After You

by Sam Mariano

  He would approach her at the bar, drop onto the stool beside her, and ask casually, “Long day?”

  At first, she’d be surprised to see him, maybe a little defensive. Most grooms probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to be stood up at the altar, but he would take it in stride. Seeing that, she would be comfortable enough to nod and say, “Yeah. Almost got married.”

  “Came to your senses at the last minute, huh?”

  “Something like that,” she’d answer.

  Then he’d buy her a drink. Take her home. Kiss that dreamcatcher tattoo on her shoulder again, just like he was supposed to that night. Just like he was supposed to every night for the rest of his life.

  Something pulls me out of my imaginings, the realization that someone is saying my name—no, not my name. My nickname, the one I don’t respond to anymore because it makes me think of him. Because I can’t hear those two syllables strung together and brought to life by any voice but his.

  “Nikki.”

  My blood freezes in my veins, interrupting the stirrings of my imagination. In my mind, two soulmates are reconnecting after a dumb mistake, and in reality, my biggest mistake just said my name and stopped my whole world from revolving. My body is paralyzed and my mind fills up with a heavy fog. I don’t know if it’s because of the squeaky creative wheels that haven’t turned in a while, the nickname I haven’t responded to in six years, or the voice.

  I know that voice.

  I’ll never forget that voice—no matter how hard I try.

  Chapter Four

  The world outside of this moment ceases to exist.

  This hallway acts like a time machine, transporting me back several years to another hallway—our old high school on graduation day. To the reckless boy with the long golden hair who owned my reluctant heart, skulking around in a dark, empty classroom.

  “Nikki,” he called out then, stopping me in my tracks.

  The last time I ever saw him. The last day I ever heard his voice outside of a memory.

  I’m too terrified to turn around. This can’t be a real thing that’s happening. Maybe it’s a dream. I still dream about him sometimes. Maybe I’m actually lying in bed, and I’ll turn to look at him, but I won’t get to see his face. My eyes will open, I’ll be safe in bed, and it will be the morning of Alex’s wedding—all the anxiety surging through me right now will be imagined.

  My heart will ache for just a brief, private moment, then I’ll return to my regularly scheduled life, just a little more grateful for the lack of heart-stopping agony brought on by real feelings.

  I turn to look. To wake up. To end this fantasy.

  Only instead of ending, it solidifies.

  Derek Noble leans against the wall like he owns it. Like he built it himself, for the sole purpose of standing there right now and looking so damn sexy. The faintest trace of a smirk pulls at the corners of his beautiful mouth, his blue eyes warm and dancing with amusement, just the way they always used to. A well-built dam crumbles inside me and a crushing tidal wave of pain hits, knocking me on my ass, flooding my heart.

  I can scarcely breathe.

  I feel tears welling up in my eyes, horror blossoming within me at the idea of him noticing.

  He has already ruined one of my lives—can’t he leave this one alone?

  Once I find my voice, I demand, “What are you doing here?”

  He could push off the wall and move closer, but he doesn’t. He stands there and waits, knowing gravity will pull me toward him if he waits long enough. “Heard there was a wedding,” he says casually.

  My gaze drops, quickly taking in his attire. He’s wearing a sharp black suit with a matching black tie and a snow-white dress shirt that’s stretched across his broad, muscled chest. Damn, he filled out well in our years apart. He was always beautiful, unfairly magnetic, difficult not to get sucked into, but now the memory of the boy is melting as I take in the reality of the man he grew up to be.

  That thought pierces the bubble of nostalgia he’s sweeping me up in with his sudden appearance. We could have been together. I could have been by his side, watching as he grew into this man, growing with him.

  I wasn’t, because of the choices he made. I can’t let myself forget that again.

  A whole fleet of ice soldiers come to my heart’s aid, working as quickly as they can to repair the damage. To rebuild the wall he just exploded with little more than a lean-and-smirk.

