"My father's best friend's daughter."
"Why is Dallas part of the wedding and not you?"
"The bride wanted to ride a horse down the aisle, and Dallas's horse is the only Thoroughbred on the property that's been gentled for trail riding…and Titan is majestic."
The horse is indeed regal, but once again, I find my mind wandering back to the man at its side. If Titan is a Thoroughbred retired to trail riding, and London is his owner, then does that mean he's the one who trained him? Is working with horses his therapy the way it is mine, and if so, is his madness rooted in the same vein as mine?
Stop it, I internally scold myself before subtly elbowing Sydney again. "Remind me why I need to stay mad."
"Because he lied. Because he didn't trust you with whatever truth brought him here. Because he cut us all out of his life like we meant nothing. And if that's not enough, because while he may not be the one exchanging vows today, I don't think he's single. Check out your new bestie."
That will do it. I bring my hands together in my lap and squeeze until my knuckles blanch white. I look over at Madison and catch it. There's an unmistakable heat in her eyes as she watches London, it’s a lover's heat. Though I'm not sure howmuch love can ever really be found when the person he's with doesn't even know his real name. My heart can't help but contradict my mind at every turn. It's desperate to write a new ending than the one I've hopelessly tried to rewrite, the one that doesn't end with him. We could be wrong; I was wrong about the wedding. The truth is neither of us knows who he is anymore.
Sydney discreetly snapping a photo earns my attention. "What are you doing?"
"Sending Fisher the proof that he picked the worst best friend of all time."
Her comment on the heels of me questioning London's ability to find a genuine relationship with someone who doesn't even know his name has me remember something else.
I turn slowly to the man on my left. "Do you know who I am?"
Madison isn't the only one who calls London by a different name. His so-called brother, the same person Asha asked me to dig up dirt on, does too. If they're truly brothers, then it's possible that Trigg is covering for him. But what if he's not?
Trigg's eyes skeptically drag over me, and he lowers his mask just enough for me to see that whatever words are about to cross his lips have been crafted. "No more than you know me." He knows. He may not know exactly, but he knows enough to understand that I mean something to London. The question I have now is, why would he invite me here? Recognition flickers across his face, and he leans in, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from my ear in what I now believe is a move meant to provoke—only, I'm not the target. "We'll talk."
My mind doesn't get a second to process his words before the crowd around us stands and erupts into cheers as the newlyweds are officially announced as husband and wife. I join in the celebration and follow Sydney in a daze as we all exit the ceremony to return to the tent.
A hand slides across my bare back, and I tense. "I need to congratulate the newlyweds. Promise you won't run off?"
"Oh, you don't want me to come with you?" I try to play it cool, like his comment seconds ago wasn't unsettling.
His hand lightly squeezes my hip. "I'd love nothing more than to have you on my arm. I only assumed you wouldn't want to, given my father is standing over there too." There's a hint of mischief in his eyes when he adds, "I didn't think you'd want to meet the parents on the first date."
"I didn't realize this was a date." I can't help but smile. Tricks or not, Trigger Hale is a charmer.
His mouth drops open mockingly. "I asked you to be my plus-one."
"Who actually considers a wedding a date? You didn't even pay for anything."
His free hand covers his heart. "Now, I'm wounded."
I swat his chest. "Stop. Go congratulate the happy couple. I won't leave."
"Good," he says as he starts to walk away. "But now I owe you a real date." He tosses me a wink before turning on his heel to meet the wedding party beside the lake.
"Shit," Syd stops and glares at her phone, her thumb hovering over the call button. "It's my Dad. I have to get this and make sure he didn't catch wind of Fisher's phone call to the school to get me off campus for finals."
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I assure her as she walks away from the crowd funneling into the tent. "Great," I mumble as I quickly scan the people around me. "Guess I'm having a drink," I say, following behind a couple walking into the tent and passing beneath an entrance where mason jars filled with baby's breath hang from shepherd's hooks.
Grievances aside, the wedding itself was romantic, and this tent is pretty magical for a pop-up structure. Billowing white fabric drapes from the peaked ceiling, secured with twinkling lights that seem to float overhead mimicking the sky at night. Through the tent's open sides, I can see the paddocks stretching toward a line of oak trees. But it's the reclaimed barn wood bar,adorned with trailing ivy, that catches my eye, and I make a beeline for a cocktail. There's only so much ambiance can do for my nerves right now.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asks as soon as I reach the counter.
"What is she drinking?" I point to a woman at the other end of the par with an orange drink that looks delicious.
"That is tonight's signature cocktail—an Aperol spritz."
"I'll have one of those, please," I say, setting my clutch on the bar top.
