I mean, that was what I always wanted.
But my heart really wasn’t into finding a long-lost second cousin of Brooklyn’s that was my age. I wasn’t ready to meet another man. What I really wanted was for Max to see me in this dress, and for Max to find me attractive.
I’d tried to deny it. But denial had never been my best weapon. Reality was my best weapon. I had to confront and embrace reality and find a way to make it work for me.
The seamstress joined us, checking the fit of our dresses.
She was unhappy with Nat’s waistline and Sophie’s neck. So the two of them followed her across the shop for alterations.
“Do you miss him?” Brooklyn asked me, meeting my gaze in the mirror again.
“Who?”
“Max.”
I was surprised that she’d asked. I was a little worried that she’d asked. Vegas truly was better left in the dust.
“No.” I was determined. Fake it ’til you make it and all that.
“Liar,” Brooklyn said.
I gave my bare shoulders a shrug. “There’s nothing to miss. It was a thing, and then it wasn’t. It ran its course.”
“Is that how you remember it?”
“It’s like missing a chocolate milkshake after you drank it. It was good, but it was never going to last forever.” I tried for a lighter tone. “For one thing, they melt.”
“Guys like Max don’t melt.”
“They don’t last, either.”
Brooklyn nodded, and then she got a faraway look in her eyes.
I couldn’t stay silent anymore. “What about Colton?”
She didn’t respond.
“Brooklyn?”
“Hmm?”
“Colton?”
She blinked her way back. “I made the decision to leave Colton. It was final.”
I accepted that. “I made a final decision to leave Max.”
“My final and your final are not the same thing.”
“They’re both final.”
She seemed to think about that. “You know, you were right all along.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I kept the jokes running, afraid of letting the conversation get completely serious.
“Colton was a fantasy,” Brooklyn said. “I got cold feet. But right is right, and marrying James is right.”
I took heart. “That’s good.”
She linked her arm with mine. “But you’re still allowed to miss Max. You know, in the middle of the night when you’re thinking about his cut bod and the way he made you moan.”
“He didn’t...” I didn’t know why I would deny it to Brooklyn.
I needed to be honest with her at least. It was the way to get our relationship back on an even keel. And I desperately wanted our relationship back on an even keel.
“Fine,” I said. “He was off-the-charts—as a lover, I mean.”
“I knew what you meant. Nobody can take away your memories.”
“That’s right.”
The memories were mine to keep.
“And it gives you a benchmark,” Brooklyn said. “Like James gives me a benchmark.”
“He does?” I was beyond heartened to hear that.
“You know he does, for honesty, integrity, kindness and hard work.”
I wanted to ask about sex. Then I wanted to ask if she was madly in love with James. I opened my mouth, but chickened out.
She loved him. She definitely loved him. She always had and she always would, and that was the foundation of a good marriage, a great marriage. She and James had all the ingredients of a great marriage.
“He’s funny, too,” I said, instead.
“A dry wit,” she agreed.
“Did you tell him...?” I struggled with the nerve to finish the question. “Anything at all?”
“I told him I’d gotten nervous.”
Since Brooklyn hadn’t slept with Colton, I supposed that was probably enough.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“That he was grateful I was back.”
“I know he is.”
“Thank you for doing it.”
“For lying to James?” I realized this might be the right time to bring up his outburst.
Then again, this was probably exactly the wrong time to bring up his outburst.
“For coming after me,” she said.
I liked that we were being honest again. I wanted the heart-to-heart to keep going.
“If I hadn’t...would you have come back?”
“I don’t know.” She got the faraway look again. “I was in pretty deep. It was fun and frivolous and overwhelming. I wanted to stay in the whirlwind forever.”
“That’s how I felt, too. Max was a whirlwind of exhilaration. But twisters are exhausting, and they can kill you in the end.”
“They are. They do,” Brooklyn said. Her gaze held mine for a moment. Then she turned and took my hands. “Thank you, Layla. You kept me from making a very big mistake.”
I felt a welling behind my eyes. “I’m glad. You’re welcome. You can always count on me.”
“I know.”
Ten
Organ music rose through the church rafters and the perfume of white moonstone roses wafted through the foyer where the bridal party was gathered. The stretch limousine that had dropped us off now waited at the bottom of the sweeping concrete stairway to take the bride and groom to Briarfield Park for photos after the ceremony.
James and Brooklyn had picked the park’s west gardens as a backdrop. The mottled browns and deep green would highlight Brooklyn’s white dress and our pale azure.
The July weather had cooperated. If anything, it was too hot for the groomsmen in their formal suits. But the garden was shaded, which the photographer told us was perfect for the pictures.
So we had that going for us.
Brooklyn’s dad, Patrick, took a stealthy peep through the doorway.
“It looks like they’re ready for us,” he said.
