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Mine Would Be You Page 10
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The sooner this wedding is over, the better. I need to get back to my normal life. Back to my daily routine. It’s the only way I can keep myself sane and not allow myself to dwell over all this shit.
“Here you go.” Delilah’s voice comes from behind me, overly chipper as her face appears in her window, along with her hand, which is shoving a paper to-go cup at me.
Taking the coffee, I pop the plastic lid open and lightly blow on it. “Thanks again for the coffee.”
“No problem.”
We spend the remainder of the ride to our parents’ talking about safe topics, like who’s coming to the wedding, Alabama baseball, and her honeymoon plans. I know the question is on the tip of her tongue as to why I was found standing awkwardly in front of the cemetery. But being the Miss Positivity that my sister is, I know she’ll never come out and ask. She, like me, prefers to talk about anything but that day. She saw how it tore not only our lives apart, but mine and Emelyn’s relationship too. It’s a subject best not discussed between us. Maybe one day that’ll change, but for now, that’s how it is, and how I prefer it to be.
“Thanks again for the ride. Mom went all Suzie Homemaker, cooking enough pancakes to feed the entire firehouse. If you’re hungry you should come in and have some. I know Ma would love having her two favorite children home for breakfast.”
She knows me well enough to know I have an ulterior motive. Mom was trying to play matchmaker last night with Emelyn and me, and the last thing I want is to be left alone with her this morning to listen to her go on and on about how cute it’d be if we got back together. Delilah can distract her with wedding shit, helping me avoid talking about Emelyn and the relationship that’ll never happen again.
Turning the ignition off, she beams at me with a knowing smile before climbing out of the car and following me towards the house.
“You’re lucky I love you,” is all she says before entering the house.
~~~
May 3rd 2010
Today is Emelyn’s 20th birthday—her first birthday in eight years that I won’t be spending with her. It’s been almost six months since the accident, since I threw away the only good thing in my life. Still, today, the pain is just as raw as it was six months ago—possibly worse now than it was then, because every day, the guilt eats away at me a little more.
Right now, I’m in my new truck, which I don’t deserve, but my father insisted on buying me, driving around a town that at one point held all my dreams. Now, it holds all my nightmares. I’m living a life I shouldn’t be living, preparing to graduate from a college I hate being a part of, because Emelyn isn’t here. Driving around with no destination in mind as I try to block everything out of my head. I try to outrun my demons, but they somehow find a way to keep up with me. It’s impossible to escape the hell I’ve lived in for the last six months.
So many times, I’ve thought if I was dead, the pain would stop. Everyone would be better off without me anyways. Who would miss me?
Sure as hell not my fiancée, seeing how I lost her, thanks to my stupidity and self-destructive ways. The life I had all planned out with her is gone, leaving me a future that is unknown and terrifying. I spend every week sitting in a cold room with white walls and zero personality, talking with a dry and stuffy old guy about my ‘feelings’ for an hour, and then leave, still the same shell of a human being I was when I walked in.
The only way I get through the day is by letting my mind drift to happier times. My memories with Emelyn are my lifeline. They’re what keep me going. I may not have her, but I have all the good times locked in my mind forever. Every day, they replay in my head like the perfect movie, showing me the life I had, and could’ve had, if only...
I look towards my passenger seat and, for a split second, see Emelyn beside me, rocking her Ray-Bans like no one else can, wearing my ball cap and a smile that can brighten even the darkest of days. She has her toes up on my dashboard, wiggling in the warm summer breeze as she sings along to another pop country song on the radio.
As quickly as the memory is there, with a blink of my eyes, it’s gone. The cold, hard reality of it is I’m alone. I lost the only good thing in my life and it’s all my fault.
I replay the accident in my head every single day. I replay Emelyn’s face when she confronted me about cheating on her every single day. It’s like a movie playing over and over again in my mind, reminding me why I deserve to be alone and miserable as fuck. I don’t deserve happiness, and Emelyn deserves more in life than a piece of shit boyfriend who destroyed all of her dreams and took one of her best friends away forever in the process.
She is and will always be the best thing I ever had, and the worst mistake of my life. Every day, I ask myself, Why did I push her away?
Why didn’t I fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness? Why did I just stand there on the street that day and let her drive away with tears in her eyes?
Before I realize what I’m doing, I find my truck pulling onto the highway heading toward Lincoln. An hour and thirty minutes later, I’m driving toward our street.
Pulling onto our road, I park down the street from our houses and discover I’m walking on foot toward where I know she, and more than likely my sister, is. She left this morning to come home and celebrate Emelyn’s birthday with her. She never talks to me about Emelyn, and I never ask. It makes it easier to get through each day without her. I hate that my sister is in the middle. I hate that this is now our lives. I have no idea what to do to fix it.
With my head down and my hands stuffed in my pockets, I stroll past my house and slow down my pace as I approach Emelyn’s. The large picture window is lit from inside the house. My feet falter as Emelyn comes into view. Seeing her is like a sucker punch to my gut. Instantly, the air is knocked out of me. I close my eyes momentarily as I try to keep it together. Opening them, I breathe in slow, shaky breaths as I watch her laughing and talking with her parents and Delilah in the living room.