  If the boy was dangerous, the man is probably devastating.

  He needs to leave.

  “You weren’t invited,” I tell him.

  My tone must alert him that I’m not going to move toward him this time. That I’m not 18 anymore. I try to remember that, myself. I try to remember the kickass woman I’ve grown up to be, the woman I am without him. I will not be held prisoner by a phantom, and that’s what he is. Maybe he haunts me from time to time, but he belongs in my past life, not my current one.

  He pushes off the wall and saunters closer.

  My heart constricts, knocking several little ice soldiers off the ledge; the poor little guys plunge to their watery deaths in the ocean of feelings below.

  Work faster, guys.

  I pivot, figuring I should at least face him. His hair is cut short now. I don’t know how it wasn’t the first thing I noticed, but as he walks close, the long, golden locks I loved to run my fingers through are gone. There’s still enough to run my fingers through, but no length.

  “You cut your hair,” I remark.

  “I did. Like it?”

  “No.”

  He smiles. My heart stops. Another battalion of ice soldiers plummet to their deaths. Ducking his head in a way I can’t help finding endearing, Derek remarks, “Yeah, you never were a big fan of change.”

  My jaw drops at what feels like an accusation. “Change?” I reiterate. “You mean like the kind of change where you impregnate and start a life with someone else? Yeah, you’re right; I wasn’t fond of that one. What a rigid asshole I must be.”

  Grimacing and pushing a hand through his shorn locks, Derek says, “That isn’t what I meant. I really don’t want to start off on that foot, Nikki.”

  “I don’t care which foot you want to start out on,” I inform him. “This is my father’s wedding. This is supposed to be a good day. You’re clearly just as selfish as you always were or you wouldn’t have crashed it and ruined it for me. Now, you need to leave before Alex sees you, because he will murder you, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to spend his honeymoon in prison.”

  “I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re still mad at me,” he remarks.

  “Go to hell,” I tell him.

  “Nah,” he says, shrugging. “Spent some time there already. Don’t really want to go back.” Reaching into a pocket inside his jacket, he extracts an envelope. “I brought a wedding present, if that helps.”

  “Is it a time machine?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Then we don’t want it.”

  Familiar blue eyes hold my gaze for a moment, then Derek nods. “All right. I’ll leave—but not until I get a chance to talk to you. You got to say your piece in just under a thousand pages; I think it’s time you let me say mine.”

  Shaking my head, I tell him, “You’ve got balls, Noble.”

  He smirks. “Always have. Don’t know why you’re surprised.”

  I cock an eyebrow. “Yeah? Where were they when Kayla got pregnant? I don’t recall you having any balls when all that went down.”

  Instead of being offended, he offers, “They went on sabbatical. Had to do a little soul-searching, see the sights. They’re back now and here to stay.”

  I am not amused. “It’s been six years, Derek.”

  His smile wilts. “I know how long it’s been, Nikki.”

  “You can’t just show up after six years.”

  Gesturing to his body, he says, “And yet, here I am.”

  I shake my head, looking toward the exit doors. I don’t have tim
e for this. I don’t have time to stand here and let him rip my world apart. The wedding is starting in literally minutes. If he’s not going to leave, I need to put him somewhere. I should shove him in a room—the little kitchenette with a sauce-spattered microwave and cheap fold-up chairs assembled around a table, maybe. No one is in there. I can go outside and participate in this wedding, trying to pretend everything is just fine, then when it’s over, before I head in to the reception, I can duck inside the abandoned room and let Derek say his piece, whatever that means. Replay our last goodbye, years later in a different setting.

  Why is he doing this to me?

  Why am I letting him do this to me? I should just say no. I should tell him I don’t want to hear anything he has to say and he needs to go.

  I don’t have the will-power. I’m too curious. What does he have to say to me that’s so urgent he would come all the way here to upstate New York, no less than three hours away from where I know he still lives? And he had to know there was a good chance he wouldn’t even see me. If Alex had seen him first, this reunion would not be happening.

