Page 38 of Take Me (Cherry Blossom Lake #5)

Mason

“ H e’s fine.”

Annabelle unhooks her stethoscope, looping it over her neck. Scratching my dog’s fuzzy ears, she repeats the diagnosis for his benefit. “Aren’t you fine, good boy? Such a strong, healthy, fuzzy-fit pup?—”

“You’re positive.” I study the lethargic swish of his tail. “He just seems…down.”

“Has anything changed in his world lately?” She sounds like she’s humoring me. “Maybe you’ve been home less with all the wedding stuff going on?”

I’ve actually been home more than ever, since I’ve taken the last few days off work. “Erika,” I mumble. “She’s —uh—moved out.”

“Oh God, Mason.” Annabelle looks stricken. “It’s not because of me, is it?”

Dammit, I shouldn’t have said that. I try to recall what Erika wrote in her letter. Something about playing it off like we’re trying to work through a rocky patch.

But I’m honestly not a great actor. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I think it’s a lot of things.”

Annabelle squeezes her eyes shut, fingers still stroking my dog. “I feel like such an asshole. Is there anything at all I can do?” She opens her eyes again. “I’ll drive over to her place tonight and swear on my life that you and I never?—”

“It’s okay.” That might make everything worse. “It’s my fault, too. I didn’t tell her how much she means to me until it was too late.”

“Really?” She cocks her head. “I mean, she must have had some idea, if you’ve been living together. It’s kinda obvious, seeing you two together, how much you care about each other.”

“I guess.” I’m treading on thin ice, not willing to betray secrets I’ve held with Erika.

Make that Erika and Lucy. I told my twin everything after last night’s family dinner, including how the whole thing imploded.

She gripped the lapels of my jacket on her front porch as we said our goodbyes. “Don’t let Erika get away, Mason. She’s scared and hurt and hiding.”

“Okay, I get it.” I sometimes forget that Erika’s tough-girl act masks tender feelings. “I’m giving her space to?—”

“To forget you’re the love of her life?” She shook me a little, making my head snap back. “Good plan, dummy.”

I stared at my unhinged twin. “You sure the wedding stress isn’t getting to you just a little?”

“You’re not stressed enough , Mason. This is serious.”

“I can see that from your death grip on perfectly innocent Gore-Tex.”

My sister did not look appeased. “If you don’t fix things with her, so help me God, I’ll?—”

“Relax, Bridezilla.” I pried her claws off my raincoat. “I’m working on a plan.”

“Whatever it is, count me in. Anything at all, if it means winning Erika back.”

“Shouldn’t you be focused on your wedding right now?”

She made a dismissive sound. “Ever heard of transference?”

“Eighties band, right?” I ducked back before she could grab me again.

“Fixing your life takes the focus off my stress around wedding plans. It’s therapeutic.”

“You know, we really should ask Brooke about family discounts on therapy.”

She ignored me and skewered my brain with an intense stare. “Please get her back, Mace. Do it for me.”

“Okay.” I couldn’t believe how passionate she seemed. “I’ll think of something.”

I’m still thinking now, scant hours before I’ll waltz down the aisle with Erika. Leave it to Lucy and Mom to pair us up for the procession. I guess it’s better than seeing my girl on the arm of one of Peter’s law school groomsmen.

She’s not your girl.

“Mason?”

I shake myself back to the clinic. To Annabelle’s look of concern. “Yeah?”

“You kinda spaced out there for a minute.”

“Sorry.”

My ex looks concerned. “You’re sure I can’t do anything to help with Erika? I’m serious about sending Lucy my regards and skipping the wedding so Erika won’t feel?—”

“No.” That’ll just make it weirder. “You’re Lucy’s friend. You should be there.”

Annabelle nibbles her lip. “I’ll sit near the back. I’m going with Hayley, and she’s always late anyway.”

Interesting. “Neil’s not your date?”

“No.” She gives me a halfhearted shrug. “I told him I couldn’t marry him. We agreed to stay friends, but who am I kidding? He already reenlisted.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Her expression turns sheepish. “Guess we both rushed into things a little.”

“At least you realized it before it was too late.”

“I suppose.” She keeps petting my dog as her gaze drifts out the window. “I feel silly, in hindsight. I’m way too old to get caught up in infatuation. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Happens to the best of us.” It takes a lot to admit that what I felt for Annabelle was never love. Infatuation, sure, with maybe a strong mix of lust and delusion.

But being with Erika showed me what real love is supposed to feel like.

“I’m taking a little time to myself,” Annabelle tells me. “I’m going to a week-long veterinary conference over in Joyner. I also signed up for this yoga retreat at Ponderosa Resort.”

