Page 9 of Poetry By Dead Men
Molly narrows her eyes. "Nope. No more. You need a clear head tonight. Do I need to fake an emergency? It’ll ruin the party, but if anything calls for ruining a party, this is it." Her eyes narrow as she thinks, then pop open wide. "I can pretend my appendix is bursting. It’s foolproof. We can get you out of here without having to even see him." Molly clutches her side, her fingers digging into the soft pink fabric of her dress as if she’s about to put on the performance of a lifetime, but I grab her hands.
"I love you." And oh, do I. She’s the best friend I could ever ask for. Especially because she isn't kidding. She would collapse on the floor right here, right now, writhing in pain and begging for help if I asked her to. "But I’ll be fine. He's just a man I used to know in another life."
Neither of us has said his name, yet, but we both know the exacthimI'm referring to.
Molly gives me a look that saysnothing about this is fine, but I hold my hands up.
"It’s been six years. I’ll be polite, and then I’ll enjoy the night with my friends and my fiancé." It's a lie. Trying to enjoy tonight will be like trying to have fun during a root canal.
"Polite?" She’s whisper shouting again. “This isBobbywe’re talking about. He was your soulmate, Beth."
"You’remy soulmate. But the love of my life," I say pointedly, "is right over…" I look around, finding Harrison speaking to his father. Harrison meets my eyes and holds up his empty hand, shaking it as if holding a glass. He wants that drink.
"Oh, stop it," Molly snaps at me, and I turn away from Harrison, pointing toward the bar. He can get it himself. And one for me, while he's at it.
But as I meet Molly's eyes again, I wish I'd gone to get him that scotch. She's leveling me with a look, one that causes shame to burn in my stomach.
She doesn’t have to say what she’s thinking. I already know. In no universe would she describe Harrison as the love of my lifeormy soulmate.
“I’m marrying him, Molly.” I sigh.
“But you don’t have to. You had a soulmate, once. Don’t you want that again?”
I narrow my eyes, and Molly lifts her hands in mock surrender.
“Okay, a love of your life, then? What you have with Harrison isn't—”
“What I have with Harrison is perfect. In case you’re somehow forgetting, that "soulmate" you’re talking aboutdestroyedme. Harrison is a good, stable man, and we’re happy together. Why can’t you just accept that?”
“I’m just saying, what if this is a sign? I mean, Bobby shows up here—”
I hold up a hand. “I appreciate your concern, but you’ve made how you feel very clear. I love Harrison. I’m marrying him,” I repeat, keeping my voice gentle but firm.
This is what I want. The next rational step. I can have a good life with Harrison. A happy one. And here's the most important part. He's never walked away from me.
He actually wants me, and he’sneverfaltered in that.
“Okay. I hear you,” she says, then freezes, her mouth dropping open and her eyes widening, frantic.
A familiar snap of energy runs across my shoulders, and the air thickens with tension, buzzing and making the small hairs on my arms stand on end.
I don’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind me.
I'd know that electricity anywhere.
"Beth." A deep, raspy voice sets my skin on fire—a voice that sounds as if it was made to say my name. I stiffen, plastering a practiced smile on my face. I refuse to let him rattle me. Or, at least, I refuse to let him see it.
Bobby’s gaze skates down my dress as I turn, recognition flashing in his eyes. Warm, familiar blue eyes brimming with a hundred different emotions, and I’m still able to discern every single one of them. The room spins around us, like he's the sun and everything and everyone else is simply in his orbit.My chest cracks open, making me suck in a sharp breath at the pain spreading between my ribs.
A fool.
That's what I am.
A damn fucking fool to think six years of distance would change anything at all. My mouth goes dry, and Molly leans forward to speak in my ear.
"I’ll grab you that third glass of champagne," she says, and I nod soundlessly before clearing my throat. I don't deserve her.
"Robert." I nod.Polite. Be polite, and move on."It’s nice to see you again," I say. But it’s not. It's another lie.
