by BJ Harvey
Ah shit.
We park by the beach and sit down on the sand, eating our food and taking in the view of the lake. I’m so wound up from hearing her talk to Wyatt, I’m kicking myself for waiting so long to find out exactly why Sarah was on her way to marry him. I went into this whole evening blind, not knowing what I was up against other than breaking her heart sixteen years ago. Yes we slept together, but I’m not a fool, I know that doesn’t mean everything will be fine.
What I do know about this grown-up Sarah is that she doesn’t like my parents, but then again, I don’t either. She’s a US citizen, so doesn’t need to get married for a green card, so unless it’s some ploy to get a secret inheritance, I cannot work out why she was on a train and going to City Hall to marry her very gay best friend. I’d almost been able to put the thought out of my mind after the sex and make-out sessions, but hearing Wyatt’s name has put me on edge again.
The sound of her soda can crunching in her fist jars me out of my thoughts, my head snapping her way. “What’s—”
She squares her shoulders and narrows her eyes at me. “What’s wrong? Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you brought me here with the promise of talking, and I’ve been trying to start a conversation with you for the past ten minutes and all I’ve managed to get is a few grunts and a ‘hmm’.”
“I was eating.”
“You were stewing. So either tell me what crawled up your butt or I’m gonna call a cab and take the pizza with me.”
Looks like the time to hash this out is now. “Okay then. Why were you getting married today?” She goes to reply and hesitates, her mouth agape. “Because I know Wyatt bats for the other team, and I’m not talking about the White Sox.”
“He’s a Cubs fan through and through.”
“I remember. Now stop trying to change the subject.”
She leans on her arms and stretches her long legs out in front of her, eyes set on the water. “He’s helping me out with something.”
I put my hand on hers and wait till she looks back at me. “By getting married?” I ask. “Because the Sarah I knew way back when valued marriage and everything it meant.”
“Yeah, and I only felt that way because I thought I knew who I’d be marrying.”
I flinch at her direct hit, seeing first hand just how much I hurt her when I left. “I deserve that.”
She shakes her head and sits up straight. “No, you don’t. That was a low blow.”
“But an accurate one. I knew I’d hurt you when I left, but had I stayed, I wouldn’t have been the man you needed me to be—the man I wanted to be for you. But I always knew I’d come back for you.”
“Just sixteen years later,” she deadpans. “And even then, it wasn’t on purpose. You just happened to see me on the train. You weren’t searching for me.”
“I should’ve handled it better, but I didn’t have much of a choice back then, Sarah.”
“I know that,” she grinds out. “But we had plans, Cam. I knew you were struggling with your parents and their expectations, but I thought you’d at least talk to me about it before making such a life-changing decision like joining the army.”
I let that sink in, not sure how—if ever—she’ll forgive me, and if there’s any hope of us getting past this. I’d hoped that by spending time together today, I’d get to show her how good we could be now, or at least persuade her to let me prove it to her.
I’ve spent days in the desert facing the most dangerous of combatants but that’s nothing compared to the battle that’s fallen into my lap today. It was always going to happen—it’s just that fate stepped in, threw me the ball, and forced me to run with it.
I make a decision to shelve the subject and move back to the one that has the biggest potential to stop our reunion before it has a chance to gain traction. Time to get down to it then.
Closing the pizza box, I move it out of the way and shift sideways until I’m only a few inches away from her.
“Sez, I need you to tell me why you’re marrying Wyatt, and I don’t want you to brush me off. I want the truth.”
“You can’t handle the truth.” She offers a weak smile, and I grit my teeth so hard I swear I’m close to chewing concrete.
“Sarah…” I growl.
“Sorry. I make unfortunate movie quotes when I’m uncomfortable.”
“Tell me why.”
“Look, if I want to marry Wyatt, or anybody else for that matter, it’s my decision. You want to know why I’m doing this? I have to do this, all because of your father’s roaming eye and loose belt.”
My head jerks so far back you’d swear I’d been hit by an eighteen-wheeler. “What did you say?”
“Dad was laid off because of your father’s indiscretions. Had you not left me all those years ago, I’d have you at my back. I’d have you to hold me up and help me through times like this. I wouldn’t have to worry about my parents having their house sold out from underneath them because you would’ve been there to stop anything from ever getting this far.”
“How far?”
“Me marrying Wyatt for money.”
“I’m here now.”
“But I don’t have you. I haven’t had you for the past sixteen years. You’re not my husband like I thought you would be. You left, and now you’re back, and you’re different. You’ve changed…”
I slide forward, resting my hands on her arms and holding her in place, even when she tries to shrug me off. “Look at me.”
“Now my dad can’t find work and Mom can’t work because of her Lupus, and they can’t sell their house because there’s a lien on their house title and—”
“Sarah, look. At. Me.” I punctuate each word with a squeeze of my fingers.
She lifts her gaze to mine. The connection between us clicks into place, the pull I’ve felt between us from the moment I saw her as a twelve-year-old girl as strong as steel, and from the look in her eyes, I know I’m not the only one feeling it.
