Say You Do

by Weston Parker

  “Okay.” I picked my beer up off the coffee table when I passed it and chugged at least half before sitting down. “Why are you disappointed in me?”

  It burned all the way down to my soul to know how Peter felt about me. In all my life, he’d never said those words to me.

  He’d always been my most staunch supporter, even back when our parents had still been alive. Other guys might not have gotten along with their older brothers, but Peter had always been something of an idol to me.

  Sure, it wasn’t like we’d never fought before, but it had never felt like this. All the other times, it had been over some superficial bullshit. This wasn’t that.

  It felt like this stretched down to the very fiber of our respective beings, and since most of what I’d believed about mine had recently proven to be wrong, I sucked it the fuck up and listened to what my brother had to say.

  There was no judgment in his eyes when he turned to face me, but there was a ton of worry. “Firstly, throwing all the wedding planning you’ve done back in my face? Not cool, bro.”

  “I know,” I admitted and scrubbed my hands over my jaw. “I never meant for it to sound like that was what I was doing, but I know it ended up coming out like that.”

  “That’s not exactly an apology.”

  “I know that, too.” I groaned and released a deep sigh, digging deep for words that would actually matter. “I really am sorry for saying what I did. Despite how much I’ve protested and all the shit I’ve talked, it means a lot to me that you trusted me as much as you did with something as important to you as your wedding.”

  He punched my shoulder but not hard enough for my torso to move. “See? Was that so hard?”

  I breathed in through my nose and shook my head. “I guess not. I’m sorry for being a dick. Can we move on now?”

  “No.” Fuck. “What really happened with Luna?”

  “I don’t know, man,” I said, partially honestly. “Everything was fine, going according to plan, and then it wasn’t.”

  Peter studied me a long minute. “What happened right before it didn’t?”

  “Sam walked into the bar we were at after having a very public fight with Landon. Landon who—get this—also happens to be Luna’s ex.” I laughed dryly at the way Peter’s eyes grew wide. “Yeah, I know. He cheated on her with Luna, or on Luna with her. I’m not really sure who came into his life first, but he cheated.”

  “Wow, that’s…” Peter shook his head. “Fucked up. Beyond fucked up.”

  “You’re telling me,” I said. If there was one thing we saw eye to eye on, it was our stance on fidelity. “Anyway, so Luna asked me if she should tell Sam and I said yes.”

  He nodded slowly. “I agree. It was the right thing to do.”

  “Exactly.” I screwed my eyes shut. “So Luna tells Sam, who comes out of the bathroom screaming at Landon. Luna and I get the hell out of Dodge, and we’re drinking at the bar on the rooftop when Sam comes in and starts throwing back shots like it’s—”

  “Sam was drinking?” My brother’s jaw went slack when I nodded.

  “Yeah. A lot. At first, I thought maybe it was water, but I watched the bartender for a few minutes to be sure. She was definitely drinking. Whiskey, no less.”

  “No way,” he breathed. “That’s bad, but what does it have to do with Luna?”

  “I don’t know. That’s where it all gets weird for me. She asked me if we were just friends, I said yes, and then she said ‘do what you have to do’ or some shit like that and stormed out.” I put my arms out to my sides before rubbing my hand over the back of my head. “Before I could follow her to find out what the fuck was going on, Sam came up to me and begged me to talk to her.”

  “What did she want?”

  “In a nutshell? Me.” I watched as Peter’s eyes grew almost comically wide again. Then he burst out laughing. It was so unexpected that I had to join in. “I heard her out because I thought it might keep her from drinking if I did. Then I told her to move on and went down to Luna’s room.”

  “What did she say when you told her what happened?”

  I hung my head as I shook it. “Nothing, because I never told her. She really just wanted to be friends, Peter. It wouldn’t have been fair to dump everything I was feeling on her, so I left. I was caught up in meetings during all the days that followed and then I booked more for the nights. I didn’t know if I could act like a friend to her. I still don’t, so I haven’t spoken to her since we’ve been back.”

