Going to the Chapel

by Adriana Locke

  “Don’t go,” he murmured, leaning across the table. “Not yet.”

  Her eyes clouded with disappointment as she leaned back in her seat. “Come on, Fin.”

  Fuck. Shite. And balls. He’d been so cool with her and now he’d gone and mucked it all up. And it made him angry. With himself. With her. With the whole situation of meeting a fierce, deadly American girl who fucked for fun and made him laugh and knew that DeLorean’s were made in Ireland. And he couldn’t have her. He had to let her go.

  “I guess so,” he bit out.

  “I told you—”

  “I know what you bloody told me,” he snapped, lifting the new pint of Guinness to his lips and downing a full quarter before coming up for air.

  She gulped softly, staring back at him, her expression conflicted. Finally, she whispered, like it was a secret she had no business sharing, “I had fun.”

  “Well, thank the dear Lord for that,” he muttered, feeling mean.

  Leaning to her right, she grabbed the straps of her purse and lifted them onto her shoulder, still facing him.

  “Kiss me goodbye?” she asked, standing up and staring down at him.

  He looked up at her, hating her. Hating himself more.

  Then he stood up and clasped her face in his hands, his lips falling fast and angry onto hers. He kissed her hard, right smack in the middle of the pub, ignoring the catcalls around them that grew louder as the kiss softened and turned tender; as he pulled her into his arms, sliding his tongue against hers against and again, his fingers curling into fists on her lower back as he tried to let her know—the only way he could—how much he wished they had more time.

  But they didn’t.

  When the kiss ended, she opened her eyes, and damn if they weren’t glistening. They were. Fin would stake his life on it, and it made him stupid. He rested his forehead on hers. “Stay.”

  “I can’t,” she whispered, backing out of his arms. “Goodbye.”

  He watched her go, his heart fecking hurting.

  “Mate,” said a guy at the adjacent table, his eyes sympathetic. “I think you’re fucked.”

  Fin nodded, sitting down, and chugging his beer.

  “I think you’re right.”

  THE END (for now…)

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  Keeping Secrets

  By Willow Winters

  Note from Willlow

  Keeping Secrets

  by Willow Winters

  * * *

  Fair warning before you start reading. I write gritty with twists that hold a darker edge. This short story turned into something I wasn't expecting and may be different from what you're expecting as well. Either way, I hope you enjoy it and love their tale like I do.

  1

  Ella

  * * *

  It’s all white. Everything in the bridal suite is white.

  I suppose that’s the way weddings should be. Not that I would know. It’s not my wedding.

  The sound of zippers being zipped up and hairspray being sprayed mixes with the chatter spilling from smiling, red lips.

  “The red is perfect,” Sara says, but the bride doesn’t hear. “It matches everything.” That catches the bride’s attention.

  “Nothing is done.” Her eyes are wide and nearly spilling tears. “There’s not a thing set up upstairs.”

  The bridal suite is on the first floor and the wedding will be on the second floor of this reclaimed farmhouse.

  I down the champagne still in my flute that I’ve been sipping to calm my nerves. Aiden’s going to be here, standing only a few feet from me. With pictures being taken every minute, videographers and photographers too, there’s no way I’ll be able to deny what I feel for him when the pictures are printed. Aiden’s always said he can read the truth in my eyes.

  What’s the saying? Wearing your emotions on your sleeve? I absolutely do that, and even if this dress doesn’t have sleeves, my emotions will be there, ready to show every one of the guests at the wedding exactly how I feel for a long-lost ex. They know he was my everything and they think him going to war is what broke us apart.

  But they don’t know the truth.

  “I’m sure they’re getting everything set up. There are still five hours before the guests come, and they can set everything in half that amount of time,” I quickly say to Viv, the bride, and my best friend. Her pale blue eyes whip to mine, pleading with me to tell her that’s the absolute truth.

  “Seriously, it doesn’t take long and everything will be perfect.”

  “I don’t think the cake is here yet,” one of the other bridesmaids says as she walks into the suite. The phone in her hand has her attention as the door clicks shut and everyone stays silent, waiting for the bride to go off at one more setback, that’s not at all a setback.

  “I need to call her, right now.” Viv storms off and away from me, her silk white robe clutched at her chest. So, I settle back in the corner, nestle in my chair, and pretend not to think of Aiden, the counterpart to me, and a groomsman in the wedding.

  He came back a different man, but the man I love was still there. I’ve been desperate for the love we once had, but we can’t show love for one another with our kinds of secrets.

  “Hey.” I hear Lauren before I see her, and then hear the champagne as she pours it into my empty flute. “You okay?”

  Her makeup is flawless, a perfectly plucked brow raised as she waits for me to answer her, pulling a chair closer to me.

  I have to clear my throat and take a sip of the sweet bubbly before I can look her in the eye.

  “Just nerves,” I answer her with a faint shrug and forced smile. “I swear I’m more nervous than Viv is,” I joke.