Nat, who was to be first down the aisle, moved to the edge of the doorway, still out of sight from the congregation but ready to walk as soon as she got the musical cue.
Brooklyn had chosen “A Thousand Years.” I thought it was perfect. Everything about the ceremony was going to be perfect—from the music to the flowers to the vows.
We were all ready.
I gave my skirt a final swish to make sure it wasn’t developing static. Then I straightened my bouquet in front of me. My sandals felt good so far, and I knew my hair was in place.
I suddenly felt Brooklyn’s hand on my arm.
She squeezed hard, and I turned sharply to see what was wrong.
Her eyes were huge, and her cheeks were flushed against her pale skin.
“What?” I asked, worried the heat might be getting to her.
“Layla.” There was apprehension in her voice.
“What’s wrong? Are you dizzy? Do you feel faint?”
It was really hot here in the church, over eighty-five degrees outside. And I knew Brooklyn hadn’t eaten anything today. I tried to remember the last time she’d even had a drink of water. As her maid of honor, I should have paid more attention.
“I can’t,” she said in a breathless voice.
“You can’t what?”
She shook her head.
My heart started sinking fast.
She couldn’t be talking about the wedding. Not now. Not right now.
“I’m scared,” she said.
“Of what?”
Patrick arrived beside us. “Here we go. You look stunning, Brooklyn.” He placed her hand on his crooked elbow.
Brooklyn looked at me for help, but I didn’t know what to do. Should I say something? Should I take her aside?
“You should go, Layla,” her father prompted, directing with a meaningful glance to where Nat and Sophie had moved into the open doorway.
The organist started playing “A Thousand Years.”
“Brooklyn?” I asked.
This was real. This was forever. As much as I longed for her to marry James, I couldn’t ignore the stark expression on her face.
Then, behind us, one of the outer church doors swung open. The double doors were wide and heavy, made of thick polished oak with black iron hinges that groaned with the effort.
A hot breeze blew in as I turned.
My heart thudded hard when I saw Max silhouetted by the sun. But it stopped abruptly when I saw it wasn’t Max.
It was Colton. Colton was standing in the church doorway.
He was dressed in blue jeans and a soft blue button-down shirt. His hair was messy, and a sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
I don’t know why those details seemed important. But in my brain, time had slowed—every second was an eternity.
He spotted Brooklyn and froze.
She froze, too. She grabbed my arm again. This time her grip was even tighter than before.
Patrick frowned at Colton. “Excuse me. We’re about to start a wedding ceremony.”
Colton broke from his pose and marched toward us.
“Brooklyn,” he said.
“No,” I said. “No, no.” This couldn’t be happening.
Everything was perfect. Everything!
Brooklyn sucked in a breath. It was both a gasp and a whimper.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Patrick demanded of Colton.
Colton focused on Brooklyn. “Can we talk?”
I reflexively wrapped an arm around Brooklyn.
“You can’t do this,” I said to Colton.
But then I saw Max.
This time it really was Max in the doorway. My heart staggered to a temporary stop.
“Please,” Colton said, although his voice seemed to be far away from me now.
My arm slowly dropped to my side.
I drank in the sight of Max—the blue of his eyes, the rakish stubble of his chin, the muss of his hair and the breadth of his shoulders straining against an olive-green T-shirt. He was my every dream come to life.
“What is this?” Patrick bellowed. “Who is this?”
“Brooklyn, please.” Colton was in front of her now, barely inches away.
“Don’t you dare touch my daughter,” Patrick said.
Max moved my way.
“You can’t be here,” I told him.
“I couldn’t stop him,” Max said, slowing in front of me. His gaze held mine. “Truth is, I wouldn’t stop him. I didn’t want to stop him.”
Nat and Sophie were staring, openmouthed, their bouquets now dangling by their sides.
It occurred to me that the congregation could see them. The minister could see them. James could see them.
Everyone in the church would know something was wrong back here.
“This is Colton,” Brooklyn said to her father.
“Who is Colton? What’s he doing here? Was he invited?”
My eyes begged Max to do something. I wasn’t honestly sure what I wanted him to do.
Brooklyn had been freaking out a few moments ago. She was calm now. She was focused on Colton. She was gazing up at him as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
There was no way to pretend she wanted to marry James.
It was an utter disaster, but marrying James would be an even bigger disaster.
Colton was her soul mate. Any fool could see that.
“Oh, no,” I whispered under my breath.
Max was the only person who heard. “There’s nothing we can do to change it.”
I wished there was. I truly wished there was something I could do to fix this.
Max took my hand. “Don’t even try.”
“Dad—” Brooklyn said.
James burst through the doorway. “What’s wrong? Is somebody hurt?”
Nat and Sophie stumbled over each other getting out of his way.
“What is he doing here?” James demanded.
“You know him, James?” Patrick asked.
