Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
One who would bring her coffee or lunch when he was passing by.
One who would rub that ache in her left shoulder from holding the phone between it and her ear, so her hands were free for other tasks.
I couldn't do those things anymore.
Maybe I never should have to begin with.
Maybe it was never my place.
And those were the things swirling around my head as I tried for the sixth time to get the tie to knot.
Maybe my mind was focused on those things because it knew it couldn't handle the other things.
Like how they would be buying a home together, decorating it, building a life in it, creating babies in it.
All her highs and lows, they belonged to him now.
For good.
In a permanent way.
In a way that came with rings, promises, and paperwork.
On a hiss, I walked away from the mirror, going into my kitchen, reaching into a cabinet to grab the whiskey - something I rarely had occasion to reach for.
But if there was ever a reason to drink, it was when the love of your goddamn life was marrying someone else.
I should have been happy for her.
It was a selfish kind of love to only want someone happy if they were happy with you.
I understood that.
I knew it was wrong to begrudge a woman her happily ever after simply because you couldn't star in it, couldn't be the one with the glass shoe, the one with the rose and the library, the one with the kiss that could break the spell.
Because she deserved all that.
More, even.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that her fiancé was the wrong man for the job. And I couldn't figure out if the feeling was a genuine one, or just my own jealousy talking.
Whatever it was, I didn't like him.
Hadn't liked him the day we met when he had shook my hand a little too hard, like he needed to exert his alpha-ness, when he hadn't looked at Jules when she spoke, when he teased her for liking flavor in her coffee, when he hadn't opened the door for her, let her reach for it herself.
He had just rubbed me the wrong way.
But Jules did think he was the right guy.
Enough to give him her hand.
Whether I thought he was worthy or not.
The whiskey burned its way down, a sensation I reveled in because it - for one short, glorious moment - took away from the crushing sensation in my chest, a feeling I had been dealing with for months, but had not seemed to be able to get used to.
Maybe I should have been counting my blessings that it was a short engagement.
Everything had been in hyper-drive since the two met. I had no idea whose choice that had been. It could have been either of them, to be honest.
Jules was the kind of person who, when she knew her mind, acted on it. With everything within her. So if she made up her mind about Gary, then, well, she would have charged ahead as soon as she saw a ring, throwing herself into the planning as she did with everything in her life. With determination. With tunnel vision.
That was Jules.
Driven. Confident. Hard-working.
Hell, I had no idea where she found the time to plan every single, minute detail of the event while working as hard as she did at the office. There before everyone else, leaving after most others.
She burned the candle at both ends just holding down her job.
I had no idea when she managed to squeeze in dress fittings, cake tasting, invitation creating.
And make no mistake - she did all of it.
If Jules had one flaw - and I wasn't sure you could even call it such - it was her utter inability - or unwillingness - to delegate.
So she was the one pouring over fonts, over centerpieces, over music, over wine and food selections.
She likely hadn't slept in months.
I sighed as I looked at the time, realizing it was about as late as I could hope to leave without actually being late to the event.
Leaving my tie as it was - figuring I could get someone there to fix it for me - I grabbed my keys and headed out, an odd mix of crushed... and curious.
Curious because, well, I couldn't help it.
I wanted to see her vision for this day, what she chose, what she saw in her head when she thought of her wedding day.
Of course, a ridiculous little part of me really did hold out hope that I would find out because it would be my day too.
Hearts were fanciful things.
Mine was prone to way too much wishful thinking.
I pulled up to the venue, giving my keys to the valet who looked like he was suffering a bit in the heat.
I couldn't quite figure out what had possessed Jules to choose to be an August bride when she hated summer.