Without another glance to anyone else, I turn, facing the piano, and start in on my own rendition of Thomas Rhett’s “Marry Me.” Closing my eyes, I lose myself in the song. In my mind, Giselle is the only one in the room, and I’m singing every single lyric as if I wrote the song for her. We’ve wasted so much time in our lives not being together when we could have been, and I wasn’t lying about what I told the crowd. After she sang to me, I went back to school wanting to do the same for her. I wanted her to feel what I felt for her through music. I’ve never gotten the nerve to actually perform, but at this point, I really don’t have anything else to lose.
Giselle might be engaged, but she isn’t married yet. I will fight for her as hard as I can until she says I do, but I’m hoping it won’t get to that point and she’ll end whatever this is with her pretty boy from Hollywood.
Everything around me is forgotten as I think about the music video for this song. I want to have my own happy ending with the woman who stole my heart all those years ago. I don’t necessarily want her to leave Wren on their wedding day and come to me, but if that’s how it has to happen, then I am all for it. I’m taking a risk by singing this song and basically telling everyone in this room that I want Giselle to marry me and not the man she’s standing next to.
With the last note played, I finally look up to the crowd. Everyone is clapping and cheering, but the only thing I see is the back of a familiar head of long espresso hair exiting the back door to the patio. I don’t even think twice as I hop down from the stage and push through the crowd. The only person I want to see right now isn’t even in the room, and I’d chase her across the world if I had to. It’s what I should have done all those months ago when she went to Paris. My ego was hurt, and I chose myself over her like I always do. Not anymore.
Chapter Ten
Giselle
When Anders got up on that stage, I was hoping for the best—a short speech or letting people know where to get drinks and food. Maybe where the bathrooms are at. I don’t even know why my brain went there, but it did.
What I did not expect was for him to get up there and serenade me. I honestly don’t know what everyone is thinking, especially with his song choice. He might as well have stood on that stage and said I don’t want you to get married, although it wouldn’t have been as beautiful of a performance. I’m just hoping everyone isn’t familiar with the song or even paid attention to the lyrics, but I know the truth. Hell, if Marek remembers that night so many years ago when I sang karaoke, he knows the truth too.
I didn’t know Anders could play the piano. I didn’t know he could sing, either, but the minute he opened his mouth and his fingers caressed the keys, I was transfixed. I couldn’t move from my spot, and at one point I think I stopped breathing. Then Wren leaned down and whispered something in my ear. I couldn’t tell you what he said, I just know it broke the spell I was under and I had to get out of there.
Making an excuse about a bathroom break, I fled just as Anders played the final notes of the song, which is why I now find myself on the small patio behind the restaurant. It’s quiet with everyone else inside, and the cool evening air gives me a moment to breathe and calm down my pounding heart.
Why did he do that? Why can’t he just let me be happy? He had his chance and he threw it away, but now he suddenly wants me? My head and my heart are in a war so intense I couldn’t tell you which one is going to win.
There’s a reason why they say moments are fleeting, and mine is over with quickly when the door behind me opens and closes. Footsteps slowly come up behind me, and my heart rate picks up with each step.
How is it that I can always sense when he’s nearby? He doesn’t have to say anything, and I don’t have to see him; it’s like I just know. My body almost hums whenever he’s around. I used to love it, back when I thought he would be my forever, but now it just makes me resent him even more. I don’t want to want him. My traitorous body pisses me off, and I just want to shut those feelings off.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
His arms come down around my waist and he hugs my back to his front. I can’t help the way my body sways into his embrace. He leans down and whispers into my ear in a low husky tone, “I’m not doing anything to you, Giselle. I can’t control how you react to me. That’s all on you.”
He’s right, but he knows the effect he has on me, knows he’s always had one on me. Anders got up on that stage to perform that song because he knew he would get a reaction out of me.
“What do you want from me?” I breathe the words out, almost like a plea.
“I don’t want anything from you. All I want is you. I love you.”
What the fuck?
I wiggle out of his embrace and turn around to face him. He stands there with his hands tucked into his front pockets with a look of complete earnestness on his face. I don’t know if what he’s saying is true, but I can tell he believes it. To top it off, he has that damn fedora parked on top of his head. I picked it out for him when I was seventeen years old, and it has been a staple in his wardrobe ever since. That damn hat pisses me off right now.
He loves me? Is he kidding me?
Stepping forward, I don’t even think before my hand is stinging with pain at the contact with his cheek. “No, you don’t get to do that. You had eighteen years to tell me that and you never did. You don’t love me. I’m no longer chasing you so now you want me. It’s all a game to you. But this is my life Anders, just stop before I lose Wren too...”
I leave my sentence hanging and hope that he’ll understand. The moment he told me he wanted to keep me a secret, he lost me.
“You can’t put all the blame on me. I’m not the one who left.”
