by Kayla Perrin
Minutes later, the golf cart arrived with a man named Henry, who already knew them by name because he’d driven them around the previous day. They rode the golf cart to the Fijiana, a restaurant overlooking the pool and the ocean. Melanie took in the stunning decor only briefly—then surveyed the place to see if Lawrence was anywhere in sight.
He wasn’t.
“Table for two?” a smiling woman asked them when they approached the restaurant’s entrance.
“Yes,” Richelle said.
The woman led them to a table close to the pool as a band played lively island music for the diners. Melanie took the seat that faced the ocean as well, and as she looked out at the view, she sighed happily. This place was truly stunning.
“I love how the pool looks as if it leads right into the ocean,” she said. “Maybe we can hang out at the pool instead of the beach until our eleven o’clock appointment?”
“Works for me. A couple drinks poolside? No crazy schedule? I’m going to hate to leave this place.” Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Melanie. “You left your phone in the room, right?”
“Yes. And you didn’t sneak one of your author’s manuscripts into your bag?”
“Not a chance,” Richelle said. “I’m thrilled to be able to use my free time to leisurely read a novel I’m not working on. I think I’m going to read that time-travel horror everybody’s raving about.
“But since I am getting married, maybe I should read something romantic.”
“Whatever you want,” Melanie said, lifting the menu. But Richelle suddenly frowned, so Melanie set the menu back on the table and asked, “What is it?”
“Here I am, worried about which novel to read.” She shook her head. “Shouldn’t I be doing something else?”
“What do you mean?” Melanie asked.
“Everything just seems so easy and peaceful and beautiful, and I feel like I should be a stressed-out bride. Am I missing something?”
“That’s the reason you came here, right? Because you didn’t want the stress. Because you wanted a simple yet incredible Fiji wedding.” Melanie smiled. “So here we are. And if your biggest decision right now is which novel to read, be grateful, not wary.”
Richelle drew in a breath and nodded. “You’re right. I don’t know why I keep expecting disaster.”
“Probably because, between the two of us, we’ve had two failed weddings,” Melanie supplied. “But this one’s different. This one’s gonna happen. Don’t you worry.”
The waitress arrived and offered coffee, then took their orders. They both opted for a plate of fresh fruit and omelets. As they waited for the breakfast to be prepared, they enjoyed the sounds of the Fijian music and the tranquil setting.
“Here you go,” the waitress said cheerfully. “A plate of fresh fruit.”
“This looks amazing,” Melanie said, eyeing the splendid-looking display of pineapple, papaya, kiwi, oranges and strawberries. And as she glanced up at the waitress to say thanks, she saw Richelle’s eyes widen.
The waitress walked away, and Melanie asked, “What is it?”
But by then, she felt his presence behind her. And she knew.
“Melanie. May I talk to you for a second?”
Melanie shivered. She felt a tremor through her entire body at the sound of Lawrence’s voice. And then her eyes fluttered shut.
“Mel, it’ll only be a few minutes.”
Richelle speared a piece of pineapple with her fork and got to her feet. “Why don’t you sit here?” she suggested. “By the way, great to see you, Lawrence.”
Oh, my God, no! Don’t leave, Richelle—don’t leave me! With her eyes, Melanie tried to implore her friend to stay put, but Richelle was already walking through the restaurant toward the far edge of the pool.
And then, Lawrence lowered himself onto the seat Richelle had vacated.
Melanie could hardly breathe, as her throat had suddenly constricted. The inevitable meeting with Lawrence had come sooner than she was prepared for.
As if she would ever be prepared for it.
Melanie tried to swallow, but couldn’t. There he sat, looking as fine as she had ever seen him, staring at her in this beautiful restaurant with a backdrop of palm trees and the perfect ocean. And as her heart began to hasten, all she could think was that this was exactly where they should be right now. The two of them together here in this restaurant. On this gorgeous island. But not by chance. Because if things had worked out for them nine months prior, they would be here as husband and wife, together on this trip to Fiji for Richelle’s wedding.
Which was exactly what she didn’t need to be thinking. “Good morning,” Lawrence said casually, as if their sitting together like this was entirely normal.
“Lawrence, this is a bad idea.”
“Actually, I think it’s a good idea. It’s the one way I know to get the answers I need from you.”
Melanie’s jaw flinched.
“I know you, Mel,” Lawrence continued. “And you’re not going to want to make a scene. So with me sitting here, you’re not going to jump up and leave, or go into hysterics or anything like that. I figure this is my best shot at finally having the conversation we should have had nine months ago.”
Nervously, Melanie glanced around. The other diners were all absorbed in their own lives. Their own relationships. Most were couples, and they all looked happy and carefree and deeply in love.
“I know that yesterday it was a shock for you to see me,” Lawrence said. “Trust me, it was a huge shock for me, too. And when you left me standing on the beach, I told myself that I didn’t care why you stood me up. But I’ve had a night to reflect, and I can’t lie to myself any longer. I’ve cared since September 15. Here I am at this resort, and here you are. And if there’s any chance I’m going to enjoy the rest of my vacation, I need to know why. For my own peace of mind, for me to have closure, I need to know why you left me at the altar without even letting me know that you were having second thoughts.”
