Meeting Mr. Wright (18 page)

I step off the porch and walk across the lawn, and if Ethan’s surprised when I sit next to him, he doesn’t show it. His gaze is fixed somewhere off to our right, and when I turn my head I see that he’s looking at Emily. Madeline’s sleeping, draped across Emily’s lap. Emily runs her fingers through Madeline’s hair as she talks to Jessa. I’m not quite sure where this fierce protective surge comes from, given the fact that I barely know Emily, but it’s there and I can’t ignore it.

“Don’t screw around on her, Ethan. She doesn’t deserve that,” I say. I’m surprised at my bluntness, but Ethan doesn’t seem to be offended by it.

Ethan’s quiet for a minute, watching his girlfriend, hopefully letting what I just said sink in. “You two are friends now?” He finally replies.

“We don’t have to be friends for me to know that I don’t want that to happen to her.”

Looking at me with sad eyes, Ethan’s mouth opens and shuts, like he wants to say something but doesn’t quite know how to put it. I decide to speak for him instead, because I need to get this out while I’m ready to say it.

“I’m just going to say this, okay? It’ll be completely devoid of all the anger and resentment that I’ve felt for you over the past six months, and after I get it out, you can stop looking at me like a kicked puppy, and I’ll stop looking at you like I want to rip your heart out, and maybe things won’t be weird for Gabby and Ben anymore,” I say in one long breath. “I’ve been angry with you all this time not because of the cheating, which, yes…it did hurt, but…you took something from me that day, Ethan. You killed my belief in people and my ability to trust them and to take what they say and do at face value. You made me scared to take a chance again.” His eyes are locked with mine, and somehow I know that he’s listening, that he’s taking this to heart. “I had issues with some of those things before I met you, I mean, I’m not going to lay all of this at your feet, but you didn’t help any of that. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be like I was before. Maybe I’ll move past all this and be a stronger, better person. That’s what I hope for. And for you, I hope…” I take a deep breath, because it’s harder than I expected to say these words. “I hope you have a good life, Ethan. I really do.”

Ethan blinks his watery eyes, and I can practically hear him swallow. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Callie.”

“I know,” I say, reaching out and squeezing his forearm. “I forgive you.”

His eyes shift back to Emily, uncertainty written on his face.

“Let her go if it gets to be too much.” He nods but doesn’t look at me, and I take that as my cue to leave. I’ve only taken a few steps before he speaks.

“Nate’s a good guy.”

I could laugh, because Ethan is the very last person I’d ever want vouching for any potential love interests, and I want to tell him that I don’t need him of all people to point out Nate’s goodness. But I don’t want to end this conversation with bitchiness; it would undermine everything I was trying to do here.

Instead, I tell him the truth.

“I know.”

W
HEN
I return to the patio, Nate’s leaning on the railing, off to the side and away from the crowd. I can tell just by the expression on his face that he saw me talking to Ethan, and when he looks up, his eyes are full of questions. Instinctively I know that he won’t ask me what we talked about, because he knows that it really isn’t any of his business. The strange thing is I want it to be his business. For whatever reason, I don’t want him to worry about it, or to let any thoughts of a reconciliation between Ethan and me even enter his mind.

Nate stands when I get closer. His arm slips around my waist, fingers curled along the side of my hip, and it’s comforting here in this spot where our bodies seem to fit together perfectly. He leans down, brushing his lips against my ear. “Is everything okay?”

I take a deep breath as I nod, then my eyes meet his. “I was just trying to help Ethan become a better person.”

Nate’s eyebrows knit together in confusion before a slow, understanding smile spreads across his face, brightening his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says softly, resting his hand on the small of my back as he leads me over to where Gabby and Ben are standing so that we can say goodnight. I hug the two of them and tell Gabby I’ll see her first thing in the morning, ignoring the smug look on her face when Nate twines his fingers with mine as we turn and make our way across the yard.

He rubs slow circles on the back of my hand as I follow him into his room, where he turns on the lights and gently shuts the door behind us. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips as I reach up and loosen his tie, slipping it from around his neck and letting it fall into a puddle on the floor. We both work on undoing the buttons on his shirt and once that’s off, I fumble with the zipper on his pants. Once’s he’s finally naked, he makes quick work of my dress, sliding it off of my shoulders until it falls at my feet. Nate unclasps my bra and I pull down my panties, and then he skims one hand across my breast and down to my hip as he walks me backwards to the bed.

Nate sits in the center of the mattress and I make myself comfortable between his crossed legs, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. Each beat of my frenzied heart pushes me closer to him, and every last nerve in my body is pulsing with want for him. He must feel the same about me if the hardness against my thigh is any indication, but we take our time and just kiss each other. Just hold each other. Just be.

We spend most of the night wrapped around each other. Sometimes we doze, sometimes we touch. Sometimes my back is pressed against Nate’s chest and his lips are warm on my neck and he presses his palm against my thigh, opening me up to him, and I sigh as he slips inside of me like it’s where he’s always belonged. There’s nothing frenzied about it; it’s slow and purposeful, like neither one of us are chasing any kind of pleasure other than the kind that comes from just being together. We spend all night learning each other’s bodies, both by taste and by touch.

Very early in the morning, when we’re both quiet and still, I don’t waste time thinking about the inevitable destruction of my already broken heart. I’m just happy to hold Nate and be held by him, for however long it lasts.

