by Jamie Howard
But not quite in the way I was expecting.
I’m not grieving for my failed relationship with Luke; I’m not pining after him and nursing a broken heart. Not anymore. But I am mourning the death of another tiny piece of my self-confidence. We dated for years and the subject of getting engaged was only rising to the surface. With Sloane it’s been a measly ten months.
I slip into the hallway, the carpet squishing beneath my heels. I don’t even need to go to the bathroom, I just need a minute to breathe. I need a second to escape from the hordes of people who keep asking how I am. I want to let the subject go, to stop thinking about it, but everywhere I turn someone’s rubbing it in my face all over again.
And trying to navigate tonight with Kyle by my side? Between the Luke issue and him, it’s like a one-two punch. It’s taking every little piece of my resolve to not step into his arms and hold on to him for dear life. Every time he looks at me with a smile playing about his lips, or squeezes my hand in reassurance, I have to remind myself to breathe. The way his thumb was just sweeping across the inside of my wrist had my knees turning to butter and all of my objections melting to the ground.
So, space. That’s what I need. And the only place I can think of to find that is the bathroom.
I lean my shoulder into the bathroom door and nudge it open. A flash of lace catches my eye, but before I can retreat back into the hallway I hear my name being called for the thousandth time today.
“Haley!” Blaire grins at me, motioning me through the door.
“Hey.” The door thumps closed behind me.
“I’m so glad I have you to myself for a minute.” She leans a hip against the counter. “My mom is incessant today with the picture taking and the socializing. I’ve danced two dances with Harrison. Two.”
There was a time when talking to Blaire was effortless, but that ended about the same time as my relationship with Luke. I can’t even make small talk with her now. “That’s awful. Maybe, um, you can avoid her for a while?”
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” She rolls her eyes. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about anyway.” Her dress rustles as she takes a step toward me. “How are you dealing with everything?”
I know exactly what she’s referring to, but for some reason I feel the urge to play dumb. “Dealing with … ?”
She widens her eyes suggestively. “You know, the whole engagement thing. Are you okay?”
It’s such a simple question. One I’ve already heard a thousand times tonight. But this time, something in me snaps. Maybe it’s that I’m tired of everyone asking. Or maybe it’s months’ worth of pent-up hurt spurting from my mouth. “What right do you even have to ask me that?”
She flinches like I just reached out and pinched her. “What do you mean?”
Anger expands inside me, making my chest feel like it’s going to explode from the pressure. “I mean, what right do you have to ask me that? We’re not friends anymore. We’re not anything.”
“I didn’t—”
“It doesn’t matter.” My eyes burn from the tears I’m holding back, but I don’t let them out. I clench my jaw together, trying to stop myself from shouting at her. Now isn’t the time for an argument. Not on her wedding day. My words come out coated in defeat. “I broke up with Luke and you broke up with me. I haven’t heard from you once. Not once.”
“Haley, c’mon. That’s not fair.”
A laugh rips out from between my lips. “Fair? You want to talk about fair? What part of any of this has been fair?”
She takes another step toward me, and her dress brushes against mine. “This isn’t how we wanted you to find out. We were going to tell you, but we didn’t want to spring it on you. We knew tonight was going to be hard enough for you as it is.”
“‘We’? Right, because Sloane cares at all about my feelings. Like any of you do.” My gaze locks on to hers, and I finally ask her the question that’s been gnawing at me for months. “Did you know what was going on between them? Were you just watching it all happen from the sidelines, cheering Sloane on and shoving Luke in her direction?”
“Haley…” Blaire’s eyes fill with tears and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.
My vision blurs. “You were my best friend. That may not have meant anything to you, but it meant something to me.”
She reaches for me, but I jerk back, desperately fighting to stop myself from crying. My heels slamming into the tile floor echo like a gunshot.
Then a toilet flushes.
The door to the bathroom stall inches open on squeaky hinges. Blond hair peeks through the crack first, followed slowly by Sloane’s face.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Blaire gets the full weight of my glare. “Really?”
I don’t give her a chance to respond; I’m out the door faster than words can leap out of her mouth. What could she possibly say anyway?
For once, the blast of music that hits me in the face as I head back into the main room is welcome. It’s loud enough to drown out all the thoughts that are rioting in my head. From across the room I catch sight of Kyle, leaning against the bar, sipping a drink. Seeing him is like jumping in the ocean on a hundred-degree day—it just washes everything else away.
As I make my way toward him, I argue with myself. Maybe him leaving his jacket at Kerry’s wasn’t what I think it is. Maybe I’m misinterpreting things. Maybe things really were “alright.” Or maybe he had a great date and slept with her, and I really just don’t care because he’s here with me and not with her, and that’s what matters, right?
A hand tightens around my elbow and I stumble to a stop.
“Hey, Haley,” Harrison says, his eyes scanning the room. “You haven’t seen my wife anywhere have you? She disappeared and threw me to the wolves.”
“She’s in the bathroom.”
“Figures.” He clears his throat. “Listen, I uh, just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I mean with—”
“I’m fine. Really.” This time I almost mean it. “Listen, I’ve got to get back to my date.”
