Page 111 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

Jess picks up the vibes and offers all of us mercy. “I think if we sit down, they’ll probably start serving the food.” To Damian only, she asks, “Are you hungry?”

Damian frowns first, before giving in. “Yup, let’s, uh, circle back in a little bit, yeah?” I don’t know who the fuck he means to ask that question to, but sure. I nod.

I watch them walk away to the two seats at the center of the table, where they whisper in each other’s ears and share a laugh. I want to believe Jess and him deserve this, but it’s a struggle. And then…I find myself thinking,I don’t love her anymore.

I don’t love the way she holds herself. I don’t love the way she looks, or sounds, or smells. I don’t think I can think of one thing I love about her.

I try to recall why I loved her in the first place. I fell in love with her without reason. It was miraculous how it even happened. She had just been there. And she hadn’t stopped until she found someone better. Her insistent presence, in the absence of Amy and Tally, was the only thing that tied her to me.

But Emma, I love with a purpose for who she is and what she does. I love her strength and poise. I love that she’s ultimately the best person I know. The only person I’ve ever let really know me. The real me.

This wasn’t the end I pictured for Emma and me. No, I pictured headstones beside one another after a long, full life of building our family. Adventures with our children and grandkids lining the halls of our home in the form of pictures. And I hadn’t told her any of this.

For as much time as we had together, she probably spent most of our days thinking I didn’t want her, love her, need her. But I do.

“Have you been here before?” she asks me while we sit, waiting for the food to be served.

“Yes,” I say solemnly. This is where it all started. Or, more accurately, where it all ended. When I don’t expand, she stares straight ahead at Jamie, who smiles sympathetically at her. But she doesn’t strike up a conversation with him, or try again with me.

I go back to playing my role, focusing on Jess. Ignoring Em. Wishing time would move a lot fucking faster.

Food is eventually served. And cleared.

Champagne is poured.

A large cake is rolled out.

My sister clinks a glass with a fork, and everyone raises a champagne flute.

I’m not really listening until she says, “BUT!I’d be remiss to not also thank my brother, Alex. For introducing the two of you. So, to Alex, too!”The fuck Brit?

Most of the table turns to look at me when I crack my champagne flute between my fist, sending moisture onto my and Emma’s laps, her silk dress, likely ruined. I stare down at where the wine and broken glass have pooled in her lap, and I want to clean it up, but Em stares at my hand with wide eyes.

“Baby,” she whispers, “you’re bleeding.” She’s never really called me that before. It’s endearing. I want her to say it again. I want to lean over and kiss her, but then she would have broken glass, wine, and blood to clean up, too.

Realizing everyone is still watching me, I say, “Sorry.” Then scoot my chair back and leave without looking back.

I can hear the room devolve into a celebratory cheer as I leave, and that feels very apt.

In the restroom, I clean the wound. It’s shallow enough it doesn’t even need a bandage if I just apply pressure and wait. So I wait, thinking maybe I should just ride this whole thing out here, in the bathroom.

When I stare at the man in the mirror, I hate him. “Fuck,” my raspy voice echoes.

I check the wound and find the bleeding has slowed, and then I stand there a little bit longer, buying some time. I can’t let the night go to waste, though. I have to get back out there and wait for my opening, for the right time.

As I open the men’s restroom door, the women’s door is easing closed. I smell her perfume, I see a glimpse of a silky ivory train, and I know, this is it. A gift from the universe. Divine timing.

With any luck, Emma will come looking for me.

I lean against the wood-paneled wall and wait. The hall is dark but not pitch black, and it’s damn near fucking perfect.

My heartbeat races with anticipation. With dread. The adrenaline runs rampant in my bloodstream as she opens the door to face me. She almost seems scared, and I get a sick thrill out of that.

She was the one who came to me, fucking up my whole world. She’s the reason Emma lost six weeks of her life. More, actually, and I feel like justice is due.

“Excuse me,” she says brusquely as if she could just walk past me.

“It was supposed to be us, Jess.”Lie. It would never be our time.