G
ABBY STARES
out of the French doors in the Wrights’ living room, watching the crowd of friends and family taking their seats in the backyard. She’s so beautiful with her perfectly styled hair and lovely dress that it’s actually difficult for me to look at her. She’s as radiant as the sun; as blindingly bright and warm. I walk over to her, holding her bouquet in my right hand and mine in my left.

“Last chance for us to make a clean getaway,” I say, shifting the flowers in my hands so that I can smooth out her veil. “I’ll knock out Jasmine and Shelby, and we’ll get at least a fifteen minute head start.”

“You
wish
you could knock me out, Kirkpatrick,” Jasmine teases, the hint of a challenge behind her eyes.

“All I want is to be down at that altar.” Gabby looks at me with a gleam in her eyes, and I can see how sure she is about what it is that she’s about to do. “I want to be his wife.”

I want to be that sure about something for the rest of my life.

There’s a floor length mirror to the side of the door, and I take a look at my reflection. I look as pretty as I feel in this pale pink chiffon dress with my hair falling across my shoulders in sculpted curls because it just didn’t want to behave for the hairdresser this morning. The dress falls to just below my knees, and I like the way the shimmering strappy heels I’m wearing make my legs look.

“Are you about done primping for your boyfriend out there?” Shelby asks, arching her brow as she shoots me a disapproving glance. “Gab’s getting married in five minutes, and you’ve seen her with Ben. This one’s gonna stick, so you won’t get another chance to see her in a wedding dress.”

I stick my tongue out at her and she smiles. I try not to be too obvious about the way I stand on my tiptoes and look out the window to find Nate. My stomach does a cute little flip when I see him, looking so handsome in his light gray suit.

“Are you ladies ready? It’s time,” Amy’s friend Diane says as she pulls open the doors.

The murmur of the crowd quiets as a trio of violins start playing. Shelby squares her shoulders and steps out onto the patio. Jasmine takes her place in the doorway, ready to go next. I hand Gabby her bouquet, and she wraps her fingers around mine, giving them a gentle squeeze. There are tears brimming in her eyes—the happiest kind—as she gives me a knowing smile.

“You look beautiful,” I tell her, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “You’re going to be so happy, Gab. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“So do you,” she whispers. “I love you, Callie.”

I nod, smiling. “I love you too. Good luck, sweetie.”

Gabby lets go of my hand just as Diane touches my shoulder, letting me know that it’s my turn to go. I step out onto the green,
green
grass of the pristine lawn, and I look everywhere but at Nate, because I’m afraid that I’ll walk too fast if I see his face. Instead I focus on putting one foot in front of the other and walking down the aisle between the rows of pristine white chairs that hold all of Ben and Gabby’s loved ones. Amy gives me a smile through watery eyes as I walk past her, and I take the three steps up onto the altar.

The music changes to a soft, swelling march as Gabby steps out of the house. I watch her through my own tears as she walks down the aisle, Ben looking so in love that it seems like he’s having a difficult time not running across the yard and taking her in his arms. And the cynic in me—bastard that it is—makes itself known. I can’t help but think about all the couples who have done this before them, who have walked down aisles and stood on altars where they promised to love each other forever. Couples who—years later—wind up fighting over kitchen tables and antique lamps in the comfort of the offices of their five-hundred-dollar-per-hour divorce lawyers. Did they all start off looking like Gabby and Ben?

I think about Amy and Jack, holding hands in the front row, who somehow managed to beat the odds. Is it predetermined when couples walk down the aisle which ones will make it and which ones won’t? Or does everyone start out with the same shot, and the choices they make throughout the years either bring them together or push them apart? My head spins at the thought of it all. Getting married, hell…even giving your heart to someone is like jumping off a cliff. How can people make this kind of commitment not knowing what will happen when they land?

People like my mom and dad just couldn’t make it work. But there are also people like Amy and Jack. And people like Gabby and Ben, so in love with each other that it both inspires and scares me.

And then there’s Nate. Standing across the aisle from me, his eyes locked with mine, smiling at me like the whole world has fallen away.

When he looks at me like that, I wish it would.

I reach out and take Gabby’s bouquet.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

D
INNER STARTS
just as the sun goes down, and the twinkle lights draped from the poles of the canopy combined with the soft candlelight from the tapered arrangements on the tables cast an ethereal glow across the tent. There’s a dance floor on the far side of it with a deejay booth in the corner, but he’s playing soft music now, mainly drowned out by the buzz of conversation and silverware clinking on china. Dinner is a delicious one: filet with a side of roasted asparagus and mushroom risotto. We’re drinking delicious wine, and the company is wonderful. Ben and Gabby just got married, and they’re so disgustingly cute. I should be happy—I mean, I
am
happy—but I shouldn’t be so caught up in my own thoughts.

I feel like a bundle of nerves and insecurity, and absolutely nothing is helping. Thankfully, I don’t think that my distraction is that obvious, or if it is, other people are too wrapped up in the party to notice, which is good. Nate is sitting to my left, cutting steak and asparagus into tiny pieces for Madeline. She’s sitting on his lap, giggling. Jessa’s sitting a few tables away with her husband, who just arrived this morning. They seem to have fallen on the Wright side of things as far as functional relationships go: they’ve been married for five years, and they’re looking at each other like it’s
their
wedding day. Even Ethan and Emily are leaning close to each other, holding hands and sharing smiles.