She thought of Callum’s voice on the phone as they talked for hours, missing sleep as they caught up on each other’s lives. He’s just an old friend, she’d told herself over and over as the minutes turned to hours and the clock by her bed revealed times she didn’t normally see. When he’d asked to see her once more before the wedding, she had said no. But eventually he’d worn her down, just like he always had. She might always regret it if she didn’t take the chance now while she had it, she reasoned. Before the wedding it was still sort of OK. But after the wedding she would be a married woman and there was no justifying that. The truth was, she did want to see him. She wished she didn’t, but she did.
She hesitated for just a moment before she drove the wrong way. Or maybe it was the right one. It depended, she supposed, on how you looked at it. And how it all turned out.
Callum was standing on his front porch when she pulled up, which meant that she didn’t have a moment to take a few deep breaths to gather her courage, to tell herself again that this wasn’t wrong, what she was doing. She turned the key in the ignition and tossed it into her purse, blocking thoughts of that huge key she’d given Andy. Callum waved from under the porch light, beckoning her as if this was nothing. And perhaps to him, it was. He wasn’t the one engaged to someone else, planning a wedding that would be broadcast to millions of people in a short time. He couldn’t ruin everything with this little visit.
She got out of the car and walked slowly toward him, grateful it was dark outside, using the space between them to take those deep breaths. She wondered how she should greet him. A hug? A handshake? The stiff, distant, arms-crossed greeting he deserved? And yet, as she climbed the stairs of his porch, he met her there at the top step, leaving her no time to think as he took her into his arms and hugged her, the feeling so familiar and comforting that for a moment she forgot everything that was on her mind. For a moment it was just like old times—her and Callum embracing, the smell of his skin enveloping her senses. She inhaled, relishing the onslaught of feelings without dissecting them. She had waited for this moment since that last awful conversation between them. She deserved this moment. Didn’t she?
She stepped away and the spell was broken. She squinted up at him, silhouetted in the bright porch light. She couldn’t see his face. “Do you want to come inside?” he asked.
Her heart pounded as she thought of setting foot inside his house, the little house she’d helped him find, assuming she would one day live there too. They’d held hands as they walked through with the realtor, that other diamond new and sparkling on her left hand. She wondered where it was now. Probably still in the box she’d overnighted to him the day after their big breakup. She’d fully expected him to show up in a few days with that ring in his hand, begging her to wear it again and apologizing for his foolishness. But days turned to weeks, then months, and there was no word from him. Eventually she’d given up, let Picky talk her into that ridiculous video and . . . here they were. Now she wore another man’s diamond, and Callum was still living in the house she’d once thought of as theirs.
“Wynne?” he asked.
“Sorry,” she laughed at herself. “I’m—”
“Thinking too much,” he chided with a grin. He opened the door. “Come on,” he said and held the door open for her. She stood still for a moment, her glance straying to her car sitting in the driveway, the engine emitting little clicks as it cooled. She could get in and drive away, go straight to Andy and tell him everything. She could stop this madness now.
“It’s okay, Wynne. It’s just a visit with an old friend,” he said, the tenderness in his voice soothing her nerves and coaxing away her reservations. Even now, he knew her, and she couldn’t help but be comforted by that. He gestured to the open doorway.
She ducked her head and walked through.
He had taken a seat on the couch, so she had purposely chosen the big overstuffed chair opposite it. She wasn’t about to sit beside him. As she stiffly lowered herself and refused his offer of a drink, she ignored the memories that assaulted her. They had bought this sofa and chair, bickering over the fabric choice, debating the merits of bold color versus neutral patterns. They’d talked about durability in a house with toddlers someday. Or had it just been she who had talked and he who listened? She couldn’t remember that part. He’d seemed to be invested and interested. But maybe that had only been what she wanted to believe.
“Thanks for coming tonight. I know it was kind of a risk for you.” He smiled and gave her a bashful look. “I guess you didn’t tell him?”
She shook her head and looked away. “I tried but . . . I didn’t know how to explain what I was doing.”
He shrugged and sipped his tea, the ice cubes knocking against the glass. “Maybe you’ll feel better about telling him after the fact, once you know everything turned out OK and you have nothing to feel guilty about.” He smiled again and set his glass down on the coffee table, characteristically ignoring the stack of coasters she’d bought to protect the wood. The set was from Sunset Beach and featured pictures of the old bridge. She wanted to laugh that he’d actually kept those coasters from one of their trips, yet he still managed to avoid them. She chose not to let those coasters make her feel any more guilty over her wedding location than she already did.
“I just thought it would be good to see each other one more time before, you know. You’re . . .”
Was she right, or was he unable to say Andy’s name or the word “married”? She bit back a little vengeful smile. It served him right. “I guess we both need some closure,” she said, then added quickly, “I mean, more than a phone conversation can bring.”
“I really just wanted to ask you why you chose Sunset Beach of all places. I was thinking maybe I’d vent a little about that and then, you know, get on with my life.” He didn’t look exactly angry, she thought, but perhaps a little indignant.
