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THE NEXT MORNING COULDN’T have been more different than the night before. Instead of light banter and fruity drinks, I sat on Rose’s couch in a thick robe, gripping a cup of coffee. I hadn’t been able to sleep all night. Truth be told, I hadn’t even tried. All I knew was that I had to get out of the cottage. After Tom and my conversation, I wanted to get as much space from him as this tiny island would allow.
Unfortunately, there was still that pesky little detail of the wedding.
“Hey,” Rose greeted me quietly as she ventured out of her room, “you get any sleep?”
I shook my head with a brisk smile. “Want to head to the pool and get some breakfast before we get dressed?”
“Yeah, sure.” She spoke carefully, like something about my face was making her afraid of setting me off.
I glanced at my reflection on the way out of the cottage and sighed. Sure enough. ‘Sad girl’ was back. I wondered what color I’d have to dye my hair to get rid of her this time...
We found Eric sitting at a table down by the pool. He looked animated and refreshed, all of his features bright and shining as he texted happily away on his phone. When he saw us coming, he jumped to his feet and gave me a swift kiss on the cheek.
“Well good morning, darling! What can I offer you this fine day? We have croissants, espresso, this strange mango-kiwi thing—”
“Who were you texting?” I asked sweetly.
He paused for a split second. “Oh—uh—no one you know.”
My eyes narrowed dangerously. “It couldn’t have been that volleyball player from the beach, could it?”
Instead of looking guilty, he leaned forward with obvious excitement. “How did you know that? Because Jenna—”
“Tom saw you last night on the beach.”
All the color drained from his cheeks, and he stared at me like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “...oh.” He ran his hands quickly through his golden hair and avoided looking me in the eyes. “Well...maybe there’s still a way to salvage this. I mean...we could say I was really drunk—”
“It’s fine.” I shook my head sadly. “In fact, it’s probably for the best.”
He squeezed my hand with concern. “What happened last night? Why the face?”
“No face,” I lied, trying to keep myself from crying. “Last night I just...clarified my priorities, that’s all. Or rather...I clarified Tom’s priorities. He does love me. But he loves his job even more.”
For one of the first times, Eric’s face darkened in actual anger. “Jenna, do you want me to go kick his ass? I’m not joking. That idiot really has it coming—”
“No, I definitely don’t,” I laughed shortly, “but that’s really sweet. I just want to get through this wedding and go home. You with me?”
“Absolutely,” he said quickly, taking my hand. “Here—try some of this weird fruit thing, you’ll love it, and let’s get you some champagne.” He snapped his fingers for a waiter before turning back to me suddenly. “And let me just put this out there now: I’m sorry if I ever forget Thundercats is over and accidently kiss you from time to time. I’ve just gotten really used to the straight guy routine over these last few weeks. It may take some time to let go.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Gotten used to the straight guy routine? Judging from last night, apparently not...”
His face lit up excitedly as he glanced reflexively at his phone. “Oh my gosh, Jen, you have no idea. It wasn’t even really my fault. I was just walking back to my cottage when—”
I held up my hand. “Eric, I love you, but if you tell me about another one of your happy little romances right now, I’m going to strangle you with your napkin.”
He immediately tossed the napkin into the pool and winked. “Understood.”
Just a little over an hour later, I headed over to the bride’s cottage to find my dress and get ready. I had only met Stacy once, and I didn’t know any of the other girls, but everyone was absurdly welcoming. In their eyes, I was the girl who’d stepped in like a hero and saved the day when Caroline came down with the appendicitis. (That’s right, that’s apparently a condemnable offense when you’re in a wedding.) The dress, a low-cut halter in a beautiful shade of blue—fit me like a glove, and it wasn’t long before the whole wedding party was gathered together outside for pictures.
I held my breath as Tom walked slowly toward me in the sand. He was wearing a silver tuxedo, just like the rest of them, and against the backdrop of the light tropical sun, he looked like some kind of poster boy for sex fantasies. His face was stiff with tension as he held up his hand in tentative greeting, but before he could get close enough to speak, a six-foot-one Adonis knocked him hard in the shoulder.
“Oh, sorry Tom,” Eric glared, “I didn’t see you there.”
Tom took the hint and backed off. I had to admit, if Eric was looking at me like that, I might have backed off too. Fortunately, at that moment, the photographer arrived and we were manhandled into position.
I had to give it to him, Eric tried to shield me from Tom as best he could, hovering threateningly in between us like some vengeful demi-god. But as the best man, he was usually positioned front and center—whereas Tom and myself were paired off together as a couple.
I followed the photographer’s instructions to the letter. Smiling when I was told, posing when I was told. When the man told Tom to put his arm around me and act natural, I held back the tears and took his hand robotically, keeping my eyes fixed on the camera as my body turned to stone.
For his part, Tom didn’t speak to me. He definitely wanted to. He looked like he was on the verge several times. But each time he’d either look at my numbed expression, look at Jamie and Stacy, or look at Eric’s constant stream of murderous scowls before stopping himself.
In a weird way, I was grateful. I didn’t know what I’d do if he tried to dredge the whole thing up again. I didn’t know what I’d do if he tried to take me in his arms. Judging by the way my legs kept buckling beneath my long dress, there was a good chance I might just fall apart.
After what seemed like an eternity, the picture portion of the wedding was complete and everyone was immediately paired off into the line-up to walk down the aisle. As they parted, Jamie squeezed Stacy’s hand whispered, “See you in a minute,” before he headed to the altar. I couldn’t help but smile, even though it make me just unspeakably sad.
They really had it all, didn’t they? The promise, the commitment, the future. It didn’t seem so hard when they did it. Just put on a dress, get up before your friends and family, and say—‘yeah, I love you.’ No need for it to be a secret. No need for it to be hard.
They had no idea how lucky they were.
“Alright, Jenna and Tom, are you ready?”
The terrifying resort wedding planner—who it had to be said, timed the blessed affair with the precision of a firing squad—grabbed me by the arm and forced the two of us together.
“Now remember—right together, left together. And no matter what you do,” her face darkened threateningly, “smile.”
I took a deep breath and glanced at Tom. For one of the first times I could remember, he looked just as out of sorts as I did. Then the music began and he offered me his arm.
There’s nothing more fun than walking up the aisle with the man who just broke your heart...