Moore To Love

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by Faith Andrews


  Hudson raises his glass and we all follow his lead. “To happiness!” Before he brings the glass to his lips he shoots me a wink that holds a different meaning than any of the others that have come before it.

  “To happiness,” I repeat, raising my glass and then gulping it down in one smooth swallow.

  Everyone who’s toasted slams their empties down on the bar and scurries for a lemon slice to chase away the burn of the alcohol. A familiar favorite, mixed with the beat of yet another favorite, swirls from the speakers. “No way! I love this song!” I throw my hands in the air and wince from the fire in my chest, but accept it for what it is. A natural, God given reaction to living life to the fullest. To having fun. To being happy.

  The instant flood of emotions sends me into Hudson’s arms for an impulsive, thank-you-for-being-a-friend hug. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him. The visceral smile that paints my lips can’t be mistaken for anything other than a moment of unabashed joy. There’s just one thing missing. I wish Lane was here to experience it with me.

  Be careful what you wish for, Leni.

  When I open my eyes I’m stunned still. I’m not sure if it’s an apparition, a joke, or a figment of my warped imagination but Lane is freaking here. At the wedding. In a tuxedo. Looking at me. In Hudson’s arms.

  “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” I CURSE, pushing off Hudson’s chest and backing away from our embrace. Our extremely platonic embrace. An embrace that from the eyes of a scorned boyfriend probably looks anything but platonic, and very, very guilty.

  “What’s the matter?” Hudson asks and then catches my line of vision. He turns and sees Lane frozen in the doorway with his hands in his pockets as if he’s deciding whether or not he’s welcome. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.”

  “I thought he had a family emergency?”

  “Uh. About that. I lied.” I ignore Hudson’s confusion and set my sights on Lane.

  He’s tense, his jaw visibly clenching even from this distance. With one more disappointed glance our way, he turns and starts in the opposite direction.

  “I have to go to him.” I don’t bother with an explanation or an excuse. I refuse to let more miscommunication or assumptions screw this up.

  As I hurry through the crowd of clueless relatives and random guests, it feels as though I’m running in slow motion and can’t get to Lane fast enough. Like in those terrifying dreams where you’re trying your absolute hardest to get away from something but you’re eerily motionless. Only this time, I want my fears to catch up with me and allow me to stare them right in the face. Fears. Hopes. Wounds. Desires. Lane encompasses them all and I’ve never been more ready to confront them than I am in this moment.

  “Lane! Wait!” I call out when I enter the vestibule. His back is toward me, already one foot out the door to the garden where the cocktail hour was held. I’m so tired of seeing this version of him—leaving. It’s time he knows how badly I want him to stay. For good.

  “Please, Lane. Don’t go.” This time he stops walking but still doesn’t turn to face me.

  I walk over to him, catching my breath and gathering some modicum of composure. Reaching out to touch him, I think twice and retreat. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  “Really? Are you? Because it certainly didn’t look that way.” His shoulders gracefully rise and fall with long, deep breaths.

  “I know what it looked like, but—” I won’t do this to his back. Face to face. Truth. That’s how this has to be done. “Please look at me,” I plead, placing a quivering hand on his shoulder.

  This gets him to turn to me, but the pain on his face makes me wish he hadn’t. “You are such a hypocrite. You find out I’m not perfect so you run to someone who is.”

  His words sting, but I deserve them. Even though they’re the furthest thing from the truth. I peer down at my peep-toe shoes and summon the courage to do this right without sticking my big toe in the kisser. “Will you come outside with me and let me explain?”

  “Why should I?” he snaps. “You didn’t give me the decency to explain myself when you jumped to conclusions and let your emotions run high. Maybe this isn’t worth it, Leni. Maybe the two of us just aren’t meant to be. It seems we do more leaving and lying than anything else.”

  It’s a sad reality, but it doesn’t have to be this way. “You’re right. I don’t deserve the chance to explain myself. I probably don’t even deserve you, but if you give me a chance, I can make this right. All of it. That’s all I want.”

