Page 19 of Free Me

Erik, ever the voice of reason in our motley crew, vetoes the suggestion. “I’m not sure that will work, since we kind of need to see the diagram to determine where we’re setting everything up.”

I sigh dramatically and slump against them. “Fine. Be that way.” I give them one more squeeze and let them go. “Where is this beastly diagram?”

Erik keeps an arm over Jules’ shoulders and follows me to the breakfast nook, where adorably rudimentary drawings of the house and lawn are waiting. We sit and he slides copies at me. “So, we need to come up with two plans. If we can, we want to have the wedding outside, so the first layout is for that. But if it rains too hard, we’ll move everything inside. That’s this layout.” He taps the page closest to me.

Thankfully, moving things inside won’t be a problem. The house is big, and the guest list is small. Erik and Jules want to keep the festivities to family and close friends only. I eye the drawings critically. “Who was the Picasso?”

Erik chuckles and raises his hand. “I didn’t know I’d be graded on my art.”

“We’re all being graded, hon. Always.” I gesture at the layout. “So, we’re deciding where to put the food and where to have the ceremony?”

Jules nods. “Yeah. And that’s the last of the decisions we need to make. Then it’s just waiting until the day.”

We spend the next half hour discussing options, moving around the paper tent and table cutouts that someone—probably also Erik—made for this project. We decide on the two setups that will work best, and I take a picture of them with my phone, then fling myself back in my seat. “Done!”

Erik brushes a knuckle along Jules’ cheek. “Thank god. I love you, sweetheart, but this wedding stuff is a lot.”

It’s so obvious they’re besotted with each other, and it’s hashtag couple goals, but it has me a tad envious. I’m never going to have that. I’ve come to terms with it, but there are days like today where knowing that hurts. Pasting on a big smile, I throw my arms wide. “That’s why you have me!”

“And we’re so lucky we do.” Jules takes Erik’s hand, then extends his free hand to me.

I grab it and squeeze gratefully, incredibly fortunate they still feel that way. “You might have been luckier if I hadn’t meddled in your love lives, though.” It’s been bothering me for a while. I meant well, but it doesn’t excuse my actions. “You’d have been together sooner.”

“No!” Jules frowns and grips my hand tightly. “Stef, don’t even go there. You did what you thought was best, and you probably weren’t wrong.”

His anger surprises me. “How can you say that? You were miserable. And Erik wasn’t much happier. And the whole time, you thought I wanted to keep you apart, but if I’d just talked to both of you like the adults you are, you’d have been happier sooner.”

Erik glances at Jules. “We’re not so sure about that.”

I snort and wave at them. “The two of you are disgustingly sweet and so in love. Of course you would have. If I hadn’t muddied the waters.”

He shakes his head. “We’ve actually talked about this.”

Erik watches me closely, like he’s worried I’m going to be upset that they’ve discussed my bad behavior. Seriously? I’d have done the same. “And what conclusion did you come to?” I say it with a smirk on my face, but there’s a knot in the pit of my stomach. I’m glad we’re having this talk. We need to clear the air, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy to hear.

“We weren’t ready to be together. Not back then.” Erik kisses Jules’ hand. “You were right to call us on it. Neither of us was in a good place for a relationship, let alone one with each other. I was still too angry to come home and deal with my family. Can you imagine us trying a long-distance relationship?”

Jules snorts. “With my anxiety the way it was back then, it would have been a disaster of epic proportions. Until I found ways to manage it and learned coping mechanisms, I could never have been a real partner to Erik. No matter how much I loved him.”

Erik gets the sappiest grin on his face, and he kisses Jules on his knuckles while I squash my tiny spike of envy. “We found each other again when we were supposed to. I think it’s good we believed you wouldn’t approve. Because we had to really want this, want each other enough to fight for it.” Erik looks into Jules’ eyes, and I can see my brother melt. “I would fight anyone and anything to be with you, sweetheart.”

I sneak a paper napkin from the holder and dab at my eyes, hoping they’re too caught up in each other to see. “Hey.” Jules squeezes my hand again. “Don’t cry. It all worked out perfectly.”

I wave him off. “I’m not crying. I just have emotions in my eyes.” He laughs and comes around the table, giving me a tight hug, which I return gratefully. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Stef. Always.”

Two enormous arms engulf us in a tight hug. “And I love you both.”

I chuckle and bask in the warmth of the group hug for a few more moments, then push them away. “Okay, enough of the love-fest. My makeup will run, andthenwhere will we be?” They laugh and Erik sits back down, pulling Jules onto his lap. I grasp at anything to change the subject. “Are you sticking with the semi-formal dress code?”

Without hesitation, Erik fires off a response. “Yes. No tuxes or gowns. That’s way too much for either of us.”

“Invitations will say dress nicely, but comfortably.” He shrugs. “I guess that’s fancy casual? We’re leaving it up to the guests to decide what that means for themselves, but we’re pretty sure we’re going to wear suits.” Jules looks to Erik for confirmation.

“Yup. And after the ceremony, we can take off the suit coats and lose the ties.”

I gasp. “Not until after pictures!”

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