“It’s Max, Layla’s...” James spotted Max holding my hand.
His gaze flew back to Colton. There was a snarl on his face and a challenging rumble in his deep tone. “Who, exactly, are you?”
“James, we have to talk,” Brooklyn said.
But James’s gaze didn’t waver from Colton.
I squeezed Max’s hand. I couldn’t believe this nightmare was unfolding in front of my eyes. I wanted to say something. I wanted to do something. I wanted to help James and Brooklyn, but I had no idea how.
My parents appeared then, along with Brooklyn’s mother.
“For goodness sake, close the doors,” Patrick barked.
My dad shut the double doors behind him.
“Brooklyn,” James said. “You better explain.”
“Come with me,” Colton said to Brooklyn.
Brooklyn didn’t respond. She looked like she was in shock. She was pale, and I thought she might actually faint.
I tugged my hand from Max’s and elbowed Colton out of the way. I took both of Brooklyn’s hands in mine.
“Look at me,” I told her. “Look at me.”
She did.
“You can’t decide like this.”
“But—”
“You can’t. Let’s walk outside. Let’s breathe for a minute.”
She stared at me. Then the uncertainty vanished from her face and she started to smile.
I suddenly saw the girl from the jungle gym, and the beach and the floater—the one who got free milkshakes and raced me until we were exhausted.
The old Brooklyn was back.
“I love you, Layla,” she said.
“I know you do. I love you, too.”
“You’re my best and forever friend.”
“I know that, too.”
She looked to James. “I’m so sorry, James. I’m so incredibly sorry. This is all my fault.” A tear then formed in her eye. “And, Dad, please know I didn’t plan for this to happen. Please forgive me.”
“What is this about?” Patrick asked.
“I have to go,” she said. “I’m so...”
She looked at Colton, and he reached for her, taking her arm, drawing her to him.
In seconds, his arm was protectively around her and he was spiriting her out of the church foyer onto the sidewalk.
“Come with us,” Max said into my ear.
I couldn’t even process the request.
My attention was on James. He’d gone from ruddy anger to a face that was pale as a ghost.
Behind him, my parents looked like they’d been blindsided, which they had. I hadn’t seen that expression of confusion and disappointment on my mother’s face since she caught Brooklyn and me dipping into the rum-punch bowl when we were sixteen.
I wanted to tell them Brooklyn hadn’t cheated. I needed to tell them that much.
I also needed to apologize for my part in it all. I’d obviously made a mistake somewhere along the line—lots of mistakes, really.
Things would have been better if I’d left Brooklyn in Vegas. I shouldn’t have tried so hard to bring her back. I should have listened to what she was trying to tell me. I shouldn’t have been so selfish about wanting her for a sister-in-law.
“Let’s go,” Max said, taking my hand again.
I snapped it back, awash in guilt. “I can’t leave.”
My family was hurt. They’d been deeply wounded by Max’s family. They were staring at him right now as if he was the enemy, which in many ways he was.
They felt betrayed. I’d feel betr
ayed if I was them. And I was the only person who could explain. Not that I had the first clue of what to say to make things better.
“It’s not up to you to fix anything,” Max said, seeming to read my mind.
“They’re my parents. He’s my brother.”
“I have to go,” Max said, putting a question, an invitation and a demand all into his expression at once.
“Then go,” I said.
“Layla.”
“Go!” I repeated.
He took a backward step, watching me as he went. Then he took another, and another, his expression hardening with each one.
My heart cried out too late.
He was already gone into the blinding sunlight.
* * *
“I know how James feels,” Nat said to me.
We were on the porch at the back of my parents’ house gazing at the lights in the garden.
It was Saturday, nearly a month after the debacle of the wedding. My parents had insisted James come out to the friends-and-family barbecue. They thought it was time for him to get back into circulation.
He’d kept to himself these past few weeks, angry with me, angry with the world.
“I think I do, too,” I said to Nat.
I was sad and listless, as well.
I missed Max. I missed him more than I could have ever imagined. And with Brooklyn gone—off on the exotic and exciting life she’d chosen that I could barely imagine—I couldn’t seem to figure out how to restart my own life here in Seattle.
I told myself it would be better in September once school started up again.
“You’ve never been dumped,” Nat said.
“I...” I paused to think about it.
She was right.
I’d had breakups before, but I’d always been the one doing the leaving.
“It was bad with Henry,” she said. “I thought he might be the one, and it sent me for a loop. But we weren’t even engaged. James was left at the altar. And he was madly in love with Brooklyn. It doesn’t get any worse than that.”
I supposed it didn’t.
I’d tried to be realistic with James, to talk him out of his funk, to tell him life would be good again. It would be great again.
But I wasn’t selling it.
The Twin Switch (Millionaires Legacy Book 13; Gambling Men) Page 17