The Tethered Soul of Easton Green: The Tethered Soul Series Book 1

by Laura C. Reden

My mouth watered as the nutty warmth of coffee wafted through the air. Easton closed the distance. He placed the coffee and the bag of treats down on my nightstand. Without a thought in my head, I reached out. Wrapping my finger into his belt loop, and I pulled him toward me.

  Sometimes, it’s luck. Sometimes the stars align so perfectly, the unthinkable happens. Then, there are times where dreams meet reality. It boils down to fate. It didn’t matter where my stars fell from here on out. I’d found Easton, and I wasn’t going to let go—today, physically speaking. We’d spend the day fooling around in bed until the daylight gave way to the darkness. Beyond that, I don’t know what it meant. But I’d have to imagine that when I passed on, my heart would be staying with him. Because I was no longer its owner.

  Chapter 22

  Chloe’s mom placed a delicate crystal tiara in her daughter’s hair. It was the finishing touch to the most beautiful bride I’d ever seen. Even though she wasn’t the bride I would have handpicked for my brother, she was the one that was meant to be. And that made her beautiful. Sometimes there are right choices and wrong choices. Sometimes it’s right for right now. I had high hopes she would be my brother’s Harold. And if I, for some reason, turned into a ghost after all of this was over, I would follow them and do what I could to keep them on track. Likewise, I might haunt her if she ever did him wrong.

  It was probably my ignorance talking. Perhaps my love for my brother. But it was hard to imagine anyone having a bond like the one that I shared with Easton. I knew it was special. But I would even go as far as to say it was one-of-a-kind love. And if that was the case, where did that leave Carter and Chloe? Where did that leave all the other couples in the world? Was love on a spectrum?

  “She looks stunning, doesn’t she?” Mom whispered in my ear. She had tears in her eyes.

  “Mom, you’re going to ruin your makeup before the wedding even starts!” I shook my head. What was she doing? “Control yourself,” I scolded with a half-smile, both appalled by and poking fun of her weakness.

  She slapped my shoulder and dabbed the corners of her eyes with a tissue. “Stop that!” she hissed.

  It was in those tears that I realized how difficult this evening would be for me. Because for every tear my mom would shed, I would have none. I couldn’t find it in my heart to forget my unfortunate fate. Though, that’s what I needed to do for the happiness to peek through. It’s not the dying part that upset me, but all the things I'd never be able to do. All of the moments I’d miss out on. And on such a momentous night, I realized I was afraid to watch what I could never have.

  My mom handed me a full glass of champagne. My stomach churned. I looked around the room at the women brought together as a mark of Chloe’s past and future.

  I was neither. Chloe’s mother held her glass up, “To my little girl, my starlight, my Coco . . .”

  I sighed. On accident.

  “I’m so happy you’ve found your soulmate. To a life filled with happiness and babies! Lots and lots of babies!” Her mom held her champagne in the air and gave Chloe an air kiss on both cheeks. Her grandmother grumbled something inaudible as she lifted her glass before downing it in two gulps.

  I didn’t pretend. I just placed my champagne flute, as full as it was given to me, on a table near my side. My mom set her empty glass on the table before picking up mine and swallowing it. She gave me a look, out of the corner of her eye, as she gulped it down. A look I didn’t recognize and couldn’t decipher.

  I walked down the aisle on the arm of Carter’s best friend Nick. His best man. Fresh daisies and red ribbon lined the church's pews and covered an arch above the minister’s head. Guests filled the seats, and I could feel the stares. I was suddenly less focused on the irony of my childhood dream—walking down the aisle with my older brother’s best friend—and more focused on not tripping. My heels were a good four inches, and that was about four inches more than I knew how to walk in. I never had the chance to practice, though I had planned to. Nick smiled and nodded at the strangers on each side of the aisle. He was a natural, and had my life taken another path, this could have been my reality. I looked down, not to see a white wedding gown but a thin satin shift dress. Purple.

  I took my place on stage and stole a peek at Easton. He sat in the second row, wearing a black suit and a warm, encouraging smile. His hair was gelled so that it still looked disheveled, but in a way that would not come undone. I imagined him standing in the mirror, trying to get it just right. It was working to calm my nerves.