Everything in me is screaming to walk up to the front door and knock on it, to take this moment to fix my wrongs.
But instead, I find my stubborn ass once again doing the one thing I know deep in my heart I shouldn’t do. I turn around and walk away.
I keep telling myself she wouldn’t want to see me. It’s been six months and not one phone call. Not one letter.
Absolutely nothing.
She hates me—which I don’t blame her for, because I hate myself.
I love her, but I know she deserves more than the love from a hollow man.
Climbing back into my truck, I fire up the ignition and whip a U-turn in the middle of the road with the only destination in mind being the pub down the street from the frat house. If there was ever a time I needed to drown my sorrows and numb the pain that is consuming me, today would be it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emelyn
Present time
I awoke Thursday feeling like I was on my deathbed. Drinking way too much wine the night before and then crying buckets before falling asleep just before dawn will do that to a girl. I told my parents I was feeling ill and was calling into work. Thankfully, they didn’t press me about my puffy red eyes when I walked into the kitchen to give them both hugs goodbye.
I was grateful for them letting me crash in my sister’s room so I didn’t have to call a taxi to bring me home. When I came into the house last night, they were already in their room with the television blasting the nightly news. I was relieved, because I wouldn’t be grilled on why I was a blubbering mess.
I had sat outside on the porch for almost an hour before I dragged myself inside. I kept hoping Lawson would turn around and come back, but of course that never happened.
Sleep was my best friend for most of the day. As soon as I got to my apartment, I sent Delilah a text letting her know I called into work and wouldn’t be meeting her for our morning coffee, and then curled up in my bed and passed out.
Friday was a way better day for me. I finally felt well
enough to return to work, but the entire day, I barely ate a thing, because my nerves were fried. I was freaking out about the rehearsal dinner, where I’d have to see Lawson.
He barely spoke two words to me the entire time, so I did my best not to let it get to me. It was not an easy task, when all I could think about was our kiss and then our exchange of words two nights before. It was beyond awkward walking down the aisle with him for the practice run-through of the wedding.
Tucker was sweet, like always, and I felt even worse, because I don’t have the same feelings for him in return. I told him we’re only attending the wedding as friends, but then every time Lawson is around, I find myself being more flirtatious with Tucker than I’d normally be, in turn giving him all the wrong signals.
I told Delilah Friday morning over coffee about everything that happened with Lawson, and then she went into full on panic mode. She’s been stressing ever since, thinking we’re going to do something to ruin the wedding. She told me she ripped into Lawson Friday before the wedding rehearsal, letting him know if he did anything to upset me, she’d kick his ass. Which is quite comical to imagine her, this little 5’4” flying fit of furry trying to beat up a 6’2” solid wall of muscle that is Lawson.
I reassured her I was fine probably about a million times, telling her I just got caught up in the heat of the moment and that was it. But the reality of it is I am a mess inside. I’m doing well, masking the pain I’m feeling with my big, bright smile and chipper mood, but inside, I feel nothing but pain and sadness.
You’d think I’d learn by now he is nothing but a smooth-talking player who does nothing but break hearts and keeps on moving. After him cheating on me all those years ago, you’d think my brain would say, ‘Frig that!’ the second he rode into town, and not want anything to do with his sorry ass, but now, here I am heartbroken once more, sad and depressed, because I allowed myself to fall under his spell again.
I was never so happy to hear my dad say we were done. We all headed out for pizza and beers together at the local pizza place before calling it a night.
We all knew today would be crazy busy and all of us girls had to be up at the crack of dawn to go to the salon and get our hair done for the wedding.
Today is the big day, and I cannot believe it’s finally here. After a year of planning and Delilah having some minor Bridezilla freak-out moments, she’s finally getting married.
Right now, we’re sitting in a small room in the chapel Delilah is getting married in, preparing to walk down the aisle. All I can think about is seeing Lawson standing at the end of the aisle in his suit next to Grayson, and how hard it’s going to be to walk towards him, knowing it isn’t for our wedding.
We should’ve been planning our wedding alongside my best friend, but instead, my engagement ring sits inside my jewelry box as I stand here in a church squeezing the hell out of the ribbon-covered stem of my bouquet, thinking how I’m going to end up being some crazy old cat lady who’ll spend her life dreaming about a wedding that’ll never happen.
“How you holding up?” my sister Camryn asks as we stand at the door, waiting to be told it’s time to come out.
Shrugging my shoulders, I give her my best fake smile. “I’m fine. Really. So please stop asking me every five seconds. How about asking the bride, who’s looking as white as a ghost right now?” I spot Delilah standing beside the window, gazing out of it.
We were all nervous it’d rain, but it looks like it’ll hold off until later tonight. Her reception is an outdoor one under big party tents. So if it by any chance starts to rain, we’re all good to party the night away.