  His eyes flutter and then close. His nostrils flare as he inhales and then releases a weighty breath. He opens his mouth to speak but clamps it shut as his eyes go wide.

  “Is everything all right out here, Leni?”

  I spin around to find Hudson eye-balling Lane as he rocks back and forth on the heels of his Ferragamos.

  “Blackman. Perfect timing, as always.” Lane rakes his fingers through his hair and huffs.

  I wave a dismissive hand and shake my head. “We’re fine. Could you please leave us alone to talk?” I don’t want to be a jerk now that Hudson and I have finally come to an understanding, but his presence is making matters worse and there’s already enough evidence to persecute me in the court of She’s Fucked.

  Hudson must sense my frustration because he nods and offers, “Of course. If you’d like some privacy, there’s an unoccupied bridal suite back that way.” He smiles at me but it fades slightly when he returns his gaze to Lane.

  I mouth a silent thank you and turn to Lane for approval.

  “Fine,” he finally says, his features relaxing as he takes stock of the amicable vibe between Hudson and me.

  “The room’s yours for as long as you need it.” Hudson gestures in the direction of the suite. “Would you like me to let someone know where you are so they don’t worry?”

  “Just tell Tatum that Lane is here. She’ll understand.” I offer a tight smile, grab Lane by the hand, and start walking.

  When Hudson is out of earshot, Lane asks, “Why is he offering up the room like he owns the joint?”

  “Well, he kind of does. He bought the place today. That’s why he’s here.”

  “You mean—he’s not here with you?”

  “Nope. I told you it’s not what you think.”

  “I’m so damn confused. I’ve never been more confu—”

  “I tend to have that effect on people. Come on. This must be it. I’ll explain everything.”

  Ten minutes after I’ve given him the entire rundown about Hudson, Lane is out of the dark and way more open to hearing me out. “When I saw you with him, you don’t know what that did to me. I had to pull it together or I would’ve made a very unnecessary scene in front of your whole family. Luckily my temper isn’t as bad as what I thought I saw.”

  “That’s one of the things I love about you,” I admit, palming Lane’s clean-shaven cheek in my hand. I fear he’ll back away from my touch, but he doesn’t and that sparks a hope inside me that was snuffed out a few days ago.

  Cupping his hand over mine, Lane’s eyes drift over my body and then return to mine. “I’ve missed you so much. I know it’s only been days, but when you left, and then didn’t answer my calls, I didn’t know what to do.”

  “I’m so sorry I reacted the way I did. It’s my own fault for letting my past get the best of me. I know now that my insecurities are my own worst enemy. You couldn’t have known that and you did nothing wrong. I’m the only one at fault here and I’ll apologize a million times if I have to just to prove how much—” I can’t hold the words back anymore. I have to tell him. He needs to know. “I love you, Lane.”

  His eyes flicker with something beautiful. I know. He knows. I’m certain from that look alone that he’s in love with me, too. But I can’t expect him to jump back into the way things were before I screwed everything up with my issues.

  Lane swallows a large, visible lump. For a moment I expect him to succumb to the moment and pick up where we left off, but his gaze tr
ails off to the far end of the room and my stomach sinks when he doesn’t repeat the same phrase. “How can you love me when you don’t know all of me?”

  Oh, Lane. Why did I ever walk away from you? “I want to know all of you. I’ll never turn my back on you again. I ran for the wrong reasons. Not because of what I saw or who you are.”

  “Who I was,” he corrects.

  It’s obvious we’re more alike than we even know. If anyone understands how painful it is to hold on to a version of yourself that’s defined you for the better part of your life, it’s me. By some tiny miracle, I’ve finally found a way to accept who I am. I’d love to be the person to help Lane along that journey, too. “Tell me about him. I’m ready to hear all about it. Because, Lane, no matter what those scars mean or who you were in the past, I am in love with the man you are right now. And I don’t know how or why you chose me, but if you give me another chance to be yours, I’ll never question it again.”