“I’ve heard it’s nice there.”

“I could use the break. A chance to reconnect with myself, you know?”

“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Good luck. You deserve wonderful things, Annabelle. I hope you get them.”

“Thanks.” Her hand stills in Scrumpy’s soft fur. “Can I give you some unsolicited advice?”

“Sure.” I nod to my dog. “Why do I get the feeling it isn’t about not giving him table scraps?”

She doesn’t laugh, which sobers me up in a hurry.

“Don’t let Erika get away.” She’s the second person to say it tonight, and my heart skips a beat.

Not for the reasons it used to when Annabelle looked in my eyes.

“I’ve wondered sometimes,” she continues, “how things would have been different if you’d put up a fight when we split.

If you’d stopped kidding around for one minute and told me you loved me too much to let me go. ”

The eye contact grows heavy, and I order myself not to break it. But I can’t leave any lingering doubt how I feel.

“I didn’t,” I murmur, hating how cruel it sounds. “I’m so sorry, but I didn’t feel that way.”

“I know,” she says softly. “Just like I know you love Erika more than you ever loved me.”

“I’m sorry.” I’m not, though. I know, without a doubt, that I don’t belong with Annabelle. Somebody does, but not me. “I had a great time while we lasted.”

“So did I. I mean it, Mason. I learned a lot from you. You’re a great guy and a good friend.”

“Thanks.”

“So I’m telling you now, as a friend—fight for her.”

Scrumpy stands up and barks sharply. Maybe because we’ve stopped petting him, but I’m not sure that’s it. His posture is stiff, ears pricked in soft points, as he looks at my face and gives another tight yip.

“Okay, okay.” I pet him again, but he doesn’t calm down. “You guys are ganging up on me.”

“That’s gotta tell you something, right?”

“Right.”

Scrumpy barks one more time, then sits his ass down and relaxes. His tail swishes softly as he licks the back of my hand.

“Good boy,” says Annabelle, and I smile.

“Thank you,” I tell her. “I’m trying to be.”

The officiant smiles at my sister and Peter. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” She tips her head toward my new brother-in-law, making Peter stand up a bit straighter. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Lucy lunges, dropping her bouquet on the ground at her feet as she pulls Peter in for a lip lock. He handles the kiss with a bit more finesse, cupping the back of her head as his other hand rests at the small of her back.

The congregation applauds, and Erika bends down to grab the bouquet. A Taylor Swift tune blares through the sound system, and Harper breaks into a grin. The recessional song is her doing, and she smiles as we file out in pairs to the upbeat lyrics of “Paper Rings.”

I link arms with Erika, taken aback by how stunning she is. “You look great,” I murmur as we start down the aisle.

“Thanks. So do you.”

The sight of her in shimmery purple steals my breath. She’s clutching two bouquets and smiling like it’s her job. I guess it kind of is, though I can’t help noticing how stiff she seems.

When she looks up at me, my breath stalls. “That was nice.”

“It was.” I can’t resist being a smartass. “Despite the lack of mud or underpants. ”

She laughs, but it’s almost as tense as her smile. There’s shimmery stuff on her eyelids, and her hair has tiny flowers laced through it. She’s her but not her, and also so her that my chest aches.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper.

She glances around like someone might hear, but we’re already out in the foyer. The buzz of the crowd masks our words, but she keeps her voice low, just in case. “I’ve missed you, too.”

From the moment she got here at noon, we’ve fulfilled all our duties like everything’s fine.

But the elephant in the room is so huge and smelly, we can’t tiptoe around it much longer.

I steer us toward the ballroom, hoping to steal a few minutes before the rest of the crowd pours in.

She’s walking fast, so maybe she has the same plan.

An urge to clear the air before the reception.

“This way, right?”

“Yeah.” I nod to a small calligraphy sign pointing down a long hallway. “Probably should have put that somewhere more prominent.”

“Your handiwork, I presume?”

“Did the flawless quality give me away?”

“No, it was the J that looks like a crooked penis.”

We almost sound normal, but I hear tension in her voice. In a way, I’m glad this place is so huge. It gives me a chance to soothe my own nerves.

I need the next few minutes to go well.

Drawing a calming breath, I turn down the next hallway.

This event center is massive, hugging the southwest shore of the lake.

It’s a window-filled, waterfront space designed by my uncle—back when he planned to turn the whole freakin’ lake into a rich person’s playground.

Peter bought it last year, transforming the building into a community center, keeping rates low so locals can host family reunions and weddings.

Weddings like this one, maybe more for our family. We’re approaching the ballroom, so I need to act quickly. “I know this isn’t the best time to talk, but?—”