Everything I’d assumed about Marcus had possibly been wrong or at least misconstrued. I didn’t know what to think, had no idea what to feel. Couldn’t help but remember the wayhe’d held my hands in his only days ago, the ring he’d wanted to give me between us. How my hands had shaken holding my small bouquet as I’d walked down the aisle toward him at the ceremony. How his eyes had held mine, steady and sure, until I’d taken my place beside Katie and Rhianna. I’d been grateful when the bridal party photos had all been group ones. Beyond grateful.
When Marcus had left me sitting in his bedroom, I’d stayed there long enough to think that even though things were fractured between us, I still wanted him to ask me to stay. Knowing I shouldn’t need him to say the words, shouldn’t want him to say them, hadn’t made it any less painful when he didn’t. It’d killed me all the same.
At first, I’d been angry, so frustrated at the ridiculous roller coaster our lives had taken us on and the lack of choice I’d had in it. The initial anger, however, had faded fast, and I’d been left having to acknowledge that I, too, had made choices. Choices that involved not coming home, not hearing about Marcus, and not acting like I cared about his general existence for the last eight years. I’d spent the last two days thinking about what it would’ve been like if our roles had been reversed. I liked to think I would’ve responded differently, but I couldn’t be certain.
The icing on the cake of my turbulent thoughts is the thought of Marcus owning my grandmother’s house. Knowing he has no intention to tear it down should be a relief. But instead, I can’t stop thinking about the life he’ll have if he chooses to live there. And more importantly, who he’ll choose to share it with.
Buttons secure, I move in front of Erica, giving her a final once-over and a bright smile. “You’re a goddess.”
She ignores me completely. “Are you sure you’re okay, Hallie?”
“Erica, I’m perfect. In no uncertain terms is there a place I’d rather be right now. This day is magical.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Seeing you and Jules happy? It’s what I want to see, it’s what I want to be a part of. It’s your day. Stop worrying about me.”
Katie pops her head through the door, calling us for the speeches, and though Erica doesn’t look like she believes me, not one hundred percent, she still says, “Okay.”
Marcus stands, clasping his little brother tight in his arms, their smiles radiant. I’m grateful that he’d been able to mend things with Julian, that Julian had listened when we’d spoken.
Just like the day at the tailor, Marcus looks unbelievable in his suit, coat jacket thrown over his chair, the top button on his shirt undone beneath his tie.
If you didn’t know him, the light shadows under his eyes would go unnoticed, but I saw them. I’d noticed.
Ever able to command a room, he gives the guests a quick, cocky grin.
“Good evening. As most of you will know, I’m the groom’s older and better-looking brother. And through his own personal selection and poor judgment, I amthe best man.”
Guests laugh politely, and he continues, relaxing into his role. “Jules, where do I even start? Growing up together, we had our ups and downs, competing in sports, family Monopoly nights, and for the interests of girls. But no matter where in our lives we’ve found ourselves, you’ve always been the best brother a guy could ask for.
“Julian, you’re a man who’s loyal and dedicated to those he loves. You might be my baby brother, but in the way of love, you outpaced me as soon as you met Erica. And who could blame you? She’s a woman worth crossing oceans for, and a beautifulbride at that.” He takes a small pause, looking over to the bride in question, shooting her a quick wink and a smile.
“Watching the two of you together—the way that you respect one another, but more specifically, the way that you show up for one another—has been eye-opening. Julian, seeing how you fight for Erica, how you stand up for your love for her, unwilling and unwavering in your dedication to her, is something I admire in you. And I know from the happiness that radiates from you that I’ll be a very lucky man indeed to have this for myself one day.
“I’d never admit it in any other circumstance, but as kids, Jules and I were quite big fans of the Olsen twins and their cinematic masterpieces.”
There’s a small smattering of surprised laughter, and both the groom and his best man share a similar pink flush to their cheeks. I feel myself smiling as I listen along, as this isn’t something I’d known about them either.
Marcus continues, a small smile playing out over his features and lighting his eyes.
“We watched their movies and sang along to their music.” He looks down, giving a little shake of his head as if he can’t believe he’s made that fact public. His eyes lift once more. “But what I remember most is how love was described in one of the films. That it has to be ‘can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence, World Series kinda stuff.’ They did a pretty good job of being able to express to two young boys just how big love was meant to feel. And as someone who’s felt that love, who knows this feeling, I’m so glad the two of you are going to get to experience it together for the rest of your lives.”
My eyes are locked on Marcus the whole time he speaks, each word melting into me, and then as he returns to his seat, his eyes find mine. There’s no cocky grin, no teasing smirk.
His words ring through me. And as someone who has felt that love, who knows this feeling.
Beneath the table, Erica’s fingers dig into my thigh, her sharp nails a piercing presence that I barely register among the turmoil spinning inside me, but then she’s clapping along with everyone else.
I can’t bring myself to be so polite, so put together. Instead, my hands tightly grip the seat of my chair. Whether I’m holding myself in place or about to use the coiling pressure as a form of propulsion is yet to be determined. Most shockingly, however, is the sudden knowledge that it’s not away from him that I want to run, but to him.
The emcee for the night calls the happy couple up to cut their cream-frosted cake, and as Erica rises, she leans in close to my ear, whispering, “If you leave him, you’re crazy.”
Erica’s right. I am crazy, just not for the reason she’s thinking.
I follow along blindly with the running sheet of the evening as Erica and Julian make their way to the floor for their first dance. The lights dim, allowing for the white pillar candles in tall glass colonnades surrounding the dance floor to illuminate the moment, if only for this one song. The rest of us will just have to do with the ambiance provided by the fairy lights strung up and above our heads.
Julian leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to Erica’s neck, and then he spins her out, her dress lifting and flowing around her feet. Her smile is joyous to behold, my heart swelling with happiness for them.