Melanie picked up a piece of pineapple and put it into her mouth, buying time. She chewed the morsel, but couldn’t savor the sweet taste. All the while, Lawrence’s eyes bore into her.
The moment she swallowed, he said, “I’m waiting.”
Then he picked up a strawberry and popped it into his mouth. Casual as could be.
“What’s the purpose of this?” Melanie asked in a low voice.
“You owe me,” Lawrence said. “Or do you think that it was actually okay to leave the man who loves you and tell him absolutely nothing? Leave him to guess and explain to his family why the woman of his dreams was a no-show at their wedding?”
“Fine.” Melanie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I just—I just didn’t think it was going to work long-term. I figured it was best to walk away before tying the knot.”
“Not good enough,” Lawrence said.
“That’s my answer.”
He folded his arms and placed them on the edge of the table.
The waitress returned then with the two plates of omelets. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw that a man had replaced one of the women.
“Oh,” she said. “The woman who was here?”
“Will be back momentarily,” Melanie said. “Please.” She gestured for the waitress to put the food on the table, which she did.
“Actually,” Lawrence said, lifting Richelle’s plate. “Our friend is right over there.” He pointed to the far end of the pool, where Richelle sat with her feet in the water. “Now, see my buddy at that table there? Can you set our friend up at his table so she can enjoy her meal there?”
“Sure,” the waitress said, shrugging. “No problem.”
Lawrence grinned at her. “Wonderful. Because the two of us—” he eyed Melanie “—we’ll be a while.”
&n
bsp; Melanie raised her eyebrows at him.
“And whatever this omelet is,” Lawrence went on, “I’ll take one, too. It smells delicious.”
“Certainly.”
Horrified, Melanie watched as the waitress walked over to Richelle with the plate of food. Then watched as she gestured toward Shemar’s table. Richelle then got to her feet and made her way over to where Shemar was sitting, eyeing Melanie with a puzzled expression as she did.
“Now,” Lawrence began, “where were we?”
Melanie gaze met his. “Seriously, Lawrence.”
“Think of it this way. Once you explain it to me, I’ll be able to move on. Then, if we see each other around here again, you won’t have to worry about me hounding you for an answer.”
Melanie drew in a frazzled breath. “You want an explanation? Okay. You and I were on different pages, Lawrence. That’s why I realized I couldn’t marry—”
“Bull,” Lawrence said, cutting her off.
“If you want an answer, then you—” She stopped herself when the couple at the table across from them looked at her. “If you want to hear what I have to say,” she went on in a calmer tone, “then you need to listen.”
“I’m happy to listen.” Lawrence’s jaw stiffened. “But I want the truth.”
“I don’t know, Lawrence. Like I said, I’m sorry for what I did. I know I took the coward’s way out. It’s just...we didn’t agree about everything.”
“Who does?”
“And I was afraid,” she pressed on. “Afraid those differences were going to lead us in different directions.”
“Really?” Lawrence looked flabbergasted and hurt.
“You thought I worked too much. And I know it annoyed you that there were a lot of things you wanted to do that I was afraid to try. Like swimming.”
“We are different people,” Lawrence said. “I didn’t expect you to be a carbon copy of me.”
“Yes, you said that. But I just... Come on, Lawrence. We wouldn’t be the first couple to drift apart because of differences like that. And then there was that job offer I had on that series in Los Angeles. You weren’t happy that I was considering it.”
“Not so unhappy that I thought it meant the end of our relationship. If I had to live without you for a while, I would have managed.”
“I know,” Melanie said softly. “I know it’s easy to think that issues are surmountable when you’re in love, then suddenly, everything changes. What if I got a wardrobe job on a set in another part of the country or even in another part of the world—one that would take me away for weeks or months?”
“Did I ever once say that I didn’t support your career? From the day we met in that men’s clothing store—where you were doing some shopping for a film, and you gave me advice on the suit I was picking out—I knew what you did for a living. And I’ve always supported it.”
“I know. But...”
“But you were looking for reasons to walk away,” Lawrence said, his tone sour. “Sure, we got involved, but ultimately, you never could let down your guard with me. I thought I’d made it clear how much I loved you, wanted to be with you, wanted a life with you. But you...you couldn’t get past what your father did to your mother. He told your mother that he left because she wasn’t a homemaker, and you, at the end of the day, you believed I would do the same thing.”
Melanie’s heart began to pump a little harder. Lawrence had so easily torn away the layers of her excuses and hit the very core—something she didn’t even like to acknowledge to herself. Because Melanie had spent years believing that her father wasn’t a typical man. And then, there she was, on the morning of her wedding, and suddenly paralyzed with fear that Lawrence would hurt her the way her father had crushed her mother.
“Nothing’s impossible.”
“Wow.” Lawrence shook his head. Though he had come up with the very reason for her bailing on him, he seemed stunned to hear her verify his hypothesis. “Wow.”
