“You’re right about serious relationships not being all hearts and flowers and orgasms, Jaime. That’s falling in love. Over time, it’s not that anymore. It takes work. It takes trust and sacrifice and faith in something you can’t see. It means sticking the fuck around when you’re scared or tempted or angry. It’s knowing that someone has your back and will be there at the end of your best days and your worst. It’s understanding that you’re part of something bigger than yourself, and fighting for it. I know it’s rare.” I softened my voice. “But that’s what I’m looking for. And life is short.”
She started to cry. “I don’t know what to do. I’m miserable without you, but I don’t think I’m capable of being what you want.”
You are. You just refuse to see it.
My chest hurt, and my gut was in knots. I wanted to hold her so badly, but I couldn’t give in, and I wasn’t going to argue with her. “If that’s the truth, then let me go.”
After a long pause, she stepped aside. I opened the door and shouldered by her without looking back.
I went right to Alex. “Listen, I have to go, but don’t let your sister drive home tonight. Get her a ride or keep her here. She’s been drinking a lot.”
“OK.” He looked concerned. “Everything alright?”
“I don’t know.” The truth was, I felt like fucking overturning the coffee table, maybe throwing it through the front windows.
“Let’s hang out this week, OK? I’ll make sure Jaime gets home safely or stays over.”
“Sounds good.” I shook his hand and he pulled me in for a hug. “Thanks.”
I let myself out and walked to my car with long, angry strides. What the fuck was I supposed to do with her? I think I love you? Did she really think I was just looking for the words? It wasn’t that hearing them from her hadn’t made me happy—it had.
But it wasn’t enough.
Twenty-Eight
JAIME
My eyelids felt like stubborn garage doors, but I managed to get them open after a few tries.
Oh, God.
The room wasn’t bright, but even the small amount of sun creeping through the blinds stabbed my retinas like a thousand daggers. My head was…not good.
Slowly, I sat up and looked around. Someone had put me in a guest room at Alex and Nolan’s house, or I’d put myself in here—I couldn’t remember. I was still wearing my dress, and my heels were on the floor.
Somehow I managed to hobble over to them, lean down, and pick them up, but the room was not cooperating. The floor pitched at strange angles and the walls appeared to be circling me.
I made it to the bathroom, where I thought I might throw up, but I didn’t. Then I thought about flushing myself down the toilet, but since that wasn’t an option, I used the bathroom, washed my hands, and splashed cold water on my face
Then I looked in the mirror.
MISTAKE.
I looked almost as bad as I felt. The carefully applied cat’s-eye liner had morphed into raccoon eyes. My face was pale, my eyes were bloodshot, and my matted hair made Margot’s blond bird nests look like gold satin. The effect of two cocktails and many, many glasses of red wine was not pretty.
“Whyyyyy,” I moaned.
But I knew why—to dull the pain.
When I thought about what had happened with Quinn, I felt the sharp sting of it poking through the haze of my hangover.
But I deserved it.
I’d fucked up.
Again.
It had seemed like such a good idea, cornering him in the bathroom, such a cute nod to our past, but then nothing had come out right.
Because I’m not good at that stuff. I don’t know how to do it.
Frowning at my reflection one last time, I made my way downstairs, carrying my shoes in one hand and my dignity in the other.
Nolan and Alex were bright-eyed and chipper, having coffee and muffins in the kitchen.
“There she is!” Nolan hopped up and grabbed a big glass from a cupboard, filling it with water. “You’re gonna want this, sunshine. I’ll get you some coffee and ibuprofen too.”
“Thanks,” I said weakly. My tongue felt like it had a fur coat on.
“How are you doing?” Alex grinned at me from over the rim of his cup.
“Don’t ask. Ugh.” I grimaced as I sat down at the kitchen table. “I think there’s a dead rodent in my mouth.”
Nolan set the water and ibuprofen in front of me and I tried to smile. “Thanks.”
“Want to talk about it?” my brother asked.
I swallowed the pills and some water before answering. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Quinn was worried about you.”
I sighed.
“What happened with that?” Nolan wondered, setting a cup of coffee in front of me before sitting down again.
“What happened was that I blew it about three weeks ago. And then I blew it again last night.”
“How so?”
I inhaled and exhaled. Even breathing hurt. “I saw what a bad breakup did to Margot, and I panicked that my feelings for Quinn were getting too serious.”
“Too serious for what?” Alex asked.
“For comfort.” I tried a sip of the coffee. “You know how I am.”
“So what did you do?” Nolan pressed. “Break it off?”
“Yes. But I was fucking miserable without him, so last night when I saw him, I had this brilliant idea that I could get him back—and it didn’t work.”
“What did you do?” Alex questioned.
“I told him I loved him, because I thought that’s what he needed to hear.”
“Did you say it like that?” Nolan asked.
“Like what?”
“Like you were only saying it, not feeling it.”
“Jesus!” I set my coffee cup down with a thud, some of it sloshing over the side. “What is with you people? I do feel it, OK? I love him. Am I supposed to sing it? Cry tears of joy? Shoot a rainbow out of my ass? That’s just not me.” I went over to the counter to get some paper towel.