Shaking my head, I start to turn away from him, but he holds me in place, forcing me to look at him. “You can’t put that on me. I left, but you weren’t all the way in. How could you expect me to stick around and be your dirty little secret?
His cheek is already starting to redden, but he doesn’t show signs of letting me go. With both of his hands on my shoulders, I wouldn’t be able to move even if I wanted to, but I do…I think? All this back and forth between us is messing with my brain, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to think anymore.
Our eyes are locked on one another and I finally ask, “Is it me you truly love? Or do you love the chase of trying to get me when you know you can’t have me?”
“And who says I can’t have you?”
I attempt to wiggle out of his grip, but he doesn’t move in the slightest. Opening my mouth, I let out the loudest scream I can muster. I’m not worried about the partygoers inside since the music is too loud for them to hear anything that’s going on out here. He is so infuriating. I turn my eyes on him and raise the tone of my voice. “I am engaged…and not to you.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” He takes a purposeful step toward me, and before I even know what’s happening, his lips are on mine. I freeze, completely unable to control myself or my body. I’m completely limp with my hands hanging at my sides as he runs his hands through my hair and holds me in place.
He continues caressing my lips with his own and runs his tongue along my bottom lip to coax me out of my shock and into joining this kiss.
“I don’t have anything to worry about, huh? I can’t fucking believe you.”
Suddenly regaining control of myself, I pull back from Anders and break off our kiss. My fiancé is standing there in the doorway shooting daggers at both of us. He turns to walk away, and I call out, “Wren, wait! I can explain.”
I cringe as I hear the words that just left my mouth. All they do is make me sound guilty, and I guess in a way, I am. Even though I didn’t kiss Anders back, I took too long to push him away, and that’s just as bad. I know how I would feel if the roles were reversed. Wren doesn’t give me the chance to explain before he takes off, and I don’t blame him one bit. I just hope I can salvage this mess.
I start to go after him but am suddenly
tugged back. “Don’t go after him. Stay here with me.”
“Are you kidding me right now? I’m getting married, Anders. I’m engaged to that gorgeous man who loves me. You had your chance and you lost it.”
He drops his head and nods as if finally accepting the fact that we will never be together, and then he asks, “Do you love him?”
I keep my face neutral and tell him what I’m supposed to tell him. I don’t know if I’m trying to convince him or both of us when I say, “Seriously? Did you not just hear me? I’m marrying him.”
“Giselle, you just said you’re marrying a man who loves you. Not once have you said you love him back.”
“Of course I love him. Don’t be ridiculous. Now let me go so I can make sure he doesn’t leave me because of the stunt you just pulled.”
He’s right. We both know that, and I have no idea what to do about it. He releases me and I don’t look back as I chase after the man I am supposed to be marrying.
* * *
Even though he was upset, I found Wren waiting for me outside the restaurant by my car. Thank goodness for small miracles. Still, the car ride has been exceptionally awkward with the silence between us. I haven’t known what to say for fear that I would make things worse, but I also don’t think staying quiet is helping us at all either.
The one thing I’ve always heard over the years is the best way to build a strong relationship is with communication. And I’ve pretty much been failing in that department since we’ve arrived in Oregon.
What am I even doing?
I open and close my mouth multiple times to say something, anything, but Wren beats me to it. “I’m going to ask this once and then I swear I’ll never ask it again.”
“Okay…” My hands shake on the steering wheel as I make a left turn. I probably shouldn’t be driving right now, but I wasn’t exactly thinking about that when we made our quick exit from our own party. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it tomorrow from my mom.
“Is there anything going on with you and Anders?”
“No—”
“Has there ever been anything between you? Or was that kiss a complete shock to you?”
My gut reaction is to lie, to tell him I’ve never been interested and make him feel silly for even questioning me, but I can’t do that. So instead, I stay silent, hoping that’s enough to answer his question.
“Have you slept together?”
I divert my gaze as my cheeks redden. This is not the direction I thought this conversation was going to take, but I guess it was naïve of me to think he wouldn’t notice and everything between Anders and me would stay in the past.
“Christ.” Wren slams his hand down on the center console and takes a few deep breaths before asking, “When?”
“The night before I left for Paris.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck are we even doing then?”
No, no. He can’t start thinking like that. “I love you, Wren. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, showing you how much I love you. What happened between Anders and me was a one-time thing, a mistake. It’s over. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
My voice drips with desperation and it makes me sick to my stomach. I created this wall between the two of us by not being honest in the first place and now it’s only making things worse. How did things end up so complicated?
“He seems to think otherwise.”
His voice comes out so small and defeated. It’s like a giant punch to my gut and I pull over. There’s no way I can have this intense of a conversation and continue driving.
Turning the car off I turn to him and say, “I can’t help what he thinks or feels. I just know what I want, and that’s you.”
“Why did you leave him?”
Talk about beating a dead horse. I hope this conversation brings him peace of mind and we never discuss Anders after this. “Does it matter?”
“I don’t want to lose you like he did.”
