Page 25 of The Best Man

“I spent last night in your brother’s bed,” I blurt, disbelieving.

His jaw locks. I see the anger flash in his eyes, but he doesn’t look at me. “You thought we were over. Obviously, now you know better, so you’ll keep your fucking legs closed.”

This feels more wrong than anything I experienced last night.

I can’t marry you.

But I can’t say the words, either.

Tears sting behind my eyes because I don’t think I can get out of it. I was stressed about telling his family and all our friends the wedding was off, but this feels much worse.

He doesn’t evenwantto marry me, he’s just going through with it because he doesn’t want to disappoint the people attending the wedding! That’s a crazy reason to get married.

And I know deep down he’ll never forgive me. It doesn’t matter if it wasn’t my fault. The way he avoids looking at me with anger in his eyes now… that’s the way he’ll look at me forever.

I don’t want my husband to look at me that way.

I want my husband to love me.

Yes, I want to be a wife, but not just anyone’s wife.

The way I feel today, I don’t know how I could have possibly been prepared to marry him yesterday. I wasn’t happy with him yesterday, either, but at least I wasn’t terrified.

Right now, I’m terrified to marry him.

Joey escorts me back to the bridal suite like a bouncer, then releases my arm so I can go inside. “Get ready. We have pictures to take, and the wedding is in just over an hour.”

My heart aches as he storms off, and then aches worse when Julia gives me a supportive little sideways hug.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, shaking my head. “I don’t deserve it.”

I’m surprised by the gentle firmness in her tone when she says, “That’s not true. If he was being mean, it’s because he’s an asshole—and a hypocrite. Just ignore him. No couple is perfect. All couples fight. He’ll get past it eventually. Just do your best to ignore any cruelty he throws your way in the meantime.”

Chapter Eight

I stare at my reflection and see a bride, but I don’t feel like one.

My chocolate brown hair is tied up in a soft fairy-tale bun with just a few tendrils left down to frame my face. My makeup is perfect, my dress is beautiful. Charlotte hands me my flowers. It’s a lovely, delicate bouquet of pinks with a few pops of white and yellow.

I remember wondering if Joey would like this dress. If it would be good enough for him. He offered to fly me to New York and buy me an expensive one from a famous dress shop in the city, but when I saw this one in the window of a bridal shop in town, I just fell in love with it. I sway a bit and the fabric sways with me. I smile faintly, but I can’t muster much enthusiasm.

“Damn, you look pretty.”

My heart stops at the sound of that voice, and I turn, wide-eyed, toward the entrance to my bridal suite.

“No boys allowed,” Julia admonishes, preparing to kick him out. “Especially not you.”

“Wait,” I say, my heart in my throat.

Marcus looks so handsome in his tux. It’s identical to Joey’s. He was supposed to be the best man. I guess if the wedding is still on, he still is.

My heart aches at the sight of him.

I don’t know why I didn’t expect him to be here. I guess I thought… Joey said he couldn’t marry me in front of him.

But I suppose someone would have reached out and asked where he was if he hadn’t come, just like Charlotte did me.

It stings to see him here. At my wedding, in that tux.

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