Page 83 of Regards, Mia

Max is all grown up now, and he’s about to become a husband.

Maybe some elder sisters would be envious that their little brother was getting married before them.

Not me.

I’m happy for Max and Samantha. She’s the woman I’d always hoped would fall in love with my brother.

Memories of me and Max as kids flash before my eyes. Max at Christmas, unwrapping a toy guitar. Max getting his permit and learning how to drive while I cling to the passenger seat door for dear life. Max breaking down in tears at our grandmother’s funeral. The look of pure murder on Max’s face when I told him what happened to me Freshman year.

Max and all the trouble we got into as kids, all the experiences we shared, the love we gave, the bond that could never be broken.

He’s so much more than a brother to me. Max has always been there for me. He’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. My hopes and dreams for him and a happy future are even more than what I have for myself.

I feel the threat of tears and I haven’t even seen my brother yet.

Brad and I line up with the other attendants and get ready for the big moment. Chelsea and one of Samantha’s male cousins step up behind us, and behind them is Samantha. She looks stunning in her gossamer white gown.

At the cue from the wedding director, Brad and I step out of the lobby and cross the courtyard to the beach. We turn the corner and walk along the white carpet laid over the sand, dividing two sections of white chairs in rows.

Lights strung from the palm trees twinkle against the pastel-colored sky, and white tiki torches glow along the path.

Max stands under an archway decorated with tropical flowers, his blonde hair stirring in the ocean breeze. He looks so handsome and hopeful in his white suit. He takes my breath away.

As we step onto the white carpet, the wedding guests turn andlook at us. I scan the familiar faces, spotting my mom and dad in the front row. Directly behind them is Jay.

Our eyes meet, and I feel him looking all the way through me down to my soul. He sees past all the barriers I erect, all the bullshit I pile up so nobody gets to know the real me. No man has ever looked at me the way Jay looks at me, as if I’m the most important person in the world.

I stumble a little as Jay’s mouth shifts into the tiniest of smiles. I didn’t think he ever smiled, but now I realize I’ve been wrong. I just had to get to know him better to catch his subtle gestures. His face barely changes, but I can see the faint crinkling of his eyes, and the twitch of his lips. His joy is all the more special because of how stingy he is with expressing it.

Emotions pinch my chest, and I feel the rise of tears clouding my vision.

“Don’t cry, ShortCake,” Brad says in a low voice.

I suck back my tears and jab my cousin in the ribs. “Don’t call me that.”

Brad elbows me back. “Only Sanchez can call you that, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“You two gonna be the next wedding?” Brad asks.

I purse my lips to keep from saying something I might regret. “Shut up, Brad.”

“Can I be in the wedding?”

Frustration mounts inside me. I have no intention of marrying Jay or anyone, and right now, all I want is for Brad to mind his own business.

“It’s not serious between us.”It’s not even real.

Brad’s eyes twinkle with a knowing gleam. “You brought him to a wedding, but it’s not serious?”

I can’t admit to Brad that Jay and I are fake, but how else can I convince him to leave me alone? “It’s not what you think.”

My mom is giving us the death glare, and I can only imagine what Chelsea is going to have to say about Brad and me chatting it up the entire walk down the aisle.

“I think he’s the exact opposite of everything you say you want in a man,” Brad continues, oblivious to the laser beams of disapproval shooting from my mother’s blue eyes. “So, he’s basically perfect for you.”

My toe hits an uneven lump in the carpet they’ve laid over the sand, and I nearly stumble.

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