Page 32 of Aisle Come Back to You

“Are you sure about that, babe?” Pete’s grating voice interrupts, causing my lips to press into a straight line as my hands ball into fists at my sides. I have a sinking feeling I know exactly where this is going, and the irrational urge to slam his face into the table grows by the second.

“Am I sure about what?” Ronnie asks, turning to look back at her fiancé over her shoulder, the tension between them palpable as the rest of us observe in silence, our expressions reflecting a shared sense of annoyance and frustration.

“Oh, come on, you know.” He shrugs with a small laugh, as if this is the most hilarious conversation ever.

“Know what?” I press, fighting every instinct in my body to take a step toward him.

“We all know the stress of wedding planning has been a lot, so it’s no surprise you’ve put on a few pounds these past few months, and I know you’ve been stressed about fitting into your wedding dress so…”

“I saw her in her wedding dress at her fitting the other day and she looked perfect,” I snap. I couldn’t honestly care less about how much my friend does or doesn’t weigh, especially since she’d be able to rock it at any body size, but to have him comment this in front of a group of people, when she looks as stunning as she does, is a fucking joke—and not a funny one.

“I hope you aren’t serious,” Miles cuts in, stunning all of us. “Your fiancé is literally one of the hottest women in this bar right now, and you’re worried about her eating some fucking donuts? You need to get a grip on reality, and fast. In fact, the next round of drinks, wings, and donuts is on me, and you better not say one fucking word to anyone about what they are or aren’t eating.”

Clearly unwilling to engage in further discussion, he abruptly pushes off his stool, the screeching sound of metal against the floor echoing before he heads to the bar to place our order, leaving us all in stunned silence.

“I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Ronnie finally says, her voice quivering.

“I’ll go with you,” I say, moving to stand as well.

She shakes her head and gestures for me to sit. “I’ll be fine,” she assures me. While I don’t completely believe her, I nod inagreement, reaching out to give her hand a gentle squeeze as she walks away, reluctantly letting go only when our hands must finally separate.

“I’ll be back,” Pete says. While I’m tempted to tell him to go fuck himself and leave her alone, I decide not to insert myself into this one as he makes his way toward the bathroom as well. Plus, he owes her an apology, and that fucker better be on his way to give her one.

“Did I just make a mistake by not following?” I ask, my brows creasing in concern.

“No, I think it’s probably best that they hash this out without an audience,” Ford decides. “I can’t imagine it was all that fun to have Pete talk to her like that in front of her best friends.”

“That’s the problem, though,” I cut in. “If this is how he talks to her in front of her best friends, I don’t even want to imagine the way he talks to her when it’s just the two of them.”

“I’ve wondered and worried about the same thing,” he admits with a sigh.

“So what do we do?”

“Whatcanwe do? Are we supposed to tell her that we don’t think she should go through with the wedding? I’m not sure if you remember, but I don’t think that one worked out all that well for you the last time you tried it,” he says, with a teasing undertone.

I shoot him a look, especially since now isnotthe time. “In my defense, last time was different. I had completely different motives for not wanting that wedding to happen.”

“Well, who knows, maybe she’d actually be smart and listen to you. We both know I should have,” he admits, letting out a large exhale, the full gravity and seriousness of this situation seeming to consume both of us.

“Can we be serious for a minute, though?” I ask. While I get where he’s coming from, I also feel like this is an importantconversation to have. “I was being selfish when I asked you not to marry Jenny, but with Ronnie and Pete, it just feels wrong. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He’s not the guy she’s supposed to marry. He’s just so…icky.”

“Icky?” Miles asks as he plops himself back down between Ford and me.

I try not to panic about what he might’ve overheard, especially since I’ve never opened up to him about my little love confession when Ford got married. Fortunately, he seems to move past that part.

“Yes, icky,” I huff, sitting up straighter and sticking by my word choice.

“When it comes to that dipshit, I think it deserves something a little stronger than‘icky.’Seriously, that guy is the biggest narcissistic asshole I’ve ever met in my entire life. What the hell is Veronica thinking?”

“Well, in her defense, you can’t always help who you fall in love with,” Ford says, coming to our friend’s defense as our eyes meet. A peculiar warmth snakes through my body, but when he glances at my brother, I realize he’s not referring to me; he’s likely recalling the memory of falling for Jenny. “I also have to believe that he isn’t always this bad. She couldn’t be that naïve, right?”

“I would hope so,” I sigh, dreading the idea of him getting even worse over time.

“Hey guys,” Ronnie’s cheery voice greets us just as the drinks and food are brought over to our table by our server. “Sorry about all that,” she further apologizes.

There are red bags under her eyes that suggest she’s been crying, and even though it does look like she’s reapplied her makeup, I can’t help but worry that she’s only putting on a brave facade for our sake.

“No problem,” Ford says,reverting to his usual people-pleaser self as he brushes it off, as everyone busies themselves with getting their fill of food and drinks.

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