Page 7 of Best Man Speaking
“Hi, Marcus,” I say.
My tone is beyond the bounds of neutral, but not overtly rude. Because what the hell else are you meant to say after not seeing someone since the night they helped break your hymen?
He raises his eyebrows at my greeting, knowing better than perhaps anyone else at the table I’m simply playing nice. Considering he broke up with me the very next day, the day of my gran’s funeral, my first time gives the phraseI got fuckeda whole new meaning.
Before he’d left me in bed, he’d also asked me to marry him.
Naively, I’d agreed.
What can I say? I still happily hold a grudge.
“It’s good to see you, Hallie. You mind if I sit here?” He motions toward the seat on my left.
He once again clutches the back of my chair, and I feel the pressure.
I don’t respond right away, even though I have to say yes; no isn’t an option in this scenario.
I’m going to let him sit next to me, to have his body near mine, where I’ll be unable to see his face but clearly hear the lies that’ll spill from his lips.
But I don’t have to go down in this first round without a little, if slightly passive-aggressive, fight.
I look from Marcus to my bag and then back again. My smile is genuine when I find his eyes, hoping he sees the tiny bit of malice in my own.
“Actually, I like it when my bag gets a seat.”
Across the table, I hear Erica snort quietly and mutter, “Oh good lord,” into her wineglass.
My spine gets a little straighter with pride.
Game on.
It’s the first time the four of us have ever been at the same place together, let alone at the same table, and, wow, it’s not fun.
Thick silence drenches our party, making the noise and laughter of those around us uncomfortably obvious. Sadly, my ability to release words that’d be appreciated did not arrive with me this evening, so I hold my lips tight, letting the orchestrators of this little dinner date start and hold the conversation.
Cradling his drink in his hands, Julian sits forward, elbows on the table, moving his eyes from mine to Marcus’s as he speaks. “Obviously, we invited you to dinner tonight because you’re two of the most important people in our lives. We wanted to speak to you together—” A little cough sounds from Erica. Glancing at her briefly, Julian pauses and then continues. “Or really,Iwanted to speak to you together because I want you both to be a bigger part of the wedding.”
Afraid to know where this is going, I watch as Julian glances at Erica, who simply gives him a small smile of encouragement and then takes another sip of her wine.
Since when have the two of them grown up so much?
Julian takes a breath and releases it slowly. “Marcus, I’d be honored for you to be my best man.” And then he sits back, his part in this obviously done for now.
“Hallie, I’d love for you to be my maid of honor,” Erica says with a smile directed my way.
“We know this might not be ideal for either of you, but we want you both to be a part of this,” Julian finishes.
Wow.
My eyes might have been on Julian as he spoke, but now they feel as if they might be bugging out of my head.
“Are you serious?” I ask, not at all convinced my childhood friend hasn’t lost his ever-loving mind.
I knew they were only having a small wedding, and until this point, I’d assumed they were going to go without a bridal party.
“I am totally serious,” Julian responds, enunciating every word. He sits farther back into his chair, taking a long swig from his beer. “You’re my best friends, and I want you both to be an equal part of this. Hal, you’ve been the best wingwoman a guy could want. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you to be a part of it. I don’t want us to have to pick which one of you is involved in this day. You’re my family too.”
Before I have the chance to say anything else—or even think—I’m interrupted.