Tears well up in my eyes as I think back to the night Anders and I had. I wish things had gone differently and I had never gotten on that plane. As much as I love Wren, Anders was there first, and I thought we would finally have our forever—but real life doesn’t work out the same way it does in the movies. It’s raw, it’s real, and it can be very painful at times.
“I wasn’t enough for him. He wasn’t willing to risk his friendship with my brother by being with me. It’s the same story he’s been feeding me since I first met him. That time he gave in to temptation, but he wanted to keep me a secret. So, I did the only thing I could to save myself…I left.”
“What if he came to you tomorrow and declared his love for you? Told your brother everything and said the two of you would get your happily ever after—would you leave me?”
“Of course not. He had his chance with me, and he threw it away. His words don’t mean a whole lot to me these days, anyway. Trust me when I say I will never end up with Anders McKay. He is not my endgame.”
“How do you expect me to trust you? The douche serenaded you at our engagement party and you end up kissing him. How do you think that looks, Giselle?”
I can’t control my rage as I slam my fist down on the steering wheel. I jump slightly when the horn sounds, but it only fazes me for a second before I turn my emotions on the man sitting next to me. “No. You don’t get to place the blame for his actions on me. He chose to sing that song. He chose to kiss me. I did not and would not kiss him back. I am not a cheater, Wren, and if you think I am then maybe we shouldn’t be getting married. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who doesn’t know me at all.”
“I wish you had told me about him before we got here.”
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t think it would even be an issue. I left because he didn’t want to be serious with me, at least that was how he made it sound. Maybe seeing me with you has finally lit a fire under his ass, but it’s too late. I love you, Wren, and I want to marry you.”
Wren releases a small sigh and says, “Just keep your distance from him, okay? I trust you, but I don’t trust him. He has made his intentions clear, and I don’t like it.”
It feels like a piece of my heart has broken off, like I’m betraying what I have with Anders, but he made his decision today and crossed a line he shouldn’t have. He shattered any sort of trust I had in him by attempting to make me a person I will never be.
Nodding my head, I reply, “If that’s what you need from me, I can do that for you. It’ll make things awkward and cause a bigger rift than I want to have if we don’t invite him to the wedding, but I will avoid him at all costs prior to that.”
Chapter Eleven
Anders: I’m not going to apologize for what I did.
Giselle: *eye roll emoji* Of course you’re not. Why would you ever own up to doing something wrong? That would be the adult thing to do, and that’s not who you are.
Anders: If you’re angry with me, that means you feel something. I would be worried if you were indifferent toward me, but you’re not. I know you’re not.
Giselle: Yeah, and what if I hate you?
Anders: You and I both know you don’t hate me. Even if you do, there’s a fine line between love and hate, babe.
Anders: And Giselle?
Giselle: What?
Anders: It won’t be much longer until you completely obliterate that line and tumble back into my bed. I’ll just bide my time until that happens. I’m not too worried.
Giselle: You’re absolutely ridiculous. Let me explain it in a way your minuscule brain will understand.
Giselle: I
Giselle: AM
Giselle: ENGAGED
Giselle: TO
Giselle: BE
Giselle: MARRIED
Giselle: AND
Giselle: YOU
Giselle: ARE
Giselle: NOT
Giselle: MY
Giselle: FIANCÉ
Anders: You did always have a flair for the dram
atic. Things would be much easier and more fun if you’d just lose that dead weight and come crawling back to me. Are you enjoying your entire life being plastered all over the tabloids?
Giselle: Did you really just call Wren Danzig a dead weight? He’s an Academy Award-winning actor.
Anders: Wow and here I thought you weren’t shallow.
Giselle: You’re impossible.
Anders: That didn’t answer my question.
Giselle: Of course I’m not enjoying it. That damn journalist over at QuickFeed has it out for me or something. I don’t know why the goal of every single article she writes is to spin me into this horrible gold-digging slut and Wren as this perfect specimen of a man who could do no wrong. It’s infuriating.
Anders: So, you’re saying Hollywood’s golden boy isn’t perfect? Color me shocked.
Giselle: It’s like you read what I wrote and completely twisted my words for your agenda. Bravo, Anders—you’re just as bad as she is. I don’t know why I’m even talking to you right now.
Anders: You know I was kidding. Don’t be like that.
Giselle: Doesn’t change the fact that it still hurt. I’m tired of people pretending I’m somebody I’m not. I don’t need Wren’s money; I’ve done well enough on my own.
Anders: You don’t have to convince me of that, Giselle. I know who you are.
Giselle: I know you do.
Anders: Then you know I won’t give up on us.
Giselle: I know.
Anders: As long as we’re on the same page.
* * *
Anders: I heard your fiancé was spotted eating a baby flamingo.
Anders: Do you want me to beat him up? I know he’s Hollywood’s golden boy, but I think everyone would cheer me on. What kind of a sick bastard eats baby flamingos?
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