  His acceptance is wordless, his forgiveness is a kiss, and his confession of love is his embrace. Lane’s mouth crashes against mine and his hands tug at the loose curls dangling from my up-do. I almost—almost—forgot how perfect our lips move together. No one and nothing can convince me that this man was not made for me and I for him. Not even the secrets he kept from me about his scars.

  “I love you, too, Leni,” he whispers against my lips and brings his hands to my face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about the surgery and my weight loss. I was so wrapped up in falling for you that I almost forgot I ever had those skeletons in my closest. I wasn’t lying when I told you that you make all of that disappear.

  “Before you walked out, I was certain that if I’d met you back in Tuscarora you would’ve loved me for me, even at my heaviest, before the Lap Band. You have no idea how I wish I had known you when I was eighteen. Things might have been different, but—I don’t know. I wasn’t happy for a long time.

  “My weight was an issue all through adolescence. And the kids weren’t nice. I was picked on, name-called, stereotyped; think of the worst and that’s what I went through. The whole ordeal prevented me from living the teenage-boy dream. Sports, dates, popularity. I wish I could do it all over. See myself differently and not let any of that negativity get in the way of being normal.” Lane looks down at the ground for a split second and then returns his eyes to mine. Empathy isn’t always a good thing. I feel as if I’m reliving a lot of my own childhood by listening to him. I don’t say anything because I sense there’s more he’d like to finally get off his chest.

  “I can’t say there was one particular breaking point that pushed me to making my decision. It was more a culmination of everything I’d gone through and not being strong enough to deal with the ridicule anymore. I was ashamed of the weight. I wanted it gone. Quick and easy. I couldn’t be stuck inside a body that was hindering me from being the real person hiding beneath the fat all those years. Maybe if I’d known you then, you could’ve helped me do things differently, but in the long run, I’m happy with my decision. And I’m happy that our paths crossed when they did because you made me believe that the person I am on the inside has nothing to do with the person I am on the outside.”

  “You do know that had we met all those years ago we’d both be larger than life, and not in a good way. I’m a pretty bad influence when it comes to food.”

  Lane laughs through his nose and then licks his lips as he brushes a strand of hair off my face. “You’re nothing but an amazing influence, Leni. You fill me with a happiness I never thought I’d find.”

  It seems so simple when he says it that way, but on paper I still feel like we’re the mismatched couple of the century. “But you’re so healthy and fit, and from the outside you’d never know you used to be heavy. I still can’t wrap my head around why you want to be with me. Don’t you think you can do better?”

  With a strong grip on my shoulders, Lane stares into my eyes with purpose. “I can’t possibly do better when I already have the best. When I look at you, I see a gorgeous, funny, talented woman with a heart of gold and the purest of love to give. And no matter what you believe, I never settled when it came to you. You’re crazy to ever think I could love you by default.”

  This erases any doubts I once had but also makes me feel terrible for running away when he needed me most. “I’m so sorry I dredged up old hurts. My reaction was callous and I’ll never forgive myself for walking out on you the way I did. I have a tendency to blame my weight on everything that goes wrong in my life, if you haven’t noticed that yet.”

  Lane shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “That needs to stop. Now. I can’t have my girlfriend thinking of herself as anything other than the knockout she is. I say we chalk this whole thing up to one big misunderstanding and forget it ever happened. I’m ready to leave the past where it belongs and move on. What do you think?”

  What do I think? I think I’m getting off too easy, but mama didn’t raise no fool. I’ll take it! “I think that sounds even better than McDonald’s announcing their all-day breakfast menu.”

  “That good, huh?” Lane laughs, pulling me against him. “Can you promise me something?”

  “Anything,” I say, certain that no request from Lane is too much to fulfill.

  “No more lies. No more secrets. And definitely no more of that I’m not good enough for you crap. You could never be someone’s consolation prize, babe. You’re the first place trophy. Every, single bit of you.”

  The meaning behind that is not lost on me, especially when his hand travels down the curve of my spine and grabs a big chunk of my booty.