I’m glad we went for short flapper-style bridesmaids dresses, because it’s easily a hundred degrees right now and it’s not even one o’clock yet.
I walk across the room over to Delilah and tell her, “Just take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. You’re about to marry the man of your dreams, girly! I want to see that big beautiful smile on this gorgeous face of yours.” I pinch her cheek playfully before pulling her in for a hug.
A knock at the door alerts us that it’s show time. Releasing her, I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Closing her eyes, she inhales a deep breath then blows it out between her bright red lips. Opening her eyes, she gives me a small smile. “I feel better. Let’s do this. I’m ready to become Mrs. Grayson Abbott!
She looks stunning in her ivory lace wedding dress. It has layer after layer of lace, with hand-sewn flowers on it, and has that 1920s retro feel. My sister and Marissa are in silver, sleeveless flapper dresses with beading and fridge, and cute ivory satin t-strap pumps with detailed jewels that run down our feet and stop at the top of their peep-toe openings. I’m wearing the same shoes, but in a light pink flapper dress that hugs every curve of my body.
I am excited to see how the wedding photos come out, because we all have retro up-dos, with our hair in tight curls topped by lace and beaded headbands. Delilah has a gorgeous silver rhinestone headband that belonged to her grandmother, who’d worn it on her wedding day, as did her great grandmother. Her mom, of course, missed out on it, because she wore one of those god-awful looking dresses and headpieces that were all the rage in the early 90s.
All the guys are wearing ivory slacks with crisp white shirts, black bowties, and black suspenders. I am absolutely in love with the whole theme we came up with, and I’m honored to know I was the one who helped her perfect day come together.
“I’m so excited!” Marissa squeals as we shuffle out of the room. With every step, my stomach tightens. I’m excited for Delilah, but also nervous about what the rest of this day is going to hold for us.
When we open the door, we find Mr. McCoy waiting outside the door. His dark hair is combed off to the side, and his mustache is perfectly trimmed. Holding his arm out, he beams at Delilah. “You are a vision, my sweet girl. I can’t believe you’re about to get married. It seems like just yesterday you were running around our yard with your cute missing-front-teeth grin. Where has the time gone?” he asks, shaking his head and patting her hand.
Delilah and Grayson’s French bulldogs are their ring bearer and flower girl. They look adorable, with Bubba, the male dog, wearing a cute little dog vest and has a pillow strapped to his collar with their two rings tied to it, and Bella, the female dog, is wearing a cute ivory dress with a tutu-style skirt. She has a mini flower basket hanging from her mouth.
Jesse and Tucker come in from outside just as we’re lining up. “Ya ready to get hitched, Dee?” Tucker asks as he walks by and gets in line with my sister, and Jesse joins Marissa.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says nervously.
Tucker’s eyes follow me as I give Delilah one more hug and then walk towards the doors with the dogs. He looks amazing, and I keep asking myself why I can’t just want him. It’d be a whole lot simpler if I did.
Unlatching the dogs’ leashes, I set them on the bench beside the doors, and as I open the doors up, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” starts playing. It’s a beautiful rendition of the song, slowed down and played softly on the piano.
I have to will my feet to keep moving when my eyes lock on Lawson standing at the end of the aisle. He looks cool, calm, and collected, while I’m a mess of nerves.
How is he is freaking calm right now? Did our kiss the other night do nothing for him? Because it sure as hell confused the heck out of me!
The dogs waddle down the aisle as I follow behind them. I’m squeezing my bouquet so tightly I’m surprised they don’t snap in two, causing my wildflowers to tumble to my feet. Everyone’s standing in my father’s packed church and are smiling at me and oohing and ahhing over the dogs as we make our way down towards Grayson.
I take my place on the left and watch as everyone else joins either me or Grayson and Lawson. Finally, it’s time for Delilah, and the second she walks through the doorway and down to Grayson, the entire church is in awe. My best friend looks beautiful and I glance up at the ceiling of the church, mentally talking to L
ily, telling her I know she’s here with us today for this monumental moment in our best friend’s life.
The look on Grayson’s face when he first sees her is priceless, and the photographer must agree, because she snaps probably a hundred shots just of him before turning the lens on Delilah. My dad is marrying them, which I think is the sweetest thing ever, because Delilah has been like a daughter to him, just as I have been to her dad.
The entire ceremony, I find my eyes navigating to Lawson, who I catch once or twice looking my way, but each time, his face is expressionless.
As soon as my father announce Grayson and Delilah as husband and wife and it’s time for us to all exit the church, my stomach shoots up into my throat. Each step feels like an eternity, and my legs feel like they’re made out of lead. Lawson holds his arm out to me with a crooked smirk on his face as I slide my arm through his and we exit the church, but other than that, I get nothing out of him.
We spend an hour doing wedding photos outside in the field beside the church. Delilah insists Lawson and I take a picture together, because we are the Maid of Honor and Best Man and she needs it for her bridal book. She isn’t fooling me. I know her better than anyone, and my best friend has ulterior motives.