Page 77 of I'm Not Yours
“I’m over it.” My voice wobbled. “I am. It was a long time ago.” I sniffled.
Then he sniffled.
I snuggled into his warmth and sniffled and he sniffled again. I felt a tremor in his chest.
I pulled back and studied those green eyes, through the tears of mine. “Are you . . . you’re not crying, are you?”
He coughed, then wiped a hand across his face and turned away. “A few tears only.”
“What?” I scooted around in front of him. “Why are you crying?”
“Why? Isn’t that obvious?”
“What? What is obvious?”
“You were married in a courthouse, on a lunch break, in a work suit, without your family. That’s sad, June. That’s sad.” He gave me another comforting hug. “He never should have allowed that, June. You deserved more.”
I couldn’t even see through the hot water in my eyes, not because of the lunch-hour wedding but because Reece, my Reece, my friend who I was trying ridiculously hard not to fall in love with, was upsetforme.
“You should have had your dress, your family, the whole huge, fluffy thing.” His voice dipped and split, pained.
My shoulders shook. I tried to hold it in, tried to control myself, tried to wrap up the pain and put it back in the sewing box, slamming the lid tight, as I’d done hundreds of times . . . but it didn’t work.
I burst into tears.
Yes, it had been sad.
It was still sad. I was still a mess because I’d caused the mess.
And yet, what was making me really cry was how compassionate Reece was. He understood, he grasped the pain and the loss, and he was upsetforme.
He wrapped me up tight again in his arms, his chest heaving a bit, and soon all thoughts of my cold and lifeless past with Grayson left, whizzing out the French doors and into thefrothing ocean, where I imagined they drowned in the waves, and I smiled.
Yep. I smiled through my tears.
Leoni, Estelle, and I worked for endless hours on August’s wedding dress, the bridesmaids’ dresses for September and me, and other orders.
We had fittings, calls, e-mails, some frantic, some panicked, some utterly grateful for their beaudacious dresses . . .
And in between the crush and the rush, I smiled.
I felt it.Happiness.
Seven Things I’m Worried About
Since I am still, technically, married, I can only be friends with Reece, but there is no way I can be “just friends” for much longer because he is delectable and that is a problem.
But! I don’t want to be involved with any man. I don’t trust myself. I don’t want to get hurt. I am not all together, I’m still emotionally wobbly.