  The Derek I remember didn’t take chances for me.

  Sighing, I look ahead at the oak double doors leading to the altar room. There’s a smaller man-door off to the left, a subtler entry into the aisle at the end of the room. I know from my last check there are some open seats in the back pew. Could I sneak Derek in the ceremony room without Alex noticing? He might legitimately stop the wedding if he sees Derek here, but he would never in a million years think to look for him.

  “All right, you want to watch my dad get married?”

  Indicating his sharp suit, he says, “Why do you think I wore this?”

  I grab his arm and haul him down the hall toward the man-door.

  “Didn’t think we’d get to touching that fast,” he remarks, looking at my hand on his arm. “I am liking the progression here.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see how much you like my touches when I punch you directly in the balls,” I mutter at him.

  “That’s not one of the things I hoped you would do with my balls.”

  I glare over at his stupid, handsome, smirking face. “Don’t push your luck, Noble. I can murder you and go find the priest after the ceremony to confess my sins and beg forgiveness.”

  “You’re not Catholic,” he reminds me.

  “I wouldn’t be sorry, either,” I inform him.

  Derek grins. “I missed you.”

  My heart drops and my throat closes up. Thankfully we’re at the door, so I don’t have to respond. Easing open the door, I step inside, dragging him behind me. My gaze darts to Alex at the front of the room, but he’s not looking. If anyone noticed the door opening over here, they would likely just assume an invited guest came in late.

  I cannot believe I’m going to let Derek Noble sit here and watch my father’s wedding.

  I cannot believe I am placing Derek Noble in a seat, knowing I am going to walk down this aisle as a bridesmaid. I’ve had plenty of daydreams where I walked down the aisle with my eyes on this man, and none of them went like this.

  “This is a terrible idea,” I whisper, as I look down the half-empty pew.

  Derek’s voice is firm. “Stand still.”

  I freeze. “What?”

  I feel a light tug on the back of my dress. “Your sash… ribbon… whatever the hell you call this thing that ties back here, it came undone. I’m fixing it.”

  I can hardly breathe at the idea of him having any part of helping me dress or undress. My face burns and I look at Alex again. The longer we stand here, the greater chance he sees. I don’t want to ruin his wedding day, and if he sees Derek… ugh.

  “Hurry,” I whisper.

  His hand touches my side and he leans in to murmur in my ear. “All better.”

  I watch as Derek slides down the pew, then steal one last glance at Alex. We weren’t spotted, and now that I have Derek stashed in a seat, I turn and hustle back out the man-door.

  The other attendants are gathered around the double doors now, talking in low murmurs, moving into a single file formation. I was so ready for this a moment ago, but now I’m struggling to draw a breath. My dress feels too tight, but it wasn’t too tight five minutes ago, so I know the reason I can’t draw enough air into my lungs is Derek, not the pretty fabric draped around my body.

  A series of mental images whoosh through my mind, lovers standing so close they breathe each other in, light touches on a woman’s exposed shoulders, his big hands reaching around her back so he can drag down the zipper on her dress. Only the lovers in my daydream aren’t the groom and his bride with the dreamcatcher tattoo, they are me and Derek.

  This is bad.

  “You okay?”

  I look up at the sound of a concerned voice. Bethany stands there, beautiful in her gown with her veil covering her blue hair.

  I force a smile and nod. “Yep, I’m good.”

  “All right, then let’s get me hitched.”

  Chapter Five

  I take comfort in my ability to stand up here in front of all these people and remain focused on Bethany and Alex. My stomach is a jumbled mess, it’s impossible to stay focused; my train of thought is jumping tracks faster than I can keep up with. Questions swirl through my mind a million at a time. I’ve had a few minutes to process his presence here, but it still doesn’t feel real.

  Why is he here?

