“Enlighten me then, you sanctimonious piece of shit,” Taylor spits in his face.
“You are a
leech
,” Logan says, pushing him harder into the wall. “You suck the happiness out of every room you walk into. You’re too jealous and insecure to be around people who feel good about themselves and so you always, always, always bring them down. And you know it, Taylor. You take pleasure in it, you
feed
off of it. But it doesn’t work on me anymore, and
that
’
s
why you can’t stand me. I don’t
let
you make me feel bad, I can see straight through you, which only makes you hate me more. There’s a constant anger inside of you, and it’s destroying you. Slowly, sadly it’s ruining your life. You’ve got to let it go, you’ve
got
to let it go,” he says, almost imploringly, as he himself lets his bother go.
Taylor shirks his arms away from Logan and both brothers huff, their chests heaving. Taylor has no response. He cannot deny what is clear as day.
“I used to feel sorry for having a hand in turning you sour,” Logan continues, “but now it’s all on you. I hope that you become a better man for the sake of your daughter and your wife. I hope that you get over it, but until you do, we are no longer brothers,” Logan repeats, taking several steps backwards, his physical movement mirroring something much larger. He’s cutting the tie to his brother. For good? I can’t work that out right now, all I can fathom is the poignant look on Logan’s face, and the stab of guilt that I feel inside.
I should
’
ve walked away
, I think once more.
After a long silence, Logan tells Taylor, “I’ll thank you to leave this party, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you ruin it for anyone else.”
Taylor’s face is too impassive for me to tell how he’s feeling. Shocked, probably, that after all this time he’s finally pushed Logan too far. Embarrassed, I hope, for acting the way he has done. And sorry, I expect, for speaking to me in the manner he did. But he shows none of these things, and remains impassive and un-remorseful when he finally tears his eyes off of Logan and says, “Karen, let’s go—”
“I’m staying,” Karen sobs. Hearing the tone in her voice, Logan and I both turn to look at her and she bursts into tears.
I feel utterly terrible. I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and I wrap my arms around her in the best show of comfort that I can offer.
“You’ve humiliated me, Taylor!” she yells at her husband. “How dare you behave like this. How would you feel if someone spoke to our daughter the way you spoke to Gemima?” she shrieks at him.
“I’d beat the living daylights out of him,” Taylor responds quickly.
“It’s tempting, believe me,” Logan says.
“Abby and I are staying here,” Karen tells Taylor, “you can go without us, and figure out how you’re going to make this better.”
Without a word of apology to me or Logan or his wife, Taylor turns and leaves, and the three of us remain motionless, completely stunned.
It’s the most uncomfortable moment of my life, hands down. It puts every slip of verbal diarrhoea that I’ve ever had into perspective, because this isn’t just an embarrassing slip of the tongue, this actually
means
something — a brother is as good as banished and his wife is left in tears.
I can’t hold back my guilt any longer. “I’m
so
sorry,” I tell Karen and Logan earnestly. “I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that—”
“Don’t,” Logan says sternly, watching Taylor leave. He turns his head and his eyes meet mine and they soften instantly, as does his voice. “Baby,
please
don’t,” he says, stepping towards us and wrapping his arms around us both. “This is all Taylor.”
“I hate to gang up on my own husband,” Karen sniffs and wipes away her tears, “but Logan’s right,” she says to me. “I think he really needed this,” she then says to him. “He needed to be told that enough’s enough. I’m just so sorry that he said those things, Gemima. He doesn’t really think that of you, I promise.”
“Is that how he speaks to
you
, Karen?” Logan asks her seriously.
“No,” she cries, fresh tears appearing instantly. “That’s why I don’t understand him when he acts like this. At home he’s kind, and he’s brilliant with our daughter, and he would never speak to a woman so disrespectfully,” she wails, burying her face in her hands, her humiliation overcoming her.
Logan considers this for a moment, before he comes to his conclusion, “Taylor knows he can’t get under my skin, so he changed tact and went for you instead.”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter again.
“Don’t be,” he reiterates. “It’s telling of
his
character, not yours,” he says, before kissing my forehead.