  “All of me, huh? You sure about that? I have a tendency to teeter back and forth more than Oprah did in the 90’s.”

  “I’m positive.” He smiles. “You’re stronger than your insecurities, Leni. I guess that’s something we both have to keep reminding each other.”

  Well, I’ll be. “Did Ashley get to you with her Joel Osteen obsession?”

  “Joel who?”

  “Never mind.” I smack a kiss on his delectable lips and let my cares evaporate into nothingness as two lost souls get lost in each other. I don’t care if it’s divine intervention or Mercury in retrograde, Lane plus me equals perfection.

  A knock on the door disrupts our reunion, forcing me to remember where we are. “Who is it?” I call out as Lane wipes away any evidence from my lips.

  “It’s Mr. and Mrs. Moore. Can we come in?” Hearing Ashley announce it that way brings this whole wonderful day into perspective.

  “Just a minute,” I answer, looking at Lane.

  “I guess we should let them in. It is their wedding, after all.” Lane flashes his dimples and straightens his very dapper bow tie. I could just eat him up. Famous last words for a chubby chick.

  “Yeah. I guess we should, even if I’d totally blow this taco stand in a heartbeat to finally be alone with you again.”

  Lane sweetly pecks the tip of my nose. “Leni, we have the rest of our lives to spend together. Tonight we celebrate the beginning of their happily ever after.”

  My eyes light up and my heart somersaults in my chest at the sound of his charming implication. “Are you insinuating that you and I will get a happily ever after, too?”

  “When you spend a lifetime hoping to feel half of what I feel for you, you kind of know when it’s the real deal. I can’t promise perfection, and we certainly know a lot about imperfections, but baby, you’re worth the wait.”

  I nuzzle against Lane and the warmth of our blossoming love surrounds me. “Hey. Was that a fat pun?”

  “Huh. I didn’t think of it that way, but yeah, sure. That weight, too.”

  Lane stands to open the door and takes my hand in his. “Hey, maybe we should pay a visit to that tree tomorrow. Carve Leni and Lane forever in it, or something.”

  “I’m down for that. It’s a special tree, isn’t it?”

  “The special-est. And it’s ours.” I tighten my grip around his hand and pull him
close.

  “And you’re mine.”

  “You bet your cute ass I am. Every single inch of me.”

  One Year Later

  IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR THE part where Lane proposed, we got married, had two point five kids, rescued a Golden Retriever on doggie death row, and I lost fifty pounds . . . keep looking, honey. It ain’t here.

  Since the night of my brother’s wedding, everything pretty much stayed the same. Well, for me, at least.

  Ashley and Reynold bought a beautiful home in New Jersey. My parents followed shortly after, settling two towns over in a fifty-five and over development when they found out they’d soon be grandparents to the second coming of Christ. Tatum and I nicknamed my unborn niece or nephew that when Rey and my overbearing mother went absolutely overboard with anything having to do with the baby. In fact, Tatum shouldn’t talk because shortly after she started dating Hudson, she convinced him to pull some of his multi-million-dollar land development strings to erect a state-of-the art playground and custom treehouse on the four acres of land surrounding my brother’s new mini-mansion. The kid isn’t even born yet and it already needs for nothing. Uncle Lane and I plan on spoiling the kid rotten, too.

  After we said our I love yous and put the past behind us, Lane and I continued to get to know each other, flaws and all, and my weight yo-yoed back and forth so much it gave me whiplash. Turns out, when a woman is truly happy and in love, she tends to eat more, work out less, and pack on a few extra pounds. Whatevs. It’s all good because it also turns out that when a woman is truly happy and in love, none of those things mean diddly squat.

  Not to worry, though, I haven’t completely gone to hell in a hand basket with my old habits. I’ve managed to make Jane and Mandy a permanent fixture in my life, even if they’ve given up on me at least twenty times in the last year. Those two charge a pretty penny for their notorious training sessions. I’d like to think I’m getting my money’s worth by giving them a run for it.

 

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