She started to argue about his right to vent about any of this, but he stopped her. “I know, I know. I have no right to have those feelings, and you’re free to do what you want but I . . .” He reached over and grabbed one of the coasters, turned it around in his hand before putting it back down on the table. “I was just really, really surprised when I saw you on that show, and I couldn’t understand why you’d do that.”
She opened her mouth to answer, her heart torn between explaining how it all transpired and denying him an opinion in the matter, but he shook his head. “But now that you’re here, Wynne, I realize it doesn’t matter. It was just good to hear your voice, to hear about your life and . . . I realized how much I’d missed that. And then I just . . . needed to see you. I . . . actually didn’t expect that.” He met her eyes. He reached for his tea glass and took a long swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he did. He set the glass back down on the coaster this time and looked back at her. He blinked with heavy lids, and she wondered how much sleep he’d gotten since the day the show aired. “I guess I thought we’d always have time.”
“Time for what?” she asked, her voice scratchy and thick. She hoped he would say what she wanted to hear him say. Yet what would hearing it change?
There was a long stretch of silence as he chose his answer. He was, she knew, weighing his words, deciding how vulnerable he should be. That was the trouble with knowing someone as long or as well as she knew Callum—she could still read him whether she wanted to or not.
“Time to come back. To us,” he finally said.
Her heart began to pound and she swallowed again, her throat burning as her eyes began to well up. “You made it clear you didn’t want that.”
His voice was strained, emotion bubbling just below the surface. “In hindsight maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did, but I thought we should see what else was out there. That we’d spent our whole lives together and we owed it to ourselves to make sure we were right for each other before we did what you’re about to do.”
“You mean marriage? You can’t even say
the word, Callum.”
“I mean committing to another person. For life. Before you and I stood in front of everyone we knew and made promises to God.” She studied her hands to avoid the way his eyes implored her to understand. “I took that very seriously. Do you?”
She thought about Andy’s proposal, how it had somehow caught her off guard even as the cameras whirred and the air around them got very, very still. She hadn’t really intended to get engaged, and yet the “yes” had come out of her mouth. Everything that had come after had been on the tide of that one, split-second decision. She twisted the ring on her finger. It was bigger and flashier than the one Callum had given her, and she’d seen him notice. “You have no idea how seriously I take all this,” she said.
He leaned back on the couch and stared her down. She ignored how handsome he looked in those worn-out jeans, which she knew he’d had since high school, his feet bare and already tanned even though it was barely summer. “Well, good,” he said, an ironic edge slicing into his voice. “I’m certainly glad to hear it. I guess my concerns that this marriage of yours is just to spite me are completely wrong.”
She sputtered as she tried to think of the way to respond. She finally settled on, “You have some nerve, saying that to me.”
He nodded and smirked. “Guess I do.” He inhaled a deep breath that sounded more like a resigned sigh. He looked up at her, his eyes changing from bitter to almost sad. “But am I wrong?”
She stood up, clasped her hands in front of her as she searched for the right words. “I’m going to leave now. I think it was a mistake to come.” She started walking for the door, expecting to hear his feet following. But when she put her hand on the door and turned around, he was in the exact same spot, his head down.
“Bye,” she said, more as a dare than a parting. I’m leaving, in case you didn’t notice. Why did she want him to chase her? Even now? She jiggled the door knob in her hand, remembering that the key never fit quite right in the lock. She wondered idly if he’d ever gotten a new key fitted. The sound of his voice jarred her back to the present.
“What did you say?” Her voice was hesitant and uncertain, revealing, she was sure, just how much she’d wanted him to say something before she was gone. This was about closure. Isn’t that what she’d been telling herself? One final exchange between them. All the things they needed to say before they couldn’t say them ever again. This would be, after all, the last time they ever saw each other. In another week she’d be at Sunset Beach with the producers, preparing her big wedding. Another week after that and she’d be married.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “For being unsure and putting you through what I put you through. If I—” He stopped, and she felt herself reaching, straining for those words he didn’t say, the ones she could see he was keeping inside.
“If you what?” she prompted.
He gave her the same smile he gave her when her grandfather died and he sat by her side at the funeral. The same smile he gave her when she didn’t get the score on the SAT she needed to get into Chapel Hill. The same smile he gave her when she got mono and had to miss the junior prom. Little more than a firm line with the ends of his mouth turned up, it was a smile that said, “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here for you no matter what.” But he wasn’t there for her anymore, and his familiar, sympathetic smile only made her more aware of that than ever. “Nothing,” he said. “Go and live your life. Be happy. I want that for you, even if you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” she managed. He was telling her good-bye and she had no choice but to hear him. To hear him and, this time, accept it with grace and dignity. She forced herself to smile back without begging him to reveal whatever he was withholding. It wouldn’t make any difference. She had made a promise, forged a life with someone else, moved on, just like all her friends and family had urged her to do.
She bit the inside of her jaw to stave off the tears that were threatening. “I want you to be happy too.” She restrained herself from hugging him good-bye, even though every fiber of her being wanted to cross that room and wrap her arms around him. There was a time when a hug from Callum could change the whole trajectory of her day. Instead, she gave him a little wave, not unlike the one Meredith had offered her earlier that evening, and exited his house for the last time.
