Page 48 of The Wedding Twist

He paused before opening the door. He shouldn’t leave like this. But he didn’t know what else to do.

The only sound was the soft classical music playing through the lodge’s speaker system.

“Jack,” said Celeste. “I thought you’d be happy for me. You encouraged me to do this.” Her expression was pleading. It was too much.

“I am happy for you,” he said, almost choking on his words. He knew he was being unfair. He had encouraged her. He’d hoped for her to get good news. But the truth was his buy-in had a limit. Now she was leaving, and he’d be the left-behind all over again. He felt pathetic. He couldn’t be that guy.

“Listen,” he said. He could barely force himself to make eye contact with her, and when he did, the hurt in her deep green eyes hit him like a dagger. “I think you’re great. But this isn’t going to work out.”

Her concern turned to annoyance. “You told me I should go for it.”

“I’m happy for you,” he said, but no one with a brain would have believed him.

She took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Well, you’re doing a shitty job at showing it.”

They stood in silence, until Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. He had two choices: Let Celeste know how much she meant to him and pretend they could make it work long distance, only for her to fade away. Or just cut to the inevitable.

He didn’t want any part in her staying behind. This was her life, and if she stayed and things didn’t work out with them, or if, like she was predicting, the lodge changed hands to someone who wasn’t prepared to employ her, she’d just resent him for it. It was best for them both to just move on.

“You’re right,” he said. “You deserve better. ’Night, Celeste.”

She didn’t follow him out, and he didn’t blame her.

He got into the truck and glanced at the bouquet of flowers on the passenger seat and shook his head, then turned on the ignition, a wave of foolishness washing over him. He’d let it happen again, but this time was worse.

This time he’d known better.

Chapter Fifteen

“Go away,” Celestesaid, burrowing farther under a quilt on the couch in her living room after another set of knocks came at her door. Quinn had been by twice already since she’d told her parents she couldn’t work that day, and Celeste had been forced to tell her what had happened with Jack. Quinn had tried to give her advice, but after a few minutes she’d told her sister she just wanted to be alone. Quinn was sweet. She was a great listener. But she had never been in love, and Celeste didn’t feel like talking to someone who didn’t get it.

She heard the door open. “Sorry, not sorry,” a voice called—the most perfect of voices for what she was feeling right now. It was Ava.

Celeste sat up as she came through the door, her arms weighed down by bags.

“Holy hell, you look like shit,” Ava said. She laughed. “Clearly I should have been here hours ago!”

Celeste burst into tears, burying her head in the pillow.

Ava approached the couch, dropped the bags she was holding, and sat right next to her, taking Celeste’s head in her hands. “Get a grip, Celeste,” she said. “And once you’ve done that, go get ready. We’re going out tonight.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

“I gave up a full day with Sam to come up here. She’s with Calista overnight. I dropped over a grand on a great outfit for you—and under-eye patches, which I thought you might need.” She ripped the pillow away from under her head and examined Celeste’s face. “I was right. So you,” she said, pressing her finger to Celeste’s chest, which made her laugh, despite herself, “are getting your ass in the shower while I mix us some negronis and warm up these patties from Steady’s.”

Celeste’s eyes pooled with tears again. “I love you,” she said. She buried her head in her sister’s shoulder.

Ava took her by the shoulders and looked at her head on. “Stop emoting. Go get ready,” she said.

Celeste stood under the hot stream of water in the shower. The last thing she wanted to do was go anywhere, but she wouldn’t win with Ava. One drink at home, one at the bar, and in a couple of hours, she’d be changing back into her fleece pajamas and crawling into bed, floating off to a dream world where Jack Wallace didn’t exist.

When she exited the shower, she found a wardrobe bag on her bed. Ava might not have been the one she could count on for warm fuzzies, but she was thoughtful and showed love in her own way.

And today she was showing her love with a very generous swipe of her credit card. Celeste’s eyes widened as she pulled out a soft knit off-white cashmere sweater dress from the Holt Renfrew bag, with a price tag that left no doubt her sister was doing very well at her job.

She slid the dress over her body and looked in the mirror. It fit her perfectly, and for something on the more snug side, it was also very comfortable. Maybe money did buy happiness.

When she returned to the kitchen, Ava had laid out some bowls of appetizers and two deep-orange cocktails. She looked up at Celeste and nodded in approval. “Much better,” she said. “Where do you want to go tonight?”

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