  Lauren’s gaze wanders across my face, judging me for honesty, and I’m sure I fail her test. Her words are softly spoken, “You haven’t been the same since the party last week.”

  A thump and a flutter compete in my heart and my throat closes as she asks, “Is it because of Aiden? I know you guys have been together on and off, right?”

  She’s pushing for answers; answers I won’t give. I’m not ready to, not today of all days.

  I won’t do or say anything at all to make a scene at Viv’s wedding. I would feel fucking awful if I did. She and Jason have been together since high school and this day is far overdue.

  Lauren’s right, though. I haven’t been the same since the party. The joint bachelor and bachelorette party.

  That night changed everything. I knew it would never be the same when I walked into the crowded room, but I only felt the presence of one man. Aiden’s eyes were on me before I’d even slipped my pea coat off. As the thin wool slipped down my bare shoulders, I watched his gaze turn into that of a predator, sizing me up as his prey.

  The music was loud, the laughter louder, but I swear I could hear how his breathing hitched. His crisp dress shirt pulled tighter across his broad shoulders and with his shirt sleeves rolled up, I could see how the muscles in his forearms tightened as he gripped the armrest when I walked past him to go to Lauren and Viv, in the far corner of the room.

  They were focused on their
martinis. I was focused on how Aiden’s gray eyes pierced through me and how his tight grip turned his knuckles white.

  I have to remind myself where I am and who I’m with before I let my thoughts get away from me. Slipping my hand to the dip in my throat and then lower, I let my fingers trace what’s hanging on the end of my necklace, tucked just beneath the thin silk of the robe.

  “I’m fine,” I tell her shaking out my hands and plastering a wide smile onto my face. “Her being tense and anxious is just working me up.”

  “Okay, keep your secrets. I have a bet with Amy that you’re fucking him, just so you know.”

  “She thinks you two fucked that night,” Lauren’s gaze stays glued to my face, waiting for a confirmation.

  Although my heart races, I play along with Lauren’s goading.

  No one knows what happened the night of the party. And I don’t know if I can keep this secret, one of many, for that long. Not when I know I’m going to see him.

  “You two make the stupidest bets,” I tell her with an evil grin and then lean in to confess to her in a hushed whisper, “And don’t you know I’m a virgin?”

  She outright laughs at my joke, even though it makes my heart pound harder.

  “Nothing, absolutely nothing, is ready,” Viv shrieks with a cracked voice before dropping her phone to the ground and falling onto the sofa across the bridal suite.

  I take that as my cue, grateful for the distraction. Standing up abruptly, I’m quick to talk over everyone else, trying to comfort her.

  “I’ll go find the event coordinator right now.” I can feel Lauren’s eyes on me, but I ignore her and wrap the tie of my robe tighter so I can leave the room and feel somewhat decently covered. We all have matching scarlet robes, other than the bride’s white one of course.

  “What’s her name again?” I ask.

  “Sheryl,” Viv’s voice is weak but hopeful. She’s not a bridezilla per say, but she’s certainly emotional today.

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” I tell her and give her a small smile as I head to the door, “But I'll get a timeline and a checklist.” With a firm nod, I exit and nearly collapse against the door. With my own emotions running wild, I lean against the hardwood and breathe for a moment, the faint chatter of voices muffled behind me, and the clanging of folding tables being set up echoing through the wooden ceiling above me.

  Aiden is somewhere close. Somewhere smoking cigars and laughing with Jason, joking about how he’s ending his bachelor days. I can do this I remind myself. I have to. After tonight, things will be different. No more hiding, no more secrets.

  I don’t know how they can’t read it on my face.

  I’ve kept secrets before, but not like this. But we all do foolish things for the ones we love.

  2

  Aiden

  * * *

  I’d recognize her voice in a crowd anywhere, at any time. Even the soft hum that spills from her lips when she’s listening to a good story.

  “And the centerpieces will be placed like this. She wants the larger candle on the inside,” I hear Ella say calmly as I stand at the bottom of the stairwell. The florist gives me a simple smile as she continues to pin ivory tulle up along the railing. It looks like she’s just gotten started.

  I know the bridal suite is in the back, but I take the stairs one at a time, following the sweet voice as her words drift down the stairwell.

  “I’ve got it all and it’s all under control. Please tell her not to worry.” A tall woman in a silver tweed suit with her hair up in a tight bun stands beside Ella as I peek around the corner, “It’s all under control,” she repeats.

  My eyes drift to the short silk robe, and then lower to the tanned legs on full display.

  “I told her that already, but now that I’ve talked to you, I’m sure she’ll feel better,” Ella smiles, her long brunette hair already pinned up and braided. Just seeing that gorgeous smile and the flush of her cheeks tugs at the corner of my lips. My gaze drifts down her chest to her slender fingers, and my cock hardens instantly.

  I lose control around Ella, I always have. She has a way of bringing out a side of me that’s possessive and unpredictable.