“No, I don’t think you need to do any of those things,” Nolan said. “I just think you need to say it because you mean it, not because it’s what he wants to hear. What was his reaction?”
“He said he didn’t believe me. No, wait.” As I mopped up the spill, I tried to think back to what his words had been. My memory was foggy. “I don’t think he said he didn’t believe me. He said I was lying, but not to him. To myself.”
“About what?” Alex asked.
I focused on my hands. “About…about the reason I pulled away from him. He said it wasn’t because I was scared we wouldn’t last; it’s because I’m scared we would.”
“And are you?”
“I don’t know.” Now I was lying to them too. “Maybe.”
“Why would that scare you?” Nolan looked at me like I was one of his patients. Sometimes it was really annoying that he was a therapist and so good at sussing out the truth behind feelings.
“Because I’ll fuck it up!” I burst out, surprising even myself. “It’s inevitable. And he deserves better.”
Alex looked a little shocked, but Nolan barely reacted. “So it will be you that hurts him?”
“Maybe,” I said, fighting tears and nausea. “I mean, not on purpose. But he kept talking about all these things that love involves—trust and apologies and fights and forgiveness and sacrifice—I mean, what if I don’t have it in me?”
“Don’t you think you do?”
“OK, enough with the therapy-speak.” I threw the soaked paper towel away and sat down again. “I get what you’re trying to do, but the thing is, there are no for-sure answers to these questions.”
“You’re right,” Alex said quietly. “There aren’t.”
We both looked at him.
“Then what’s the secret? Tell me, please. How do you make promises to someone when you don’t know what the future holds?”
Alex shrugged. “There is no secret. The
re is no magic, Jaime. No way to tell what the future looks like. The point is that you’re willing to take the chance anyway. You’re willing to say, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know I want you with me on this journey.”
“Exactly,” agreed Nolan. “It’s not as if Alex and I know something you don’t. We love each other and work hard at this. And he was just as reluctant as you are to commit to forever.”
“You were?” I looked at my brother, surprised.
“At first, I was,” said Alex. “I never wanted to be married. I thought, ‘What’s the point?’ We’ll just end up hating each other. Doesn’t everyone?”
“Yes! So how did you get over that?” I propped my heavy, aching head in my hand.
“I weighed my feelings for him against my fears, and in the end, I decided what scared me most was the thought of a life without him.”
Nolan reached out and took his hand. “Oh honey, that’s so sweet. Does that mean we can have the doves?”
“No,” Alex said firmly. “No doves.”
Nolan sighed. “Anyway, Jaime, does that help at all?”
“I guess so. I mean, seeing how happy you guys are makes me think maybe there’s a chance for me, but…” I took a breath. “I have to figure out how to open myself up to it. I’ve guarded against it so long that it feels like I’m trying to get in the game when I’ve been skipping practice.”
“Ask yourself the hard questions, and don’t be afraid of the answers,” Alex said. “Remember we are not our parents. Be open to every possibility. That’s my advice.”
“It’s good advice.” Nolan patted his hand. “And you know, Jaime, there’s no shame in talking to a therapist about this stuff. Not me, of course, but I can give you a name of someone I think would be good for you.”
“Thanks, I think that might be a good idea. And thanks for letting me crash here. I definitely drank too much.”
“Happens to everyone. Just don’t let it happen at the wedding,” Alex warned. “I’m not dragging your sorry ass home that night.”
I smiled. “You won’t have to.”
“And maybe find a different hairstylist.” Nolan wrinkled his nose and waved a hand at my head. “The whole emo thing isn’t really working for you.”
I threw a muffin at him. But I felt a little bit better.
In the next week, I did a lot of soul searching. I made an appointment with the therapist Nolan recommended, a woman named Jenna, who helped me sift through my feelings. We talked a lot that first session about my childhood and how my mom and dad’s marriage and parenting style had affected me. She felt that those things had had a bigger impact on me than I realized, and after talking about it, I agreed.
After hearing me talk for a solid hour, she wasn’t at all surprised to learn that I’d been reluctant to fall in love. She gave me some more things to think about, additional questions to ask myself, and I made an appointment for the following week.
I saw Margot and Claire that night, and they told me how proud they were.
“I think it’s wonderful you’re seeing a therapist,” Margot said. “I love mine.”
“You’re doing the right thing,” Claire agreed. “Have you come to any conclusions?”
I took a deep breath. “I miss him like crazy, and I love him.”
Claire shook her head. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“What about the things he wants?” Margot asked. I think she understood where he was coming from even better than I did. “Can you handle it?”
“I think I can,” I said. “I have no idea what kind of girlfriend I’ll be, but I can’t bear the thought of him with anyone else or being with anyone else myself, so if he wants a girlfriend, it’s gonna be me.”
They grinned. “When are you going to talk to him?” asked Claire.
“Soon. Maybe this weekend.” I made a face. “But I have to work up my nerve. Twice now I’ve told this man I love him, and it ended badly both times.”
“Third time’s the charm,” Margot said confidently.
I really hoped she was right.