  “Let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “You finally admitted to yourself that you have feelings for this girl and then you didn’t have the balls to tell her?”

  “It wasn’t that. She doesn’t want the same things I do. It’s not fair of me to change the rules now. I’ve been clear all along and she took me at my word. Until I can keep that word to her, I have to stay away.”

  “You’re insane.” He brought his hands to his hair and tugged at it. “Certifiably fucking insane.”

  “Why? Because I’m trying to keep my word to a girl I promised I’d always be honest with? Telling her anything now and not telling her how I feel about her would be lying. I can’t do that, but I also can’t tell her how I feel because then everything our relationship was built on would be a lie.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real catch-22,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

  “It is,” I protested.

  “No, it’s not.” He lifted his gaze to mine, a gleam of determination in it I hadn’t seen for a long time. “Listen to me and listen to me well, baby brother. That girl likes you as a hell of a lot more than a friend. I mean, fuck, have you even realized that your very names almost make it that you’re meant to be? Cyrus means sun and Luna means moon. You literally cannot have one without the other, bro.”

  “Considering we didn’t choose our own names, I’m pretty sure that doesn’t mean anything.” I hadn’t actually noticed it before, though. “It doesn’t matter anyway. She barely even looked at me on our flight back and called her friend for a ride. Whatever happened that night, she doesn’t want me.”

  “So that’s it?” He lifted both his eyebrows, disbelief clear as day in his eyes. “You’re going to give her up just like that?”

  “I haven’t given her up because she isn’t mine to give up.” I slumped back on the couch and rested my head against the leather. “She never was, so let it be, bro. It’s over. There’s nothing either of us can do about it.”

  I could see he didn’t agree, but it hardly mattered. I wished I was wrong, but I wasn’t. I’d seen the way Luna had looked at me. He hadn’t.

  Whatever there might have been brewing between us, it was over. I was nothing to her now.

  Despite my best efforts, or maybe in spite of them, I wasn’t even her friend. Which was good because there was no way I’d ever really be able to be friendly with perhaps the only woman I’d ever really been in love with.

  Chapter 37

  Luna

  “What are you doing here?” My eyes nearly fell out of my head when I opened my front door and saw Peter freaking Coning standing on the other side of it. “You’re getting married in—” I twisted around to check the clock on the wall behind me. “Six hours, Peter. You’re getting married in six hours.”

  He rocked back and forth on his heels, then shrugged. “I know, but I had to talk to you.”

  “What? Why?” Terror wrapped its icy tendrils around my heart and squeezed. “Is everything okay? Cyrus? Jenny?”

  I felt blood draining from my face and rushed out into the hall, though I wasn’t really sure why. There was no one else there, no blood on the walls.

  A low chuckle drew my attention back to my unexpected visitor, who arched his brow as he sent a pointed look my way. It was only then that I realized I was still in my pajamas, my hair was a mess, my feet were bare, and my cup of tea was clutched between my numb fingers.

  Whatever was going on, I wasn’t going to be much help to him in this state. It da
wned on me then that he looked completely relaxed, which probably meant that both his brother and his fiancée were fine.

  “Chill out, Luna. No one has any life-threatening physical injuries, and as far as I know, everything is progressing smoothly at the venue.”

  “Which brings me back to my original question, then. What are you doing here?” I peered at him curiously, motioning him into my apartment.

  My cheeks flushed at the state of my apartment and myself, but there was no turning back now. Peter was already closing the door behind him.

  He was dressed casually in faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt, sporting a five o’clock shadow and his hair slightly messy. Just like it had been the last time I saw him. I was starting to think there was just no taming it.

  Letting out another chuckle, he shook his head at me. “I’m not running out on the wedding or anything. My suit is at the venue and I’m headed there as soon as we’re done here. I only need an hour, max, to shower and get ready. Don’t worry. I’m not here to ask you to deliver some message to my brother or my bride about how I just couldn’t go through with it.”

