Page 1 of With You

PART 1

THE WEDDING

DEACON

Iknow better than to wipe my sister’s tears and ruin her makeup, but as they continue to fall down her cheeks, it looks like she’s about to do a pretty good job of that herself. We’re the only two remaining in the wedding suite, waiting for our cue to leave.

“These are h-happy t-tears,” she manages to sputter out. “I promise. I j-just can’t seem to m-make them stop.”

“I can see that.” Standing opposite one another, I place my hands on her shoulders and offer her a comforting squeeze. “Anything I can do to help? Do you want me to get Hayden?”

Her breath hiccups as she shakes her head, willing herself to stop. “I’ve already cried enough in front of him this weekend. The man deserves a break.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Have they been happy tears the whole time?”

“Of course,” Victoria blurts out a little too quickly. “I’m just so happy for you and Julian.”

There aren’t many people in this world that I can read as well as I can read my sister. And while I know she isn’t lying, I also know there are a million bittersweet reasons for her tears.

“You can tell me,” I say gently, trying to coax out the words I know she doesn’t want to say. “You know I feel it all too.”

When she remains silent, I release my hold on her to search for a tissue. When I finally find the box, I grab it and hold it out to her. “Here,” I say. “Wipe your tears and talk to me.”

Appeasing me, she dabs at the corners of her eyes and then her nose, but she remains silent.

“You’re not the only one who wishes he were here, you know,” I confess to a quiet room. “But I can bet you’re not selfishly torn up about what having him here would mean.”

“Deac,” Victoria whispers, immediately grabbing my hands and holding them between hers. “You know he would be happy for you.”

Guilt lodges itself in my chest, threatening to sour what is meant to be the best day of my life. It’s not about whether or not he would be happy for me, but rather the notion that my happiness is reliant on my brother’s death.

It makes me feel selfish and indulgent.

It makes me feel unworthy.

It makes me feel like a thief.

“He’s Rhett’s.”

Feeling overwhelmed, I allow myself to drop to the nearest couch and rest my head in my hands. My mother’s words often creep into my conscience at the most inopportune times, twisting me up from the inside out.

It’s been well over five years since we’ve spoken to one another, and while I have no doubt it’s hard on my father and sister, the fact that I can still feel her hand on my cheek and the disappointment in her voice, even on my wedding day, I know my choice of self-preservation is the right one.

I can hear Victoria shuffle closer, then sit on the wooden coffee table in front of me.

She places a hand on each of my knees. “Is giving him up an option?”

The question rattles me, and I snap my head up to meet her gaze. “What did you just say?”

Her expression is sad and sullen. “I said, is giving him up an option?”

Confused, I shake my head. “Are you asking me, on my wedding day, if giving Julian up is an option?”

Victoria nods. “Yes,” she answers resolutely. “Whatever you’re feeling right now, would it go away if you gave him up? Would it all be less complicated if you gave him up?”

Shocked by her question, I straighten my spine. “You didn’t think to ask me this when he and I first got together?”

“Then or now, is the answer different?” she challenges.

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