminating me, makes me feel vulnerable in a way I haven't allowed myself to be in years.

  Fletch barrels toward me, pulling up short.

  "Ellie," he gasps.

  Before he can reach me, I dive into the chilly water. It's like being stabbed by a million knives, and when I surface, I struggle to catch my breath.