  Relief rushed through me. I might not know Peter and Jenny all that well, but I’d have hated to have seen him running. After everything they’d been through—heck, after everything I’d been through just to get their wedding planned alongside the Grinch—it would have been a real darn pity if he called it all off.

  I nodded and walked farther into the apartment, setting my tea down before folding my arms. As I opened my mouth to speak, he beat me to it.

  “I heard about what happened in Italy.”

  I blinked, surprised that he wanted to talk about that on this of all days. “Okay. Do you want to sit down?”

  “Thanks,” he said, flashing me a smile that was so similar to Cyrus’s that it made my heart weep in my chest.

  Peter perched on the very edge of my couch and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I can’t stay very long. I have this thing to get to.”

  “By thing, you mean your wedding?” I frowned, so lost about what the point was he was trying to make.

  He rolled his eyes at me, shaking his head as he sighed. “Neither of you have any sense of humor these days.”

  “Neither of us?” My frown deepened. “Wait, are you drunk? Do you see two of me right now?”

  “I guess if I was, it would make more sense to you what a groom—who most certainly is not running away from his wedding, thank you very much—is doing with his brother’s ex hours before his wedding.”

  “We were just friends.” It was an automatic reply by this point.

  Peter rolled his eyes again. “You guys are the damn worst. I swear. You’re as bad as the other. I had hoped that you, at least, would have let all that friend bullshit go by now.”

  The intensity of the frustration in his tone chipped at something deep inside me, and all the walls I’d so carefully constructed before opening my door came crumbling down. My shoulders dropped and I let the muscles in my face relax, showing him exactly what a mess I really was.

  “There she is.” He gave me a sympathetic smile. “That looks more like a woman who went through what you did just three weeks ago and is actually feeling it.”

  “I lost a good friend that week,” I said because that was a big part of the problem. “I’m allowed to look bad.”

  “You don’t look bad, Luna. You look like shit. I mean it with love, though, so please don’t be pissed at me.”

  “I won’t be pissed at you. You’re only telling the truth.” I cocked my head and slumped back on the couch. “So what did he tell you?”

  “I’ll summarize it for you. Whatever you think was going on with him over there wasn’t what was really going on.”

  “What are you talking about?” Even just thinking about what I thought had been going on there made my stomach twist and another wave of nausea rolled through me at the sharp pain in my heart.

  “This is just a guess, but you think he did something with Samantha. Don’t you?”

  I nodded, swallowing the tears that threatened to rise. There was a time for crying but in front of the man’s brother on his wedding day wasn’t it.

  “You should have seen the way he looked at her, Peter. If you had, you would understand why I’m so certain about it. His eyes didn’t leave her, not for a second.”

  He sighed and shoved his hands through his hair multiple times. “For fuck’s sake. I’m assuming you’re talking about when he saw her in the bar?”

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice soft. It felt like if I even spoke too loudly about it, I would shatter all over again.

  “It’s not what you think.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and his fingers looped together. “I know how that sounds, but it really isn’t. Nothing happened between them. You have my word.”

  “How do you know?” I narrowed my eyes on his. “You weren’t there, Peter. All you have to go on is Cyrus’s word.”

  “Maybe, but you have mine. He didn’t get together with her while you guys were in Italy. He hasn’t hooked up with her since before she left him and he never will again. But none of this is mine to tell you.”

  “Why did you come here then?” I squeezed my eyes shut.

  It had taken everything I had in me not to think about the wedding all morning. I could picture it all so clearly in my mind’s eye, could practically see the venue coming together as each hour passed.

  Of course, in every one of my mental pictures, Cyrus was there. He looked so damn handsome in his tux. And that was about where I had to shut down the thoughts because then the waterworks wanted to turn on.