His fingers loosen, and he gives me a quick nod.
Slipping by him, I’m a few feet away when Kyle spots me. He sets his drink on top of the bar and levels me with a smile.
I slip my arm through his, and it feels like coming home. “Dance with me.”
“You want a drink or something first?” His head tilts to the side.
I haven’t had a sip of alcohol all night despite how much I could’ve used one. And at the moment, the only thing I want is Kyle. Somehow I think being in his arms will be more therapeutic than any amount of alcohol. “No. I want you to dance with me. Right now.”
Chapter 26
Kyle
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. With her fingers linked through mine, I shoulder my way through a bunch of guests until we’re standing on the dance floor. The lighting is dim, but even in it I have no trouble seeing Haley’s face. She’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the entire room, like I’m the only thing that matters.
A slow number pumps through the speakers and she lifts her arms to lace her fingers around the back of my neck. Her fingertips graze the ends of my hair and I want to tip my head back so she can run them all the way through it. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I tug her closer until we’re chest-to-chest. We sway together, getting swallowed up by the music.
I’ve never been good at reading body language, at picking up the subtle cues thrown off by the opposite sex. So, I’m having trouble interpreting the look that’s flashing in Haley’s eyes. She hasn’t looked away once, and I couldn’t pry my gaze away if I wanted to. I hope Haley’s as terrible at reading people as I am, because right now I’m an open book. Everything I’m feeling is right there for her to see. And on a scale of one to ten, I’m probably feeling a hundred times more than I should.
With a fingernail, she traces along the edge of my collar, the corner of her mouth kicking up on one side.
The sight of it, the way she’s practically devouring me with her eyes, makes my heart sprout wings and take flight out of my chest.
Pale purple light splashes across her face, disappearing and reappearing as we turn in circles around the dance floor. For a second, her gaze slides away from mine and her entire body tenses. A small muscle jumps in her jaw and her smile evaporates.
I lift a hand to brush my finger across her cheek. “Haley, what’s—”
Without any warning, she tightens her grip on me and drags my mouth down to hers, crushing my lips. I’m so shocked that I don’t even respond. It’s all awkward and uncoordinated, one of the worst kisses I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I don’t even have the presence of mind to close my eyes because I’m taken so off guard. What the hell is going on?
I grip her by the shoulders and push her away. She immediately takes a step back, sucking in a deep breath. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks a little pale, and she presses a hand to her mouth.
“What was that?”
Her gaze darts over my shoulder and then back. “N-Nothing.”
I don’t want to look. Every cell in my entire body screams at me not to turn around. But I do, already knowing what I’m going to see. A few feet away, Luke watches us, one hand tucked inside his jacket pocket. Just behind him I catch sight of the blonde and her sister, the groom too, all watching us with speculative looks.
My hand fists at my side as I turn back around. “Did you get what you were looking for tonight?” I throw a hand out to the side, gesturing toward them. “Did I put on a good enough show for you?”
“Kyle.” Her hand reaches out for me, but I take a hasty step away and it falls back to her side.
“No. Just no.” I force myself to swallow around the resurrected memories that are clogging my throat. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Then I turn around and leave her standing in the middle of the dance floor.
* * *
The breeze tugs at my hair, and hard wood digs into my elbows as I lean against the railing. Twenty minutes may have given me enough space for my brain to dive back into rational thought, but dammit if I’m not still pissed. There’s this little voice in my head telling me that I’m overreacting, that I knew I was doing her a favor coming to the wedding with her. And besides, what right do I have to be pissed at her after everything I’ve done?
But that favor didn’t include me kissing her. Or really, her smashing her face into mine in something that kinda looked like a kiss, but was really a thousand shades of awful, messy lip-mashing.
The truth is that I would have done it if she’d asked. She didn’t ask though, she just took what she wanted regardless of how it might affect me. How I might be feeling. Christ, how does she not know what she does to me?
Bottom line: Haley used me tonight.
I’ve been there, done that, and I’m not doing it again because fuck that. My inability to read people? Apparently it’s reached epic proportions with my misjudgment of Haley. Who would’ve guessed that she’d be just like my ex? Not me, that’s for damn sure.
My chest gives a twinge where my heart flutters its snipped wings inside its new cage. I can’t believe I was actually stupid enough to read into tonight and think there was more happening than there was. I should’ve known better. Hell, she even told me this wasn’t a date. Haley put on a good show for my family, but her performance tonight was stellar. She couldn’t have fooled me more.
I rub my eyes, which’re growing itchier by the second from these damn contact lenses. I didn’t even remember to bring eye drops. My glasses are sitting at home on my nightstand, where I purposefully left them. Stupid guy that I am, I convinced myself to wear the lenses so that I could look better for her. So that when we walked into this stupid wedding people didn’t judge her for bringing me. So that when they saw us together it might actually look like I deserved to be with her.
Screw it. They can think what they want. Yanking on my tie, I loosen it and shrug out of my jacket. I flip back the long sleeves of my shirt and roll them up to my elbows. It’s time to get out of here, with or without Haley.