She got back into her car and gripped the steering wheel, wondering why moving on didn’t feel nearly as good as people made it sound. For a moment she watched the porch to see if he would come outside and stop her from driving away. But the porch stayed empty, and after a few minutes, the light flicked off. She drove away, telling herself she was driving toward her future, that the best was yet to come. She forced herself to think of the ocean and the wedding plans, the little touches they’d planned for the big day. She had so much to look forward to—all this looking back was ridiculous behavior. She was going to be a June bride and have her perfect wedding in the place she’d always dreamed of. That was enough. She pressed harder on the accelerator. It was enough.
You sure you’re OK?” Andy asked, squeezing her shoulder as he looked down at her with concern in his eyes. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
Wynne nodded and smiled harder.
“If you ask me, you’re letting them stress you out too much,” he said, pointing at Donna and Paul, the producers of the show. “This is your wedding.” He chuckled, then amended himself. “Our wedding.” He pulled her closer. “Not theirs.” He rolled his eyes and lowered his voice for privacy, not that Meredith was paying any attention. She was enjoying the attention from the producers too much to pay them any mind. “Or hers for that matter. I still don’t understand why you let her come to this meeting with us. All of a sudden she’s like your shadow.”
Wynne sighed and took a few steps away, just to ensure that Meredith didn’t overhear anything. “I can’t explain it. She just seems sad. And this stuff makes her happy.”
Andy gestured to Meredith, now demonstrating the Macarena as the producers all laughed. “Yeah. She looks just positively broken up right about now.”
“Meredith is actually helping. She’s great at wedding planning, and she loves all this fame stuff. I would rather avoid it so she’s taking the heat for me.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. “Which leaves me free to stand here and talk to you.”
He smiled and bent down to kiss her. “Well, I’m not arguing with that,” he said. “So you ready to hit the road tomorrow?” He put his arm around her. “This time next week we’ll be married. Can you believe it?”
It’s all I can think about. Guilt crawled up her spine. She needed to tell Andy the truth about seeing Callum. But each time she thought about what to say, her mouth clamped shut and the right words escaped her. She’d promised herself she would confess before they got married. It wasn’t right to start their marriage off with a lie hanging between them. She just hoped Andy understood.
As Andy went over to talk to Paul, Wynne stood and thought about the only conversation they’d ever had about Callum. A conversation that had, actually, taken place during their date on the show. Though the footage of them talking had been edited down to about two sentences, it was that conversation that had made Andy stick out in her mind, his kind smile and warm eyes raising him above all the other guys in her eyes. Sure, the other guys had made comments about how Callum had been stupid to let her go, but it was Andy who really got how she felt, who let her talk about what had happened and actually listened.
In the end Andy had taken her hand and kissed it gently. He’d said, “I know you’re hurting, but it’s not going to always feel this way.” Then he’d winked and thanked her for a nice night, leaving her to ponder just what it was about Andy that made him so good, that made her feel like she could trust him and tell him anything. “You have to be friends,” her mother had always told her. “The passion fades. It just does. But the friendship—if you’re lucky—will always be there.”
Andy
had been her friend. But did that mean she loved him? Enough to become his wife? Oh, that confounding Callum, walking back into her life at the precise wrong time, butting into her thoughts with his lopsided grin and his ability to take one look at her and know exactly what she was thinking. She thought back to his off-base theory that she was only marrying Andy to get back at him. Sure, it might appear that way. She and Andy were still getting to know each other. She and Andy didn’t have one-tenth of the history she and Callum had. But that didn’t mean they weren’t meant for each other.
It was Andy’s diamond on her finger. Andy to whom she’d given the key to her heart in front of a nation of viewers. That had to count for something. And it wasn’t like Callum had offered, even after they’d seen each other again. He’d hinted that he didn’t like her marriage to Andy. But he’d never said, “Marry me instead.”
Was that what she was waiting for? Would it change things if he had? These were her thoughts, hundreds of little popcorn kernels popping inside her head—when what she wanted was to think of the wedding only. She needed to focus.
Meredith came over and bumped shoulders with her, knocking her off balance and laughing as she did. “Hey, you are not going to believe what Donna just asked me!” she said.
“What?” Wynne smiled and hoped that Donna just asked her if she wanted to star in some other reality show. It was clear that Meredith was having a hard time letting go of the limelight while Wynne couldn’t shed it fast enough.
“She wants me to come to your wedding! She said it’ll be great for ratings. And—” Meredith squeezed Wynne’s upper arm a wee bit too hard as Wynne winced. “Oh, sorry.” She rubbed her arm and gave her an apologetic smile. “And, she said she wanted me to make a toast to you and she will make sure it gets into the final show!” She held her hand up for a high five, grinning as broadly as Wynne had ever seen. Wynne obliged by reaching up to slap her upstretched palm, feigning the same kind of excitement Meredith had. But all she could think of was what Andy had said when he saw Meredith at the meeting: “I’m just grateful she’s not going to be at the wedding.”
A June Bride Page 4