Page 148 of The Bridges I've Burned

Like that was fucking possible.

To say the day was a bit of a blur was an understatement.

I did my best to be wholly present for Marin, but I knew she could see the devastation written all over my face.

“We’re not saying good-bye, Elena.”

Then, why did you leave?

Why does everyone always leave?

Marin was the perfect bride. When she walked down that aisle and looked into Macon’s eyes, they defined love. Her lace gown fit her petite frame perfectly, accentuating her subtle curves and her tiny baby bump.

Billy effortlessly stepped back up to the role of best man, and Eli had no qualms, walking two McIntyre sisters down the aisle instead of one. If anyone wondered where Zander had gone, no one asked.

Maybe they all just chalked it up to the unpredictable life of a rock star.

By the reception, Macon had begun forcing Marin to take regular breaks, worried the excitement of the day would cause a repeat of the day before. As she was sitting with her feet up, sipping on a glass of sparking apple cider, she pointed to the dance floor.

“Go take my husband for a spin,” she demanded.

“I don’t want to,” I began to argue, not wanting her pity dance.

She nudged Macon out of his seat. “Go on,” she said. “If I can’t dance with him, someone else should. It’s hilarious.”

He rolled his eyes but shot Marin one last grin before we headed to the dance floor.

“Don’t step on my feet.”

“No promises,” he warned as he stiffly took my waist like it was on fire.

I snickered, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.

“You doing okay?” he asked.

I nodded a bit too quickly, making him smirk.

I let out a sigh. “Are you?”

“I’m sad that he wasn’t here,” he said. “But I understand why he left.”

“You do?”

“He knew the only way those reporters would leave was if he did,” he said without a shadow of a doubt. “He did it for us.”

I’d already thought of that, but in my own self-loathing, I’d brushed it aside and cast him as the villain. It was easier that way.

“Why not tell us that then?” I asked. “Why leave in the middle of the rehearsal dinner without even bothering to say good-bye?”

“Would you have let him go?”

The question nearly halted me completely, and I almost stepped on his feet.

No.

I would have barricaded the door and tried to find any other solution that didn’t involve him missing his brother’s wedding.

Mostly, I would have done anything to keep him from leaving me.

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