  He wrecked me. That man wrecked me. I don’t like admitting that, I don’t like thinking about it anymore, but dammit, he knows what he did. I left that broken-hearted girl behind, patched her up the best I could in the pages of a fantasy, and he has no right to show up now. What could he possibly have to say to me after six whole years?

  He said I got to say my piece in a little under a thousand pages, but I only sent him the first book in my trilogy. It was 312 pages. That means he at least knows the other two exist, that he cared enough to look them up. Did he read them? God, that’s embarrassing. I sent him the first one, but the other two books were for me, not him.

  I have been so, so good, but when someone eases open the man-door—probably to slip out and use the restroom—I take advantage of the excuse to steal a glance in that direction. To steal a glance at Derek. His eyes are locked on me, and just knowing that, seeing it with my own eyes causes my heart to plummet.

  Derek breaks my gaze, glancing to his left and scooting down so someone can take the seat beside him. Who the hell shows up halfway through a—?

  My face transforms with horror as I see Henry drop into that seat next to Derek. I cannot breathe. I can’t control my facial expression, either, so I hope to God the photographer is zoomed in on Bethany and Alex right now.

  Oh, my God, what is Henry doing here?

  He smiles and winks at me—but then he notes the look on my face and cocks his head, frowning in confusion. Derek’s attention apparently returned to me faster than mine returned to him, and when I glance at him, his blue eyes are narrowed with a look I’ve seen on that handsome face before. Caught somewhere between comprehension and mischief, he turns his head and looks at Henry again, paying a little more attention now.

  I’ve never hoped for a church floor to open up and swallow me before, but that is my current fantasy. My horror escalates when Henry’s attention wavers and he looks over at Derek, who is now offering his hand and introducing himself with a charming smile, smug in knowing more than Henry does right now.

  No, stop it! Damn him. I shift my weight on the stage, dying to run over there and smack Derek in the head with my bouquet. Stop talking to my boyfriend, you asshole!

  Caught up in the reappearance of Derek, I did completely forget about Henry for a few minutes. Forget terrible girlfriend, I am a terrible human being.

  Despite being a lawyer, Henry isn’t, so even though you can tell he doesn’t want to be trapped into murmured conversation with the complete stranger beside him, he nods at Derek with a faintly polite smile as Derek engages him in conversation
. I see them talking, but I don’t know what is being said. It gets a little easier to guess when Henry points at me on the stage.

  Oh, my God.

  This is the weirdest day of my whole life.

  Maybe if I ignore them, they will disappear. Testing the theory out, I turn my attention back to Alex and Bethany, ignore the internal screaming, and just force myself to get through the rest of this ceremony.

  An eternity later, Alex is lifting Bethany’s arm in the air like she’s the reigning champion, then wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her in for a kiss. He dips her and I have to laugh as a couple of people in the audience let out a “whoop!”

  Bethany and Alex are grinning so wide, looking so happy, I forget for a moment that my own life is falling apart and just enjoy seeing their happy ending. Happy beginning, rather. They walk down the aisle first and we all meet up with our respective aisle-mates to follow them. My groomsman flashes me a smile and offers his arm. I take it, but my gaze drifts out over the crowd, going to Derek and Henry, now seated side-by-side.

  I’ve been dreading the walk up and back down the aisle because I hate being the center of attention, but as my gaze meets Derek’s sparkling blue eyes, warmth blossoms and spreads throughout my whole body. It feels wrong to hold another man’s arm and walk down the aisle as Derek watches.

  I had a dream like this once, years ago. I was the bride. Not a happy one. I walked down the aisle with some other man while Derek sat silently in the audience, ignoring my internal pleas for him to stop me. Just like in life, I waited for him, and he failed to come through.

  Looking at him now, though, there is something in his gaze I don’t recognize anymore. Something fierce and possessive, but calm, maybe patient. I’m not sure how I get all that from a wordless look, but his eyes have always spoken to me. Whispered beautiful lies that I held onto with devout conviction—my own personal gospel.