  When the “Wedding March” began, and all invasive eyes turned to the back of the room, I took a deep sigh of relief. I looked down at my heels and took several therapeutic breaths. I didn’t want to see the bride in all her glory. I was afraid of what I might feel. Jealousy was the green-eyed bitch, and I didn’t need that weighing on my conscience. I looked to Easton instead. Our eyes met. A stolen moment in a room full of people. He gave me the courage to face my inner struggle. To face the bride as she walked down the aisle—a vision that is every little girl’s dream.

  It was as painful as I imagined. Chloe beamed with love from head to toe. Her normal tackiness subdued. And if I didn’t know her, I might even say she looked elegant. Her hands were buried deep in daisies and a large red ribbon bow. Her tiara sparkled as much as her eyes as she set her sights on my brother. Carter’s gaze met hers, and it wasn’t until that moment, when I saw the joy emitting from my brother, that I realized I had room in my heart to be both happy for them and sad for me, all at the same time.

  I threw my head back, willing the tears to suck back in their ducts, but it was no use. I was my mother’s daughter. I gave up, lowered my head, and they ran freely down my cheeks. I glanced at Easton, who was now sympathetic. They must have been some tears if he could see them from the second row. I only hoped that waterproof mascara wasn’t a gimmick.

  If I thought I was losing it then, I was mistaken. My tears were just warming up. A mere appetizer to a five-course meal. The night was young, and the handwritten vows had yet to begin.

  “Chloe, when you came into my life, I wasn’t thinking of settling down and getting married. But when I got to know you, and I saw what you were doing to me, I knew that I would be stupid to let you go. You make me want to be a better person. And I promise you, from here on out, I will strive to be the best husband there ever was. And with you by my side, I think I can be that for you. I love you.” Carter’s vow was shaky and full of promise.

  It’s the second time in my life I’d seen my brother speak with such depth and emotion. The first being when Easton and I cornered him at his work to talk about his bride.

  I didn’t have a good view of Chloe’s face, so I peered down into her bouquet of daisies in my hand when she spoke her vows.

  “Carter, it’s with—” Chloe cleared her throat and stiffened her notes in front of her, and began again.

  “Carter, it is with you, that I have finally found myself. I know, when I look into your eyes, not only who I am, but who I want to be. Thank you for being the kind, loving, and accepting man that you are. And thank you for taking me on as your co-captain. It won’t be easy; I can promise you that. But it will be a life to remember, full of love and laughter. I can’t wait to see what our future holds with my hand in yours. I love you.” Chloe choked. I lifted my eyes to see her folding up her notes into a tiny square.

  My mind drifted to a faraway place; a place where it was me who was slipping into a wedding gown, and Easton waiting for me at the end of a long and lush rose covered aisle. The beautiful imagery in my head was shattered when the minister spoke.

  “In sickness, and in health . . .”

  My stomach cramped like a small dagger had been thrust into it. The rush of bitter acid in my throat. It was enough to make me cough. Tears welled up again, but this time for a different reason. My mouth was now sour, and I was relieved that soon, I would be able to get off the stage and out of the limelight. Soon, I promised myself.

  “You may
kiss the bride,” the minister said.

  My brother kissed his new bride, at first sweetly, then bending her over backward. Her leg kicked up in the air, and everyone cheered. My heart was so happy for him, but the smile never came. I hated myself for it. I felt like a burden. And if I could change anything about this whole process, I would change my control over how I acted. I wanted my genuine emotions to show. But it never came out that way. My happiness was shadowed by jealousy, and my fear was hidden in anger. My lack of control was clouded by sadness.

  “You did great!” Easton reached for my arm. The masses were on their way out of the church. Some lingered behind to talk to friends or family.

  “I cried,” I informed him.

  Easton smiled, “I know.” I shot him a look of concern before he added, “but you can’t tell!” in a rush of words, aimed to make me feel less self-conscious.

  “I’m glad that’s over. I felt like I might pass out, and there was this one point where I threw up in my mouth! Just a little.” I pressed my hand to my forehead. All of the emotion was taking a physical toll on me.