  I’d do anything to have her and keep her. But what she does to me… I groan low and deep in my chest as I watch the staff leave her all alone in the expansive room upstairs. There’s not a soul in sight but her.

  My jaw clenches, remembering how I lost control at the party, in the back laundry room.

  Everything in the last two years disappeared into nothing and all I knew was that I needed her to be mine again.

  I wanted everyone to know it. I wanted them to hear her scream my name. Instead, she clawed down my back and sank her teeth into my neck, leaving a bruised mark as I fucked her ruthlessly.

  Precum leaks from me while remembering how good it felt to have her against the wall, pounding into her tight cunt while everyone we knew was just beyond a thin wall.

  Before I can turn the corner, two men carrying a large white box enter, their simple black shirts have a cake on the front of them. And on cue, Ella claps her hands in delight, elated that the wedding cake has arrived.

  “I’ll go tell the bride,” she tells them with a pep in her step that I haven’t seen in so long. A darkness has clouded my judgment for years. I didn’t know enlisting in the Army would change everything. Not just how I felt about Ella, but how I feel about myself and everything I’ve done.

  I never questioned whether or not I would love her still. I always knew I would. There’s nothing that could have taken me from her, or so I thought.

  Ella disappears down a small hall, heading down the back stairwell, and so I turn around, going back the way I came.

  Running a hand down the stubble of my jaw, I take the path that leads me to her. Taking my time so she’ll be there before I am. Although, I didn’t come for her, I have to remind myself.

  My knuckles rapped against the door to the suite, knock knock knock.

  “Who is it?” a few voices call out at once and someone tells me, “If it’s the groom tell him to fuck off. He can’t see her yet!”

  A genuine smile is stamped on my face when the door opens two inches. “I’m serious,” Lauren says, and I respond, “It’s just me. Should I fuck off too?”

  She cocks a brow and takes a peek behind her. I know she’s looking to find Ella and the smile slips. Soon they’ll look at us differently. They’ll never understand, but they won’t deny what she is to me.

  Soon everything will go back to the way it was supposed to be.

  “Her husband-to-be isn’t anywhere near.” I pick up the small black, velvet box from my pocket and hold it in front of me, “I just have a gift.”

  Vivian pushes Lauren out of the way, pulling the door open wider and staring up at me with wide eyes, “From Jason?” she asks breathlessly.

  My brow cocks as I say, “Maybe ‘gift’ was the wrong word.” I clear my throat and give her a tight smile as the excitement drains from her expression. “I was told the ring was needed. For the ring bearer?” Jason needed someone to deliver it, and I was more than happy to oblige.

  I’m not sure Vivian ever liked me, even though Jason was my best friend for as long as I can remember. She took him away when we were in high school, but she gave me something in return during our first year of college.

  Ella. Her friend she thought would hit it off with me. She had no idea how right she would be. Sweet and quiet, but full of vulnerability, Ella was perfect for me. It only took a single date, a single kiss to know it. Even if she did make me wait for months to have her.

  Still, she was perfect and I knew one day she’d be my wife.

  The thought splinters the barely-healed crack in my heart. The pain of losing her never leaves.

  Vivian turns her back to me, searching in a large cardboard box for something, not bothering to tell me to come in, so I stand where I am, waiting.

  When I broke up with Ella, knowing it was what I
needed to do when I came back from the war, Viv didn’t hide her hate for me. And I get it. She found out who I was related to on the same day. Ella told her everything, so she knew the moment that Ella knew. A sad smile tugs at my lips. Viv didn’t know everything of course. How could she? She wasn’t Ella; she couldn’t read the truth between the lines like Ella could.

  I wish I could take it back. I wish I could change it all.

  It took years of therapy to learn you can never go back. You can only take advantage of the day you’re living. Tomorrow is never promised.

  “I’ll take that,” the bride’s sister-in-law tells me, slipping closer to me and yanking the box from my hand. It’s her son that’ll be walking down the aisle. “I’ve already got the box,” she tells me.

  I can feel Ella’s gaze on me, begging me to look at her, to speak to her, to give her more than I am now.

  Scratching the back of my head and attempting to make Viv a friend again, I tell her, “You look beautiful, Viv. The blushing bride suits you well.”

  As if she truly wanted to play the part, she blushes shyly. “He’s going to go crazy when he sees you,” I add.

  “We have a bet going that he’s going to cry,” Lauren says, leaning against the back wall and grinning.

  “Do you really think so?” she asks genuinely and I nod.

  “He’s lucky to have you, Viv,” I tell her and mean it. What they have is love. I know exactly what it feels like and what it looks like. When you can’t go to sleep because you only want to sleep next to one person who’s miles away. When you hear their voice and everything else goes quiet so you can focus on the cadence of their voice and try to remember the sound for as long as you can. Jason didn’t join the Army; he didn’t go through a long-distance relationship like Ella and I did. But he looks at Viv the same way I used to look at Ella.