Page 91 of The Plus One
Collin chuckled lightly at that before a hiccupping sob tore from his throat.
“He’s not coming,” he admitted after another rattling breath.“Something came up, I guess, and he can’t make it. He sounded really upset, though. At least there’s that.”
Right. Because putting on a sad voice was all it took to justify this man’s toxic actions and constant empty promises. The bar for fatherhood was on the ground, and Greg always showed up with a shovel.
“He did say that he thinks he’ll be able to make a visit up here soon. Maybe in the new year.”
Indira wanted to scream at the note of optimism in her brother’s voice. But she understood. That little bait—that easy, promising phrase of wanting to see them soon that Greg dangled like a carrot in front of his children—never failed to make either of their hopeful hearts bite.
“Collin,” Indira said, swallowing back her own tears. “I’m so fucking sorry. That piece of shit.”
Collin waved his hand. “Seriously, it’s okay. It’s fine. I honestly should have seen this coming. You were right,” he said with a shrug.
Indira had never wished to be wrong more than she did in this moment. She didn’t have words to tell Collin how sorry she was, so she hugged him instead, holding him close. He held her back.
“Can I ask you a favor?” Collin asked after a few minutes.
“Of course.”
“Would you be willing to walk me down the aisle with Mom? You are two of the most important people in the world to me. It should always have been you two giving me away.”
Indira started properly crying, shoulders shaking and snot pouring out of her nose. “Nothing would make me happier,” she said through her sobs.
“It’s going to fuck up the symmetry of the—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Indira said, hugging him again. She felt Collin nod in agreement.
A few minutes later, there was a soft tap on the door, Angela poking her head in. “You two okay?” she asked, crossing the room to her children.
They shot their mom similar, pointed looks.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting on the other side of Collin and wrapping her arms around her kids.
“It’s not your fault, Mom. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“He doesn’t deserve you two,” Angela said, her voice thick with emotion. “And I love you so much.”
Another tap at the door interrupted their moment.
“I’m so,sosorry,” Jeremy said, repeating the phrase of the moment. “But Natalie is about to ditch us if we don’t do the rehearsal now.”
“I’d rather die than lose Natalie,” Collin said, pushing to stand. He smiled down at them. “Come on, you two. We have an aisle to walk down.”
The rest of the rehearsal went smoothly (thank God) and was wrapped up in about twenty minutes, the wedding party filing out of the barn and packing into cars to head to the dinner.
“Give me a minute?” Indira asked, pressing a kiss to Jude’s cheek.
“Take your time,” he said, rubbing the end of a strand of her hair between his fingers before letting her go.
Indira walked around to the side of the barn, tucking into a corner to avoid the wind, the heat of her anger burning her from the inside.
Indira didn’t like feeling angry. It was an uncomfortable, swollen feeling that took up too much space in her chest when it finally broke free from the lockbox she tried to keep it trapped in.
Due to the busyness of the past two weeks and travel for the wedding, Indira had, regrettably, needed to cancel a few therapy sessions. She’d told Dr. Koh about the trickle of worry in her chest about not having their sessions to untangle her emotions for a bit, especially with the looming interaction with her father. Dr. Koh had smiled, a true, broad smile.
“It’s okay to sit with the feelings that don’t feel good,” Dr. Koh had said. “It means your body is digesting them, taking what it needsfrom the sensation and processing the rest to leave you, or guide you on what to do to honor those feelings. Express them to others. And our sessions will be ready and waiting for you as soon as you’re back.”
With fumbling, angry fingers, she unlocked her phone and jabbed out a number, blood pounding in her ears as it rang.