“Tell me this—if you’re so over me, why are you here? Why ditch everything to come along with me on this crazy ride down Memory Lane?” Leaning into her space, I drop my lips and brush them gently against hers, moving to deepen the kiss when she jumps back and to her feet.
“I can’t. We can’t. Not right now.”
I stand up and pace, trying to gather my thoughts—and wits.
“Maybe later, like waaaay later. Once I’ve done what I’ve gotta do, gotten the loan and Dad’s got a job, and I’m single. Maybe then we can try this again, when I’ve got time to focus and not worry about everything that’s going wrong in my life.”
I’m in shock; I can’t possibly be hearing her right. “You can’t be serious? You want to ‘try this again’ when you’ve done everything you need to do to help your parents? Like marry a man you don’t want to spend the rest of your life with?” Hell can fucking freeze over before I’ll let that happen.
Her eyes fill with tears, and my anger vanishes seeing her so upset. I step forward to touch her, consumed by the need to ease her pain but she moves back and shakes her head before I can get close. “It can’t happen right now, Cam. It’s not going to work. Now’s just not the time.”
Hello anger, my old friend. Back so soon? “Now’s not the time? When would be the time, Sez? I’ve done everything in my power since I’ve been back Stateside to become the man I always wanted to be, for you. Not once since the day I left have you been far from my mind. And the moment Wyatt called and said that he wasn’t coming today, I decided it was a sign that I needed to pull my head out of my ass and make my move. That’s what today was about—me making my move and reminding you that you’re destined to be mine and only mine.
“I can be that man and give you everything you will ever want and need, and still be able to hold my head up high knowing that I’m the one giving it to you. Me—not my name, not my father or his company—all me.”
She’s stock still but I’m too far gone.
“Do you know that not once
today have you mentioned Wyatt? You have finally only just told me why you’re doing it, and it’s not like we haven’t talked during these past eight hours. We’ve talked a lot. We’ve done a lot. So either you don’t believe in me enough to know that I would do anything in my power to help you, if you asked, or—”
“You slept with me not knowing if I was cheating with you?”
Shit, that really doesn’t sound good when she puts it that way.
I mustn’t hide my reaction very well because her eyes grow large as her head jerks back. “You actually thought it was possible?” she shrieks.
“No…”
“You thought that because I wasn’t getting married today, you might as well try and stake your claim and get in there rather than—oh, I don’t know—knocking on my damn door sometime in the past two years?”
“It’s not like that.”
“No, it isn’t, and it won’t be. How about I save you some time then? I will be marrying Wyatt as soon as possible. I will be doing everything I have to do to fix what your father broke in my parents’ lives, and what I won’t be doing is standing here for even one more minute listening to you try to sell me on the fact that you were so determined to make me yours that you waited two years to track me down.”
This time I quickly close the distance between us and get my hand on her arm, pulling her in and slamming my mouth down on hers. It’s the only thing I can think of to stop her from saying something neither of us can come back from.
Barely a second passes before she wrenches free and out of arm’s reach. “Don’t touch me,” she says, her voice a rough whisper as she holds her fingers to her lips. “Don’t do anything, Cam. Just let it go.” She waves her hand between us. “Please, Cameron. Let me go. Let me do what I have to do, and we’ll leave whatever this was as a good blast from the past.” She turns away from me, putting her arms around herself as she looks out over the lake.
“I can’t do that, Sez.” I can’t stop myself. I cover her back with my body and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her close to me.
She doesn’t say anything. We stand there in silence as we watch the boat lights shine in the distance.
“I don’t ever want to let you go again,” I whisper against her temple just before placing a soft kiss against her skin. It’s then I feel the first teardrop on my arm.
“You have to Cam. It’s the only way.”
I survived a war zone in Afghanistan but one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do was walk away from Sarah Mason all those years ago.
Now I know exactly how it must’ve felt for her because last night, the shoe was on the other foot and it was me who had to watch her walk into her building and not know if I’d ever see her again.
The first thing I did this morning was call my brother, asking him to track down Wyatt’s phone number for me, with the promise that I’d tell Cade everything the first chance I could.
It took him less than an hour to get back to me, and now it’s 12 p.m. and I figure it’s a safe bet that Wyatt will either be awake and getting ready for his shift, or at work already.
“Hello?”
“Wyatt?”
“You’ve got ’im. Who’s this?”
“Cameron Carsen.”
“Hey.” His voice goes from cheerful to soft, almost sad. “Bet I know why you’re calling me after all these years, and it’s not because you’re jumping the fence to play on my side of the gay.”
I laugh; I can’t help it. Wyatt was always funny as hell, and it’s good to know he hasn’t changed. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. I have no problem with your side of the fence but it’s just not for me.”
“And the reason why was still hiding away in her room when I left to come to work.”
“I have a favor to ask, and I really hope you’ll be able to help me with it.”
“If it’s talking my best friend out of buying stock in Kleenex, Jose Cuervo, and We-Vibe, then we’re both on the same page.”