The next day, I texted him. Hey, can we talk?
He didn’t answer for hours, and when he did, it was disappointing. In London for a shoot. Home on the 7th. Unless you want to talk on the phone.
The 7th…my heart sank. So you’ll miss the wedding?
Unfortunately, yes. Scheduling mixup. I talked to Alex about it.
OK. Get in touch when you’re back?
I will.
I set my phone next to me on the couch and stared at it, my bottom lip caught between my teeth. It was hard to believe I hadn’t wanted to go to the wedding with him when he’d first asked. Now I was devastated he’d miss it.
At least he wouldn’t have to suffer through my toast. I was still struggling to put it together, although something Alex had said the morning after his birthday had been buzzing around in my brain ever since.
There is no magic.
And I knew what he’d meant—I’d been saying the same thing for years.
But now…I was going to disagree.
Twenty-Nine
JAIME
Alex and Nolan’s wedding day dawned clear, bright, and crisp. I woke up in a surprisingly good mood, considering I’d been dreading making the toast for a year and Quinn wouldn’t be there tonight to get me through it. But I felt optimistic about both my words and the evening ahead—and I was genuinely happy for Alex and Nolan. I had a new appreciation for their relationship.
After breakfast I took a walk, breathing in the cool spring air and going over my little speech in my head again and again.
I spent the late morning and early afternoon at the salon and then dressing in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, where the car would pick us up. Getting ready in my old bathroom reminded me of being a teenager—and crushing on Quinn, of course. Who’d have thought, after all this time, he’d be the love of my life?
The thought gave me shivers.
Since I was the only female attendant, I’d gotten to pick my own outfit, and I’d chosen a gorgeous light gray dress that coordinated with the grooms’ charcoal gray suits. (Light gray was on the list of Approved Wardrobe Colors Nolan had given family to guide their choice of wedding attire.)
I wore diamond earrings, borrowed from Margot, and the necklace Quinn had given me, and I had my hair done up in a twist, which showed off the jewelry and the cutout in the back of the dress.
Both the ceremony and reception were held at the Ford Piquette Avenue Plant, which sounds like a crazy place to hold a wedding, but I had to hand it to Nolan—the place looked fantastic. It was the perfect spot.
The industrial elements—Model T’s parked along the room’s perimeter, the exposed brick on the walls and ductwork on the ceiling, the huge factory windows, the wood-planked floor—gave it a rustic, masculine feeling. The flowers, linens and party lights lent softer elegance, and the fading sun cast the entire room in pale amber light. Almost two hundred guests were seated in rows of white folding chairs.
A string quartet played as our parents and Nolan’s were seated, then Nolan’s brother Sean took my arm and we walked up the aisle together. Once we’d reached the officiant, we split to each side, just as we’d rehearsed the previous night.
When I turned to face the back of the room, I saw him
Quinn.
He’d snuck in somehow, and he was standing at the back, dressed in a dark suit and looking so handsome he took my breath away. My flowers jittered in my hands.
He’s here! He came!
A moment later, Alex and Nolan were walking up the aisle hand in hand, and I found myself completely choked up. They looked so happy, so in love, so sure of themselves. I thought about what it had taken for them to get here—as a gay couple, getting married wasn’t something they took for granted—and I felt lucky to witness it.
I peeked out at Quinn. He smiled at me—not huge, but it made my heart pound all the same. I started thinking about what I
was going to say to him and realized I was totally unprepared.
Damn it! How dare he surprise me like this! I wanted to get it right this time, and I hadn’t practiced!
OK, no panicking. Maybe it will be even better if it’s unrehearsed…just say what you’re feeling without holding back.
When the grooms kissed to seal their union, my eyes filled, and my heart thumped with joy. When they embraced each other and I saw the tears on Nolan’s face, I gave up trying to stem the tide, and let mine fall too.
Love was real, and it was worth celebrating.
I only had a few minutes between the ceremony and the elaborate photo shoot Nolan had planned, and I had to use most of it to repair my eye makeup, but I was dying to get to Quinn. After I touched up my face in the bathroom, I hurried back into the reception room, where guests were mingling with drinks in their hands, talking and listening to live jazz. My eyes skimmed the crowd, but I didn’t see him right away.
A hand touched my shoulder. “Jaime.”
I turned, and at the nearness of him, my breath caught. Without thinking, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Oh my God! What are you doing here?”
“I rearranged a few things. I actually have to fly back to London tomorrow night.”
Surprised, I stepped back. “You do? When did you fly in?”
“Today.”
“You flew in for one night?”
“I wanted to be here.”
I smiled. “Alex will be so happy.”
“It wasn’t all for Alex,” he said quietly. “I wanted to see you too. You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re wearing the necklace.”
“Of course I am.” As I touched the circle pendant, I heard my name being called and looked over to see the coordinator gesturing for me to come with her. “Crap. I have to go take pictures. But I want to talk to you.”
“It’s OK. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good. I’m not either.” Impulsively, I took his face in my hands and kissed him full on the lips. “I mean it, Quinn. I’m here, I’m yours, I love you, and I want this for us.”
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