Page 8 of Theo
"Right, I do.I'd forgotten to order you one of those red carnations for Valentine's Day.I think my Valentine was more original.It also got me suspended for the rest of the day, but it was worth it cuz I got my message across."
"To the whole damn school but you're right.It was way better than one of those wilted carnations."
"Besides, it was true.Loved you then, Lacey, and I love you now.Come home to me."I'd already put myself out there, so I figured I'd just go for it.
"I'm getting married on Saturday," she said.
The tequila buzz was starting to fade and reality was sinking in like a heavy weight."Yeah, so I hear.Jules keeps me posted on all the fancy wedding news.Never pictured you as the expensive, showy wedding type."
"That's because I'm not.I'm just sort of a fixture in my future mother-in-law's dream wedding.All I have to do is put on the dress, show up and smile for the photographers and videographer.And yes, she hired three photographers, so she could have more photos to choose from."A scraping noise came through the phone."Oh wait, that's Oscar.He's my only friend this weekend.Just a second.I need to let him in."
I heard her walk across the room and greet Oscar enthusiastically.I sat up like a jealous asshole.Was Oscar the doctor, the fuckface who decided he could take the love of my life and fucking marry her?
She picked up the phone.
"Wait, are we talking in front of your fiancé?What the hell?"
A photo came through.It was Lacey with her cheek pressed against the cheek of a yellow lab."That's Oscar," she said.
Seeing her made me sink back against the pillow.Her thick brunette hair was piled up messily on the top of her head, and she was wearing a pair of silky pajamas.She used to walk down the beach in her bikini, and every head would turn.
"Those eyes," I said not really meaning to say it out loud.
She laughed."Oscar, Theo likes your eyes.They are something, aren't they?"
Blue eyes stared back at me from the photo."They sure are.God, Ace, you're still as hot as ever.I'd do anything to hold you—" I needed to check myself.She was marrying someone else, and she sure as hell wasn't heading back to her small hometown or to me."Hope that asshole knows how lucky he is."
Lacey didn't answer.She'd started the sniffles again."Theo, I should go," she said softly.
"Not yet," I said."Just need to hear your voice a few more minutes."
"You remember," she said."You always said that to me when we were talking at night.Even after we'd been talking for two hours, you always said 'not yet.Just need to hear your voice a few more minutes.'"
"Couldn't get enough of you, Lacey.Remember what we used to say as we hung up?"
She paused."How could I forget?Shall we?"
"Yep.Sweet dreams, lover, just make sure I'm in those fucking dreams."We said it in perfect unison and then she laughed.Missed that sound so fucking much.
I'd had my dream moment, but it was over.She was getting married on Saturday, and maybe that would be good.Maybe that would force me to stop dreaming about her.I had to let her go.It was going to feel like a rubber mallet hitting my chest, but maybe it was for the best.
"Thanks for this, Lacey.Thanks for letting me—I don't know—fuck—thanks for letting me know that there's still a piece of me in your life."
"Never forgot you, Theo, and I never will.Goodnight."
"Night, Ace.Hope it all turns out great for you.It's what you deserve."
We hung up.I held the phone for a minute longer.Somehow, there was still enough tequila in my bloodstream to let me believe she'd call back and tell me it was me, that it had only ever been me, but the phone didn't ring.I set it down on the nightstand, scooted down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.
"Fuck.I'm never going to sleep tonight."
SIX
LACEY
My eyes opened in the dark room, but I knew from the sounds and commotion downstairs that it was morning.The blackout shades on the bedroom had blotted out any sunlight.I got up to open one of the shades and braced myself for that crazy transition that you felt when walking out of a three-hour movie.I squinted and waited for my eyes to adjust to the light.It was a gorgeous spring day, and the weather app assured us that it would be the absolute perfect weekend for a wedding.As the bride, that should have made me giddy with joy, but I just didn't care.All I wanted was for this lavish, long festival to end.George was right.Once we were alone on our honeymoon and an ocean away from his mom, I'd feel much better.It would also give us some private time to discuss some of the things that had become issues between us, like where we'd live and my job.George had a busy career, and all his choices were his own.His parents had unsuccessfully tried to convince him to go into plastic surgery because "that was where the real money was."It was something I heard both his parents say often, and I always wondered what they meant byrealmoney.After getting to know them, I understood.Real money was the kind of money that let you buy a massive yacht that you only stepped foot on once a year.Real money let you toss out millions of dollars for a wedding weekend without a second thought to budget.Real money was having a staff on hand to take care of all your needs and then never actually learning the names of those very same people because they didn't haverealmoney, only the paltry salary you paid them.
George's decision to specialize in cardiac surgery disappointed his parents, but he'd earned big points with me.He chose to help save lives rather than give women big breasts and high cheekbones.Not that cardiac surgery didn't providerealmoney, and as young as George was, he was already making a name for himself in the field.And somehow, I'd managed to land the man.I needed to try harder today.