“Tissues, Tequila and…?”
“Vibrators, dude. You’re going to need to work on that knowledge before you take her off my hands.”
“You haven’t changed, have you?”
“Not really. I’ve got better taste in men these days, but that’s about it.”
Not wanting to be rude, but needing to focus, I get right to the point. “I need you not to go to City Hall with Sarah.”
“Well that’s a no-brainer,” he says, deadpan. I chuckle. “But coming up with fake reasons why I can’t isn’t going to hold up for much longer.”
Much longer? Then I have a lightbulb moment.
“You didn’t get caught up at the hospital yesterday, did you?”
He laughs. “I actually did, but the moment I heard you had walked back into her life, I had already started brainstorming excuses to use. I have enough to last a week already.”
“It’s not going to take me that long. I’ve already put in some calls this morning, and I have a meeting this afternoon. All I need you to do is stall her till Monday.”
“What’s happening on Monday?”
“Monday is going to be the first chance you get to take her to City Hall.”
“Hold up. You want me to take her to get married?”
“I said take her there, not marry her. No one else gets to slide a ring on her finger but me.”
“Does that mean what I think it means? Because as her best friend, I’d expect you to ask my permission,” he says.
“If I remember rightly, I told you I was going to marry her way back in senior year.”
“So you did, but then you went off to play GI Joe, and broke her sweet little heart.”
“And yesterday, she proved that she has it in her to forgive me. I’m just speeding up the process by getting rid of everything that’s in her way to get right on that.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not. Just keep her close; make sure she doesn’t do something rash like move to St Croix or something before Monday, and I’ll take care of everything else.”
He doesn’t answer straight away. He lets me sweat for a good minute before he puts me out of my misery. “Can I trust you?”
“You can. I’ve never been untrustworthy.”
“Good point, soldier boy. Okay, I’ll do it, but I have one question for you.”
“Anything you want, Wyatt. It’s yours.”
“Just tell me—do all you hotties really shower together over there?”
“Bye, Wyatt. Two p.m. Monday, City Hall. See you then,” I say, trying hard—and failing—not to laugh.
I hang up and sit back in my chair, raking my hands over my face as everything I have to do—and when I have to get it all done by—dawns on me. I have four days to make sure the first and only woman I’ve ever loved has no reason to say no to me come Monday afternoon.
Piece of cake, right?
As much as I’ve tried to garner enough enthusiasm to go ahead with the much-needed marriage ceremony with Wyatt, every time I even broach the subject in my own mind, my eyes drift to what was supposed to be my fake wedding dress lying on my floor, the zip still broken.
Wyatt held my hand, let me cry on his shoulder, and made sure my shot glass was never without tequila after I came home from my night with Cameron. He let me fall asleep in his arms on the couch and then carried me to bed. He even let Mister Mistoffelees into my room for the night instead of stealing her for himself.
The next night, he didn’t come home, sending me a text to say he was staying at Mark’s place that night and wouldn’t be back till Saturday.
That ruled out any fake wedding until at least Monday at the earliest since he told me he’d be working Saturday and Sunday this week.
I started going through the seven stages of grief the moment I woke up Thursday morning. Deep down I knew that with the way I’d left things with Cameron the night before, if I went ahead with marrying Wyatt, there would be no coming back from it. For Cam, marriage is for lif
e, he told me that years ago, and his reaction to my current plans for holy matrimony confirms that his opinion has not changed.
I went from shock and denial, pain and guilt, anger and bargaining, depression and reflection, to the upward turn. I reorganized, decluttered, and redesigned my whole bedroom, skipping past reconstruction and heading straight into acceptance.
Now it’s Monday, and having reached the acceptance stage last night, I know that today is the day that I need to go ahead with my marriage to Wyatt if there’s any hope of saving Mom and Dad’s house. I even put my big girl panties on and hand-sewed a new zipper into the dress. If that’s not acceptance, I don’t know what is.
Knocking on Wyatt’s door, I hear a grumble come from inside and slowly turn the handle, only to be met with Mark’s lily-white ass standing beside the bed and Wyatt doing god knows what.
“Shit! Sorry!” I shriek, moving out and closing the door behind me quicker than humanly possible.
They both crack up laughing behind the wall and I run back to my room and barricade myself in, all while dying of embarrassment.
It’s then I just happen to look out my window to see the same teenage boy in an equally compromising position on his couch, his hand in a place no neighbor—let alone a thirty-five-year-old woman—should ever see.
I scream, quickly closing my eyes and rushing over to close the curtains—again. What is it about days I plan to get married starting off on the wrong foot?
I crawl back into my bed and bury myself under the covers, seriously considering that the universe is trying to tell me something about this plan of mine.
Then I think back to Cam being on this mattress with me, the way he made it feel like we had never been apart. It was as if our feelings for each other had never switched off, we’d somehow simply pushed pause.
Did I make a mistake with him? Could there be another way?
Ten minutes later, my door creaks and I’m joined under the covers by a now fully-dressed Wyatt.