Page 133 of So That Happened

I feel like firing my phone at the wall. Watching it smash into the plaster and shatter into a million little insidious, vitriol-coated pieces.

But, as a pacifist with the throwing arm of an uncoordinated five-year-old, I settle for beating my fists on the duvet.

The flabby punches make me feel stupid, so I roll onto my back instead, staring blankly at the ceiling. The crown molding around the light is really pretty. Fancy. Pristine and perfect. The opposite of how I feel right now.

How could everything go wrong so quickly? Everything that felt so perfect between Liam and me last night now feels muddied by my past coming back to haunt me.

What have I done?

And, more pressingly, what am I going to do now?

46

ANNIE

It really is a beautiful day for a beautiful wedding.

Luke and Mindy are married in the mid-afternoon sunshine in an intimate outdoor ceremony under the willow tree in the ranch’s gardens. She’s radiant in white lace, and he’s glowing with pride and happiness.

The smell of honeysuckle carries through the warm breeze, and the creek gurgles approvingly in the distance as the officiant pronounces the happy couple man and wife. Luke sweeps Mindy off her feet in a showstopping kiss. And from his position at the front, heartbreakingly handsome as he looks out onto the crowd, Liam’s eyes find mine.

My heart constricts. This might be a celebration, but for me, it’s the unthinkable: I’ve gotten myself into a situation that feels horribly familiar.

Only this time, I’ve fallen in love with a man who’s an innocent bystander.

I bite my lip so hard I taste metal as Luke and Mindy descend the aisle hand in hand to a roaring standing ovation. Clap as hard as I can, palms stinging as I smack them together, trying to drown out the noise in my head.

The thoughts of the conversation I’ll have to have with Liam tonight, when the wedding’s over, flip over in my head. I don’t want to break this news to him today, on such a happy day, but I know I can’t keep him in the dark.

When you strike a match and keep it isolated, it burns out in mere seconds. Extinguished in a couple of heartbeats. But if you hold that same match to something flammable—boom!—you can create an inferno. So really, when holding a lit match, you’re actually holding the potential to set the world on fire, or to let it fizzle away to nothing.

It’s how you apply it that matters.

Right now, that match is in my hands. And when this thing goes up in flames, Liam’s going to be the one who gets burned.

That thought physically hurts.

Dinner and speeches follow the ceremony. Mindy’s maid of honor—her sister Holly—is hilarious as she regales the crowd with tales of the girls’ recent trip to Vegas. Then, Liam takes the mic.

His best man speech is impressive. Funny and heartfelt and clearly full of love. He honors their late mother, and his close bond with his older brother, and there’s not a dry eye in the house when he’s done. Even Mr. Donovan Sr., AKA my new least favorite person (well, it’s a toss-up between Justin and him. They both deserve the Nair in the shampoo treatment equally), looks vaguely moved.

By the time the last toasts are given, the cake is cut, and the band makes their way onto the stage of a fairylight-illuminated marquee, it’s already getting late. Poor little Legs, who’s stuffed to the brim with overexcitement and vanilla sponge cake, is trying to keep her drooping eyes open. She’s wilting like a wildflower in her crumpled, soda-stained, floofy dress, while Lana Mae speaks sweet words to her.

I watch Mindy and Luke hold each other as they have their first dance. They move in sync, gazes locked, bodies pressed together.

I can’t tear my eyes away from them. I’m so happy for their happiness.

A warm hand slides across my lower back, making me jump. But I recognize the confident, strong touch almost immediately. Lean into it automatically.

“Hey, you,” Liam says as he comes to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on my head. “Between photos and speeches and being Luke’s errand boy all day, I feel like I’ve barely seen you.”

I twist around so I can face him. Across the room, couples are making their way onto the dancefloor to join the newlyweds.

“Do you want to dance?” I’m stalling. Like a coward.

“Sure.”

Hand in hand, we make our way to the center of the swaying couples. He puts his hands on my hips, rest them on the small of my back. I wind my arms around his neck and draw him close, never wanting to let go.

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