Melanie glanced down, feeling bad for how her words had clearly hurt him. At her core, she had definitely believed that Lawrence was a family guy, one who would value her and not up and leave.
That was why she had fallen for him, why she’d agreed to marry him. But in the end, she just couldn’t go through with it.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Lawrence asked when she faced him again. “After all we meant to each other, after we were about to get married, you didn’t think you owed me the courtesy of a phone call?”
“I was afraid of how you would react.”
“Nothing would have been harder than the reality I was left to deal with. Being stood up at the altar and facing all the wedding guests who wondered what the heck was going on. My family and yours. Having to explain to them that the wedding was off. Having to be consoled by people when I didn’t even understand what was going on.”
“I’m sorry,” Melanie said.
Lawrence pushed his chair back and stood. “Yeah,” he said dully. “Thanks.”
And then he walked away, and Melanie knew—by the tone of his voice, even though she had explained her actions—her apology nine months after the fact was too little, too late.
Chapter 5
Hours later, Melanie still felt ambiguous about her meeting with Lawrence and how he had left her. He’d wanted answers, saying that he needed closure, and she’d given them. She even hoped that, by finally talking to him about their failed wedding day, she herself would feel better. But while Melanie had watched Lawrence’s back as he’d walked away from her table—moments before the waitress had returned with his omelet—the last thing she had felt was closure.
Still, during her spa session with Richelle, she’d talked tough. “I feel good,” she’d said as she and Richelle had lain on side-by-side massage tables, overlooking floor-to-ceiling windows that faced the stunning view of the ocean. “We talked, I explained my feelings, and now he understands. It’s silly that I avoided him for so long, because the truth is, talking to him today helped me get closure, as well.”
“Closure?” Richelle asked, her voice ripe with skepticism.
“Yeah. He deserved to know why, and I’d been running from that for months. That’s why I was so stressed. Because I never talked to him and gave him answers. I guess I thought he was going to flip out, and I couldn’t deal with that. But our talk went well, we resolved things, and now all the stress is leaving my body.”
That’s what Melanie had said as the skilled masseuse had worked the kinks out of her neck and back, but hours later, she felt some of the tension in her neck return. That’s where she really felt her stress. She was still thinking about Lawrence, remembering that crushed expression in his eyes. And she was definitely feeling guilt over the fact that she knew she had hurt him.
“I didn’t even ask Lawrence how long he was staying in Fiji,” Melanie said now, leaning in to whisper to Richelle hours later, as they sat on chairs on the beach for the evening’s entertainment.
“Why does that matter?” Richelle asked.
She shrugged. “Just curious. I know you don’t believe me about having closure, but if he shows up here tonight, I assure you I’ll be able to go over and have a friendly chat with him. He and I can be friends now, Richelle.”
The fire illuminated Richelle’s face, making it extremely easy to see exactly what she thought of Melanie’s theory. “Hogwash.”
“What?”
“You do realize that you haven’t stopped talking about Lawrence all day?” Richelle pointed out.
Melanie’s stomach tightened uncomfortably. “Richelle, let’s just enjoy the show.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who brought up Lawrence. Again.”
Roy returned from the bar then with the two piña coladas Melanie and Richelle had requested. He handed a drink to each of them, then s
at beside Richelle and slipped his arm around her shoulder. The entire wedding group seemed to be enjoying the traditional Fijian warrior show, with men in grass skirts and donning swords doing some sort of ritualistic dance. It was spectacular. But with each minute that passed, Melanie felt increasingly alone.
Beside her, Richelle was caught up with Roy. Leaning into him. Giggling at words he whispered into her ear. It suddenly struck Melanie that once the wedding was over, and even before that, she would be largely left to her own devices.
She surveyed the crowd of hotel guests. So far she hadn’t seen Lawrence and Shemar. She wondered if he was avoiding tonight’s festivities on the beach because of her.
But he had no need to. He had gotten the answers he’d wanted. Even if he didn’t like them.
About ten minutes later, Melanie caught sight of his face through her peripheral vision as he sifted his way through the crowd. Instantly, her heart slammed into her chest at the mere glimpse of him. She felt that familiar, fierce attraction she’d felt even the first day she had laid eyes on him. He was absolutely gorgeous.
You let him go? people had asked. But he’s so hot.
Perhaps it was because Lawrence was so hot that Melanie had felt even more insecure. She was a beautiful woman, and he’d told her so often, but women were often dogged in their determination to steal a man like Lawrence. That’s what Vern had claimed when Richelle had found out about his affair.
But right now, as she took in his sexy torso draped in a white cotton shirt, and his firm behind clad in denim, she felt a purely carnal pull of lust for him.
He was alone and looking for a place to sit. She swallowed, wondering if this was the time for her to put her money where her mouth was and get up and go over to him. Invite him to sit in the empty seat beside her.
And she was just about to rise when she saw him turn and gesture to someone behind him. Craning her neck to see whom he was beckoning over, her stomach tensed violently. Because walking toward Lawrence was not only Shemar, but also two olive-complexioned women dressed in short, tight dresses.