“Whatever reason he gives is inexcusable,” Karen presses. She’s right, it is.
“
I
’
m
sorry he spoke to you like that,” Logan says to me quietly, meaningfully. He leans his head down and gently kisses my lips, his eyes pouring into mine the whole time.
I release one of my arms from around Karen and instead cup Logan’s face. “I’m sorry you lost a brother,” I reply.
He shakes his head, telling me, “I think I lost him a long time ago, I just didn’t accept that until now.”
Karen sniffs again and pulls out of our group hug. She takes a few steps away from us, leaving Logan and I huddled together, as she inhales several deep breaths and wipes her eyes once more. The makeup around her eyes is smudged and lopsided. “Maybe this is a good thing,” she mumbles, and I can tell that she’s trying to convince herself as much as us. “This is new territory for him. Maybe it’s exactly what was needed to make him change,” she muses.
Maybe, I think, or maybe it won’t change a damn stubborn bone in Taylor’s body. What it
has
changed is Logan’s life. He’s, at last, freed himself of the weight that his younger brother was on him, and he didn’t have to compromise himself to do it.
Looking up at him, I confess, “I’m glad you didn’t hit him.”
He gives me a half-smile, pleased that he’s pleased me. But underneath that smile, he’s hurting, I know he is. Disappointment must be seeping through him. Disowning his own brother is not what Logan hoped their relationship would come to, but Taylor’s let him down one too many times.
“Fights may be fought and won with violence, but violence never brings true resolution,” he says maturely. “It was time to end this properly and only clear communication can do that. I think I made myself pretty clear,” he sighs, and I nod in response. “I find words are more powerful, more decisive, more resolving,” he tells me, and pride swells in me for the millionth time tonight. He’s not interested in the drama of the fallout, he’s only interested in peace. Probably, I tell myself, because he knows more than most what it’s like to live out-of-peace with himself. He knows the depths of the darkness, and he’s not going to let anyone, not even his own kin, take him back there. His strength awes me; it’s inspiring to see someone make the right decision, even if that decision is difficult.
“Besides,” Logan leans closer, “I remember you telling me that I was worthy of you, and I promised you that I would try to always remain so,” he whispers against my lips. “I
want
to be worthy, especially now that we’re engaged,” he smiles a little more sincerely.
“Congratulations, by the way,” Karen pipes up. We both turn to look at her, and she continues, saying to me, “I’m so happy for you, I just…I hope Taylor’s actions won’t mar any chance of us getting to know each other better.”
“They won’t,” I promise her quickly. “You nor Abigail are accountable for him, and I’m really looking forward to spending more time with both of you, Karen,” I say, meaning every word.
“Good, I’m glad,” she nods. “When’s the big day?”
“This summer,” Logan and I say together.
“And your parents, do they know?” she wonders.
“Not yet,” Logan shakes his head. “We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while; it just sort of slipped out earlier.”
“I won’t breathe a word,” Karen assures us. “Now,” she sniffs for a final time, “let’s not stand here moping for the rest of the night. Let’s get a drink and toast to your good news…oh, unless you’re, uh—”
“Not pregnant,” we speak as one again.
“Drinks it is then,” Karen decides on behalf of us all, and neither Logan nor I object.
* * *
It takes half an hour, three shots of whiskey apiece, and several random outbursts of uncontrollable swearing for each of us to really relax back into the mood of the evening. Our parents can’t be spotted from our position near the bar, and looking around the many frivolities it’s clear that no one outside of the family is in the know about what transpired.
That
’
s something
,
at least
, I tell myself. Taylor may have put a dent in
our
evening, but everyone else seems to be having a wonderful time.
Soon, I feel the whiskey kicking in, making me feel giddy, chirpy, and considerably more drunk than I was standing in the corridor. I take Logan’s hand and link arms with Karen as we leave our station at the bar, and immerse back into the crowded room in search of a fun and much needed distraction, and it doesn’t take us long to find one.