  I couldn’t cry about him. Not anymore. Cyrus had never wanted me as more than a wedding planner and friend. I couldn’t waste weeks pining over him.

  Okay, so I had wasted weeks pining. But I wouldn’t waste them pining and crying about it, for heaven’s sake.

  Peter’s expression softened as his eyes swept across whatever pain was visible on my face. “I came here because every time I’ve seen my brother these last few weeks, he’s looked exactly the same as you do right now. I can’t take it anymore.”

  He drew in a deep breath and sat up straighter. “Here’s the truth, Luna. He didn’t fuck Sam. You’ll have to speak to him to get the whole story because like I said, it’s not mine to tell. But that’s what it boils down to. He didn’t fuck her and he doesn’t want her. He loves you, Luna.”

  “He doesn’t love me.” I scoffed and pulled a face at Peter. “Firstly, he’s made it pretty darn clear that he cannot and will not fall in love, least of all with me. Secondly, if he did love me, why isn’t he the one who came here to talk to me?”

  “He’s not here because he’s a stubborn asshole who is convinced he’s lost you, that you don’t want him that way, and that he doesn’t deserve you anyway.” Peter stood up and lifted his arm before glancing down at his watch. “I have to go. The venue coordinator wants to see me in thirty minutes to finalize some details about timing during the reception. Please come today, Luna.”

  “What?” My head felt all muddled and my heart was racing. I couldn’t quite make sense of even seeing him here today, never mind everything he’d just told me. “Why would you want me there?”

  “Because you worked harder than anyone else to make this day happen exactly the way we wanted it to and you deserve to see how it plays out. If you won’t do it for Cyrus, do it for us. We want you there, Luna. Please come.”

  I sighed. It was the last thing I wanted to do. I was pretty sure that band-aid I’d slapped over the crack in my heart was slipping already and I hadn’t even seen Cyrus yet. On the other hand, I really did like Jenny and Peter. If they wanted me there, I could suck it up and freaking be there.

  It was their wedding day, which meant they should get everything they want from it. “Okay, I’ll come. For you.”

  “Thank you.” Peter’s voice was gentle, understanding. “It will mean a lot to us both to have you there, Luna.”


  “Then there is where I’ll be.” I stood up as well, surprised when Peter enveloped me in a giant hug before loping out the door.

  For the rest of the day, it seemed kind of unreal that I was about to go to the wedding. I played with the idea of not going, and knowing I was going to see Cyrus if I did made a pit of despair form in my stomach.

  Even once I was dressed and ready to go, I still considered just staying home. But the look in Peter’s eyes when he’d told me how much it would mean to them if I went haunted me, as did the pleading note in his voice.

  As for all that stuff he said about Cyrus, I couldn’t deny that I desperately wanted to know if it was true. I doubted it, but it felt like I owed it to myself to really find out.

  Besides, at least if I saw him again and got to talk to him one last time, hopefully find out everything I hadn’t wanted to know three weeks ago, I could finally get some closure. Maybe if I got closure, I’d be able to get some sleep tonight as well.

  The dress I’d gotten for the wedding when I was still going to go as Cyrus’s date hung a little looser on me now than it had when I’d bought it. I guessed that was what three weeks of hardly eating or sleeping did to a person.

  Smoothing out nonexistent creases in the soft purple fabric, I grabbed my clutch and opened the darn door. I was going to this thing, if only so I’d be able to eat and sleep again.

  All my indecision meant that I arrived at the venue just before the ceremony was due to start. Just as Cyrus and I had planned for it to, it was happening in the garden.

  My eyes begged to sneak a peek at the corner he’d led me around to make out with me, but I refused to let them. We’re here to celebrate love and the start of a wonderful adventure. Not some kissing that should never have happened.

  Pep talk complete, I took a seat in the back and admired how it had all turned out. Once Cyrus and Peter walked in, the flowers, chair covers, and tie backs, all of it disappeared and he was all I could see.