Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“I do not treat you like shit, Blake.”
“Want to bet?”
“How?”
“I’ve had the worst ten days feeling like absolute shit because you won’t speak to me, and I’ve missed you, and yet all you’re worried about are the feelings of your toxic ex.”
My heart sinks.
“You can go to hell, Rebecca.”
He walks into his room and slams the door shut in my face.
Damn it.
I walk into my room and flop onto the bed. I stare up at the ceiling as his words roll around in my head.
He’s right. I am a train wreck.
Chapter 8
The sun is shining, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky, only a dark storm brewing in my heart.
“You stand here.” The wedding celebrant grabs Blake by the shoulders and puts him into position. “And you are here.” She moves Antony into place under the arch. He smiles broadly and goes up onto his toes in excitement.
We are in the garden beside the lake. The scent of freshly mowed grass is pungent, and gardeners are pruning hedges in preparation for tomorrow’s ceremony.
Bees buzz around the canopy of white flowers, and anticipation fills the air.
She turns toward me and Chloe. “You stand here.” She moves me into position. “And you, darling, are here.”
The four of us stand in place with our hands clasped in front of us.
“Henley,” she calls. “You come down now.”
Henley smiles broadly and walks down toward us. He proudly takes his place in the center. He turns back to the boys, and Blake slaps him on the back as they chuckle.
My heart.
I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a groom so excited to get married, or maybe it’s just that I’ve never paid close attention. The celebrant begins to explain the proceedings, but somehow, I’m lost. I can’t explain it, but have you ever been involved in an event and felt as though you’re sitting up in a tree and watching it from afar?
As if there is a piece of glass . . . or, in this case, ice, between you and the happenings. Tomorrow is a happy day, the best day, and yet all I can feel is a deep, overwhelming sense of sadness.
Two of my very best friends in the entire world are diving headfirst into a lifetime of love, and I want to go into this wedding with an open heart.
But alas, how can I when I’m reliving the nightmare of handing yourself over to someone forever?
They keep chatting around me, and a vision comes through my mind, only it isn’t a vision. It’s a memory, crystal clear and cutting like a knife.
Me, walking down the aisle . . . to him. The look in his eyes, the love in my heart.
Was he cheating even then?
I was so naive.
My eyes fill with caustic tears at the thought.
“Rebecca, Rebecca . . . Rebecca,” the marriage celebrant says sternly, and I glance up. “I need you to listen, dear.”
“Sorry,” I stammer as I’m brought back to the present. I blink to try and hide my tears. “I’m sorry, I beg your pardon?”
“You need to go with Chloe.” She gestures in front of us.
“What?” I look around in confusion to see that Chloe is now down at the end of the aisle with Juliet. “Sorry, sorry,” I say in a fluster as I take off down to them.
“Now, pretend to hold your flowers, and walk up the aisle to the music.” The music begins. She holds her hand up. “And now.” I take the large steps up the aisle. “Now you, Chloe,” she calls. “And finally, our beautiful bride, Juliet.”
We get to the front and take our places like we practiced. Then Juliet joins us, and Henley takes her hands in his. Unable to help it, he kisses her softly, and as everyone chuckles, my eyes fill with tears anew.
Stop.
This is not about you, Rebecca. Get ahold of yourself.
In a detached state, trapped somewhere between the past and the present, I watch as we go through the logistics of tomorrow’s ceremony.
“Well done, everyone,” the marriage celebrant tells us. “Let’s celebrate with a glass of champagne.” She gestures to the restaurant. “We have canapés and champagne ready and waiting for us.”
Everyone chatters excitedly as we walk toward the event center, and the closer we get, the higher my need to be alone grows.
I feel unstable.
Once inside, I fake a smile and take off in search of the ladies’ room. I take the stairs; I’m going to go to the upstairs one. I need some distance.
I burst in the door and sit on the toilet and put my head into my hands.
I’m hot and clammy and . . . fuck.
My breath is ragged, my heart is thumping hard in my chest, and I sit for a long time as I try to pull myself together.
I hear the door open and shut. “Bec,” Blake’s voice says softly.