  “The hard part is over. Now let’s have some fun.” Easton grabbed me tight around the waist and pulled me into him. “Wow, this dress is thin!” His eyes widened and his grasp tightened.

  “I know! I feel so naked!” I admitted.

  Easton’s hands wandered, stopping ever so slightly over my sacrum. “Are you . . .” His eyes glistened as his palm searched for a panty line.

  I shook my head, trying to contain my embarrassment, though reveling in the fact that I could excite him so easily. “You dirty dog, is that all you think about?” I joked.

  “Well, it’s hard not to notice these little details about you.” Easton squeezed my waist, and I squealed in response.

  The room was nearly empty, and I was aware that we should be heading to the reception hall. It was only a ten-minute drive from the church, and I couldn’t be late.

  “I’d love to hide here with you, but I need to get to the reception,” I said.

  “I’ll drive.”

  It was a beautiful day for a wedding. The sky was painted in orange and pink as the sun set for the night, tired after a day’s hard work. Easton and I walked hand in hand to his car, and I stabled my wobbly balance with his strength.

  The reception hall was grand and I was impressed that it felt intimate, given its size. The dim overhead lights gave way to the romantic fairy lights sprinkled throughout the tables and buffet. Candles glowed on every white tablecloth, and daisies were tucked in every nook and cranny. It was a lot of hard work that came together in the end in one beautiful display. My eyes wandered over the tables, and the guests finding their seats. I was sitting between Easton and Nick. If I had it my way, I wouldn’t spend the night sandwiched between an old ember and a current flame. But, as I stated before, I was not in control of this beautiful disaster that was my life.

  I took my seat, thankful for the reprieve. It had only been a handful of weeks since I was diagnosed, but I felt the toll beginning to take hold. The air had shifted ever so slightly, and I was starting to notice things. Little things. Like, I always felt like I was fighting off a cold. I had to take a three-hour nap mid-morning just to have the strength to socialize tonight. I imagined it must be how the elderly felt. Napping. Being exhausted from doing nothing more than watching their soap operas. It sounded quite nice, actually. Tranquil almost.

  I noticed my voice cracking more often too. Now and then, it would feel like something was lodged in my throat. A pill capsized halfway down. My breathing had been reduced to sucking air through a straw. The moment I noticed that the symptoms were too apparent to ignore, I began to hide them. Much like I did with my doctor's missed telephone calls, I tried to sweep my destiny under the rug. Out of sight, out of mind. But I knew it didn’t work this way, and I knew at some point—hopefully, later than sooner—they would not go unnoticed. It was then, and only then when I would succumb to telling my parents.

  Chapter 23

  Nick took his seat next to me but not before he held a chair out for his date. She was a pretty, blond-haired girl, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought she looked a lot like me. But unlike me, she wore a dress that was both sexy and obscure.

  “Hey, Beckette, you did great out there!”

  Nick called me by an old familiar nickname. He called my brother Beck, and even though my friends called me the same, he had to have a way to differentiate between the two of us. Hence, Beckette.

  “That was nerve-wracking, huh? All of those eyes!” I turned my attention to his girlfriend. “Hi, I’m Carter’s sister, Everly.”

  I reached over Nick and shook her hand. Ugh . . . it was a limp one. Before I could introduce Easton, Nick had done it himself, leaning into me as he shook Easton’s hand. The whole exchange more like a game of Twister than anything else.

  I felt the subtlety of his lean into my chest. Not noticeable to either of our dates, but a closeness deemed unnecessary. It seems that I may not have been the only one with revived memories of our youth dredging up old feelings by walking down the aisle together.

  I reached my hand over the back of Easton and rubbed his shoulder. A public display of affection. Nick responded with a mirrored image as he claimed his date. The small talk began. Nick sized up Easton, asking what he did for a living and yada, yada, yada. I once valued this information myself. Not because of how fat his wallet was with potential but because of the insight of interests and drive. Now I only cared what Easton’s soul looked like. Not his face or body. I didn’t care what he did for work or fun. One hundred percent of my love for him was based on something intangible and something you could never uncover with a question from across the dinner table.

