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In my heart I did too, but I didn’t think he’d show up on his dirt bike.
A few things happen in a matter of seconds. Roan, Tiller, and I think Camden, ride through the hydrangea gardens doing wheelies. Roan has flowers hanging out of his helmet, no doubt a product of the spill he took trying to land off the roof. Tiller rides off a five-foot retaining wall and lands right in the middle of my wedding cake, and Camden, he crashes into the gift table and pins himself under the bike but screams, “We object!” and throws his goggles up in the air.
That’s followed by screams of the guests scattering, security running toward Tiller who is now on his bike again and fucking with them by letting them get close to him, and then wheeling away.
Roan comes to a stop in front of us, rips off his goggles and smiles, eyes raking over me and my dress. My stomach twists with anxiety, my heart pumping faster and faster. His body is completely rigid, his eyes crazed.
A deep inhale expands his chest and then “You can’t marry him.”
His words, his demand, it’s a maddening, throat-clenching, eye-burning, soul-stealing reality check. I couldn’t. I already knew that.
Because of this man, the one straddling a two-hundred-pound bike with flowers embedded in the spokes of his tires. The silence around me is deafening.
Agustin stares at him, then me, squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin. “What’s going on?” His mouth twists, leering down at me. “What’s he doing here? Why can’t you marry me?”
I can’t actually speak. When I said I was hoping he’d react when I gave him the invitation, I meant telling me not to marry Agustin. Not destroying the wedding with his brother and the thirteen-year-old neighbor boy.
Roan hangs his goggles on his handlebars and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s dressed in all black. Like he’s about to hold up a bank. Or crash a wedding. He leans in and motions to me with a nod. “Look at her face, man. She’ll never look at you that way.” Roan’s eyes are cold as stone, but the smirk plays and pushes Agustin further. “I own that look.”
I turn toward Roan at the sound of his voice, his harsh words, a rumble of whispers emitting from the crowd behind us.
Beside me, Agustin breathes out through his nose, his jaw tensing when he slides his eyes back to mine. He lifts his hand and scratches the side of his head, raising his eyebrows, waiting for me to say something.
I take a breath and let it out slowly. I try, I do, but no words come out. I can barely keep from bursting into tears when I see my parents, both with wide eyes staring at us like they can’t believe this happened. And then my dad starts laughing. Actually laughing along with Ricky, who’s seated behind him.
Am I dreaming? Is this really happening?
Agustin steps toward me, his hand on my upper arm. It’s not hard, or in anger, but it’s tense. His eyes are black stones, his jaw granite defiance. “Why the fuck is he here?” he grits, his words whispered to me.
I swallow, tears stinging. My pulse quickens, pounding blood into my cheeks. I place my hand over my heart. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him talk like this, but I can’t blame him. This is humiliating. “I….” I shift my eyes to Roan’s. The expression on his face is one I’ve never seen before. On anyone. He’s broken… at the end; it’s his last fight to give and he’s waiting on my next set of words.
For me to admit my feelings.
To call it off.
Roan leans in, his arms resting on his handlebars. “Tell him,” he says desperately, like it’s the last time he’s going to ask, watching my face, and exposing my secrets to the ones around me. On the outside, Roan’s confident, knows his effect on me, but his voice, the tone, it says otherwise. It gives away his nervousness. He doesn’t know what my reaction to this will be.
All’s fair in love and war.
I look at Agustin, his stance impatient.
I look at Roan, his eyes pleading. His attention is captured by the scene unfolding behind me. He doesn’t get a chance to hear my answer because he’s detained by security two seconds later. Both him and Tiller.
My dad follows them, shaking his head, but I can see the amusement playing at his lips. “You couldn’t object before I paid for all this?” he asks Roan.
Roan snorts and shrugs one shoulder, the security guard next to him keeping a tight hold on his hands locked behind his back. “I’ll pay ya back.”
Camden follows them and yells, “I told you I had to be home by three! I said it like four times.”
Willa, who’s following closely with Ricky, slaps the back of Roan’s head. “I can’t believe you guys involved a child.”
“This was not my idea,” Tiller defends, like it’s going to make a difference. “I thought we were going for a Saturday ride.” Lifting his arm, he licks his hand and then his forearm that’s covered in frosting from my four-tier cake he destroyed. “It’s chocolate.”
Roan rolls his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to land on the goddamn cake, dumbass.”
My mom rushes to my side, her eyes wide with worry. “What the heck was that about?”
I shrug as she hands me a tissue. My breath is shaky as I exhale. I know exactly what it was about, but I don’t want to admit it. “I can’t believe he just did that.”