There haven’t been many tender moments between us, but this one right now will forever mark my memories.
And when he pulls his lips away and brings the hand that was holding my chin to my cheek, cupping it and brushing the tear that has escaped away with his thumb, it makes my heart ache because this isn’t real. This is some sick game that I am a mere participant in, and that makes me want to cry a goddamn river.
I bite my bottom lip hard to stop myself from showing him anymore weakness.
“Half an hour and then we can leave,” he says quietly, his eyes not leaving mine.
I nod my head and then the moment is over as his hand drops and we both turn towards our guests.
Our guests.
Our life together, and it’s all a lie.
* * *
Nate
Fuck. Seeing her upset makes me wonder what the hell is going on in that head of hers. She looks so fucking miserable, and I know that it’s because of me, but I also know that I won’t let her go. So, for my sins, I will suffer seeing her like this until I make her cry with laughter.
One day, this will all make sense to her, but not yet.
I haven’t even begun to show her the real world we all live in. She needs to see it and realise that there are very few people you can count on in this life. Most are out for themselves and will put their life above yours. People are selfish, and I guess I’m no different. But I’m only selfish with her because I need to be.
Twelve minutes until I can get her out of here.
Twelve minutes until we can go home and she can try to shut herself off from me again.
That kiss just now was unexpected. I didn’t have a plan to kiss her like that, and I sure as hell didn’t expect her to respond. But now I know that she doesn’t completely hate me, and I have to work on that in order to get her to see that I am not the monster that she thinks I am.
Eleven minutes and counting.
The plates have been cleared away and the guests are drinking their final glass of champagne before they switch to spirits for the remainder of the evening. I won’t be here to see it, and I couldn’t give a shit, if I’m being honest. Highly unpractical to leave your own wedding early and miss the evening part, but my life is anything but practical. I do what I want, when I want, and no fucker will ever question me about it. Except maybe Stefan, but he soon gets told.
Stefan is sat the other side of me, and I turn to him and inform him that we will be leaving in nine minutes time. He gets up and starts to prepare our men for our exit.
This may be a wedding, but there is no way I was taking any chances––today of all days––when it comes to safety. There are men out there that want to gut me like a fish, so my guys are always on hand to watch my back, and now my wife’s.
Eight minutes. I am starting to wonder why the hell I didn’t just fly us out of here and to some private beach where we could have gotten married on the sand, the sound of the waves in the background, and no fucking people there to bother us.
Seven minutes, and oh fuck me, here comes Zoey. Jesus, she’s like a bloody noose around my neck at times.
“Hey, bro,” Zoey says as she slides into Stefan’s seat by the side of me.
“Zoey,” I say, knowing damn well she’s seen Stefan doing the rounds and that she is going to try and keep us here.
“Don’t be so bloody formal, Nate, it’s me, your sister, not the fucking queen,” she says, and I hear a soft chuckle from the other side of me. I’ll take that over Kat’s tears any day. Zoey is thirty-one and full of fucking mischief, and I don’t need her bringing that mischief around my new bride. Zoey can be very persuasive when she needs to be, and I don’t think it would take much for her and Kat to form some sort of fucking alliance just to try and get under my skin.
“Why are you preparing to leave already? I haven’t even had a chance to speak to your wife… you know, the one you never thought to mention until the invitation came through the post, and the one I am yet to meet properly,” Zoey says, her tone taking on a sarcastic edge and showing just how pissed off with me she is.
“I had my reasons,” I respond.
“Which were what?”
“Never you mind.” It’s all she’s getting because in four minutes, I’ll be out of here and away from her interrogation.
“Not good enough, Nate. We’re family, and family should stick together,” she says.
“Yes, Zoey, they should, but it’s not always the case, as you full well know,” I bite back.