  Our last couple joined us at the table, completing our setting for six. It was Alice and her date. A cute nerdy boy with box-rimmed glasses and suspenders.

  “Hi everyone. Hi Everly!” Alice waived to me.

  I smiled, thankful to have someone I liked at our table.

  “I’m Audrey, and this is Benjamin.”

  Audrey!

  My heart skipped a beat at the thought that I almost introduced her to our table under the wrong name . . .

  “Oh! I’ve heard so much about you and all the fun you had with . . .”—Easton looked at me, eyes filled with mischief—“Simon!”

  I thrust my jaw to the side and gave his shoulder a squeeze that was more like a pinch. He wouldn’t!

  Audrey threw her freckled face back and cackled like a witch. “Oh, your girl Everly’s a riot!”

  “Ohhh, you have no idea!” Easton’s eyes beamed.

  I stiffened at his side. My face flushed red with the embarrassment of spending an entire evening with a man I thought was someone else. The only thing more embarrassing than that would be if Easton told the story right here, right now. The butterflies swirled in my chest at the very thought.

  I was lucky enough to be reminded why I loved him so much; he kept my secret a joke between the two of us, right where it belonged. But the embarrassment of that night wasn’t all under lock and key. Audrey had memories of her own to spill, and that she did. The table laughed along with her as she retold her version of the night. I laughed at the fact that the truth was far more outrageous. And she would never know.

  Everyone stood with applause when the bride and groom were announced. Waiters and waitresses swarmed the room, spreading salad plates and pouring either red or white wine. I chose red, even though I wouldn’t take more than a taste. My hot plate of chicken breast, asparagus, and garlic roasted potatoes looked as divine as it smelled, but it wasn’t enough to bring back my appetite. I spent a long time moving the food around on my plate so that I would look at least half engaged, but the truth was, my stomach had turned sour during the ceremony, and it had yet to recover.

  “How do you all know the bride and groom?” Benjamin gestured to the rest of the table guests with his fork.

  I took a deep breath, preparing myself
for an answer, but Nick beat me to it.

  “I’ve grown up with the Becks. Carter and I go way back! Everly too.” Nick put his elbow in my side.

  “Yeah, it was Nick, my brother, and Hope. A couple other kids that I didn’t know very well too, but we all lived in the same neighborhood and grew up together. There was always a plethora of neighborhood kids at one house or another at any given time,” I added.

  Nick knew that I never hung out with them. Nobody wants to hang out with their little sister, anyway. His angle made me nervous, and I wondered if he was trying to intimidate Easton. The joke was on him, though; that would never work.

  “How did you two meet?” Nick’s girlfriend asked Audrey.

  “Oh, we met in middle school, but we didn’t start dating until after high school graduation.” Audrey shook her head as if there was no story there. “What about you guys, Everly? How did you meet?” Audrey threw the ball in my court.

  A panic set over me. I wasn’t as rehearsed as Easton was. “Oh!” I scrambled to remember the story he told my parents about the bridge. He’d altered it so that I had a flat tire.

  “We met at a college party!” Easton said as he stretched tall and placed his arm around my shoulders. “Craziest night of my life!”

  This ought to be good . . . I couldn’t keep my smile in. I was embarrassed about the lie yet excited to hear the make-believe memory. It was a new identity. And if I could be someone else just for that moment, I was going to do it.

  “I saw her there.” Easton placed a hand out like he was remembering me, and I snickered, covering my mouth with my hands. “She was like an angel. I fell for her without ever knowing her name. She looked at me from across the room, and we just knew.” Easton’s voice trailed off as he shook his head back and forth for dramatic flair.

  I was sucked into the story as was the rest of the table. Only Nick stirred with disinterest.

  “The cops rushed in, and everybody fled each and every way. But my eyes were set on Everly. I made sure that where she ran, I followed. We darted out of the house and down the streets. The crowd dwindled to half a dozen of us. It was someone’s bright idea to take refuge in his friend’s house that was only a couple of blocks away. But his friend wasn’t home! What were we to do now?”