Near the stage, where the tables were cleared for dancing, we find a third of the people in the room standing in a huge circle with a spotlight dance floor in the middle of them. The crowd cheers and laughs and whoops at their entertainment and edging closer, I spy Buddy and Abigail in the centre of them all, dancing up a storm. He’s clearly done a fantastic job distracting her.
As soon as Abigail spots us, she runs towards Logan and lures him into the centre of attention too. He goes with her willingly, and the pair of them meet up with Buddy in the middle.
Karen can’t stop herself from laughing. It’s a giggly laugh that makes me think that she’s feeling as tipsy as I am. “They look like a couple dancing with their daughter,” she says.
I laugh out loud too, nodding my agreement. A few more people join them and as soon as Abby releases Logan’s hand he makes a beeline for me. I assume he’s coming to be a bystander once more, but he’s got other plans, taking my hand and pulling me onto the floor.
“I like dancing with you much more than I’ve ever let on,” he tells me.
I grin back at him as I slip effortlessly into his arms, and everyone in our vicinity disappears from my focus. I like being back in our bubble, though if tonight’s taught me anything it’s that we can’t
always
stay here. There will be things throughout our life together that knock us out of it, but I revel in knowing that we can always come back to it. It’s a choice, I think, one that I hope I’ll always continue to make.
“There’s something I want to ask you about our wedding,” Logan tells me.
“Alright,” I smile at him.
“I know there will be a lot of things to organise,” he says correctly, “but there’s something I want to organise by myself.”
Just one thing
, I think. “I don’t want to do everything else alone.”
“No, no,” he shakes his head. “We can do everything together, there’s just one thing that I want to do
without
you, to surprise you,” he explains, before amending, “Two things. No, actually there’s three.”
I smile at him again as we continue to languidly dance. “And they are?” I wonder.
“Our wedding song,” he says, and it’s clear that our current movements are what reminded him to ask me, “our honeymoon, and the destination of the ceremony.”
Hmm
…
“Well, obviously you’ll be choosing an N*Sync number for our first dance,” I tease, “and our honeymoon will most likely be an extended stay at Beaux Rêves,” I assume, “so because I already know those ones, you can have them,” I say with a laugh. “The destination of the ceremony ties into too many other things though. It’ll say on the invitations, so everyone else will know except for me.”
“Not necessarily. I’d just get everyone to meet at one location and then bus them to the actual ceremony site.”
“Oh…”
That
’
s genius
!
However, taking my response as resistance, Logan concedes, “OK, I’ll keep the song and the honeymoon a secret. Your guesses are nowhere near correct, baby,” he chuckles. “And I’ll let you in on the location…soon,” he teases me back.
“You have somewhere in mind, then?”
He nods. “Somewhere that I think you’ll love.”
“Intriguing,” I say, before my attention is drawn to Karen and Abigail dancing nearby and a sudden, strange sadness overcomes me as I wonder if Taylor will
let
his wife and daughter come to our wedding. That would be yet another way for him to try and punish Logan. Not to mention, it would probably break Mary-Gene’s and Rupert’s heart.
Unbeknownst to them, this evening has resulted in their sons disbanding, and because of that, a creeping seed of guilt floats into my mind once more. There’s no
point
in chiding myself by continually thinking I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I can’t change that now, but I can do something else.
So
,
let
’
s look at this logically
,
Gem
…
if I
had
’
ve
kept my mouth shut earlier tonight
,
what then
?
Well, Logan might not have disowned his brother, but the animosity between them would continue to grow, and fester, and spoil. I surprise myself when feelings of gratitude course through me that the events of this evening ended in the way they did, because I don’t
want
Logan to be part of a relationship that toxic, and I
don
’
t
have to feel guilty for playing any part in stopping it.
Good
, I think, feeling a little more at ease now that I’ve come to this conclusion. But even though my spat with Taylor may now feel justified to
me
, how Logan’s parents are going to think about it is still a concern. I’ve been concerned for no reason once before though, I note, remembering the conversation that Logan and I had about me worrying his parents would think I’m a bad influence after his fight with Jerry. This memory distracts me momentarily…