I leave the salty, humid air behind and slip back into the air-conditioning. The music is still loud, people are still dancing and drinking and laughing. Nothing’s changed since I left. Apparently the sound of my heart cracking wasn’t loud enough to disturb them.
I peer over the heads around me, searching for Haley. In a crowd of black and silver dresses, her red one is hard to miss. She’s a bright splash of color in a room of hushed tones. I find her at our table, sitting alone with her hands folded in her lap and her head down.
“Haley, I’m gonna head out. You ready to go or do you wanna catch a ride with someone else?”
She pushes to her feet. “I think I’ve had about enough for tonight.”
You and me both.
She glances up at me, but I can’t even look at her. She’s like a completely different person now. Someone who recognized I was a nice guy and took advantage of me.
We walk to the front in silence.
We wait for the valet to bring around the car in silence.
And then we ride home in silence.
When we finally pull into her parking lot, she turns to me, one hand wrapped around her purse, the other on the door handle. “Kyle, I never meant…” She snags her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m so sorry.”
I give her a quick, jerky nod, not trusting myself to say anything. I’m caught somewhere between the urge to yell at her and wanting to cry. Neither of those options sound like a good one at the moment. What I really need is to go home, have a long, stiff drink, and then try to forget this ever happened. I have to, because if I don’t, it has the possibility to destroy me. She’s pretty much already annihilated the small amount of trust I’d built up after Stacy smashed it beneath her Louboutin heels.
I stare down at the steering wheel, inspecting the patterns in the leather until the door closes behind her. And because I’m a chump, once I know she’s not looking at me anymore, I peek out the window for one last glimpse of her. I wait until she disappears inside her building because even though the sight of her physically hurts right now, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.
Earlier, I never wanted this day to end, but right now I wish I could rewind time and never let it happen to begin with.
Chapter 27
Haley
I spent the first few days after the wedding ignoring Kyle. Regret and shame were the only company I had during my lonely lunch hour, eating soggy PB&J at my desk. I was so appalled by what I did that I couldn’t even text Clark for support because then I’d have to admit what I did. By Wednesday, I finally worked up the courage to face him and apologize, but it looked like I was needlessly dodging him. Kyle was just as actively avoiding me.
The breeze tugs at the hem of my pink sundress, and I tilt my head back to look up at my office building. Glass stretches up toward the sky, white puffy clouds reflecting off its surface. My thumb traces along the edge of the brown leather belt that wraps around my waist.
Trying to pin down Kyle is like attempting to twist a doorknob with wet hands—frustrating, difficult, and nearly impossible. So, after receiving an e-mail yesterday about rebooting and migrating servers this weekend (whatever that means), I devised a plan that involved showing up at the office on a Saturday, hoping he’d let me into the IT room to let me apologize, and if not, delivering my preplanned speech through the closed door. Even if the worst happens, I have dinner plans with Tara in half an hour so heading home to wallow some more isn’t an option.
Pushing open the heavy door, I walk through the quiet lobby and depress the button for the elevator. When the doors open on my floor, I take a cautious step out. It’s eerie being here when no one else is. All the lights are on, but other than the drone of the air-conditioning, it’s silent.
I inch up to the IT-room door, surprised to find it slightly ajar. Leaning back against the wall, I
take a deep breath. I know what I need to say, but I’m terrified that after I’ve finally gotten it out, I’ll be walking back out with a Kyle-shaped hole in my life.
Taking a step closer, I peer around the doorjamb. Four monitors glow back at me, the back of Kyle’s head blotting out the majority of one. His fingers fly across the keyboard, an assortment of green characters flashing across the screen that make about as much sense to me as an alien language. For all I know, he could be signaling to the mother ship right now.
I step into the doorway, simultaneously giving a quick knock on the door and pushing it open.
Kyle jumps, spinning around in his chair. His hand clenches the armrest, and his expression goes from startled to wary in a millisecond. “What are you doing here?”
I shuffle forward. “I’ve been trying to track you down, but you haven’t really been making it easy for me.”
The chair squeaks as he leans back in it, and his gaze shifts away from me.
I lace my fingers together, squeezing until my knuckles dig into my fingertips. “I’m not here to bother you, and I don’t want to take up your time, but I hope you’ll let me apologize for what happened last weekend.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t stop worrying about it. What I did was inexcusable, and I can’t blame you for not wanting to speak to me.” I drop my eyes to the ground. “I just want you to know that’s not why I asked you to come. I wanted you there because I wanted you there. Not because I was trying to prove a point, or anything like that. And I didn’t … I didn’t kiss you just because of Luke. I did it for me too.”
A small line etches itself into Kyle’s forehead as his eyebrows pull together. “What are you talking about?”
Words crash together in my brain as they fight for my attention, ricocheting off each other like shoppers exploding through the entrance of Wal-Mart on Black Friday. I planned exactly what I wanted to say, I just didn’t anticipate him responding at all.
“I may have been”—I wave my hands in front of me—“developing feelings for you for … quite a while.” I don’t have access to a mirror, but even without it I know I’m blushing.