Page 34 of Always a Bridesmaid
“You promised Doris you’d live your life to the fullest, but all you do is work and think about work,” Addie said. “And you haven’t looked at a woman the way you look at Violet in a long time.”
Live life to the fullest. The words scraped at him, a reminder of what Doris had told him and how he’d failed her on too many levels.
“I can’t get tangled up in a complicated situation—I’m not even sure how long she’s staying in Uncertainty.” Used to be, he’d take any and every opportunity to chat up a beautiful woman. He’d had a few serious relationships through the years, like his off-and-on thing with Trina and a woman from Opelika who claimed she didn’t mind he needed space and wasn’t interested in settling down.
Occasionally, when he’d missed plans due to work or extending a camping trip, she’d get pissed. But he’d make it up to her, and things would go back to normal.
Until they hit the one-year mark and she gave him an ultimatum about moving in together.
He’d passed. The next weekend, he came home to find a box of his destroyed belongings. His favorite AU T-shirt and his camo hoodie had been shredded, and the DVDs he’d taken over for various movie nights had been snapped in half.
After that, he’d given up long-term relationships for good. Only on the rarest of occasions did he miss having a special someone.
“Does that silence mean you realized you’re not, in fact, living your fullest life?” Murph asked.
Ford arched an eyebrow at her. She raised one right back.
“It means I need to get a new group of friends. All y’all know me way too well.”
“Wah-wah-wah. How about you stop being a big ol’ baby”—Addie snatched the baskets of food that’d arrived and shoved him in the direction of a certain pretty brunette splattered in paint—“and start living a little, dude? And in case you’re wonderin’, I’m not takin’ no for an answer.”
…
Surprise pinged through Violet when Ford approached the high-top table and chose the stool next to hers. Another emotion came along for the ride—one best unnamed, since she’d vowed to stay away from guys who wouldn’t choose her in the end.
“Here,” Ford said, thrusting a basket of fries in her direction.
“Thanks.” She snagged a couple and bit into them.
Too hot.She seesawed her breaths in and out, in and out, attempting to cool the food.See. Things that are too hot are a good way to get burned.
She grabbed her glass and downed a swig of beer.
Then grimaced.
“Let me guess,” Ford said. “Not a beer girl?”
“I try to be.”
A contemplative crinkle appeared. “Try to be?”
“It’s been implied that not liking beer makes me high-maintenance, which I’m totally not.” Funny how Benjamin had given a ten-minute lecture after she’d purchased the wrong IPA—she hadn’t paid attention to labels and bought blue instead of black—and then told hershewas high-maintenance for preferring “froufrou” wine.
Lexi leaned in from the other side. “If preferring wine over yeasty beer makes me high-maintenance, I’ll happily own it. You want a rosé? That’s what I always get.”
“No, that’s oka—”
“Will, honey? Can you order Violet a glass of rosé?”
“On it, babe.” The guy everyone except Lexi referred to as Shep stood before Violet could insist she was fine.
In some ways, that had been her downfall with Benjamin. In her attempt to tame her anxieties about being too “needy” and her desire to be the perfect future wife, she’d settled for his likes. Let him mow her over in the name of not disagreeing.
It’d been so good in the beginning, though. Back then, they’d done lots of little things to make each other feel cherished instead of nitpicking at each other’s flaws.
Always and forever…
Hurt bloomed through her chest, aggravating old hurts that refused to fully heal. Somewhere in the depths of her wedding binder were the vows she’d written. She’d ended them with the phrase she’d repeated to Benjamin upon parting and each night before bed.
