Page 23

23

HERE COMES THE brIDE

SHILOH

T oday’s the big day. Three incredible, eventful weeks have led up to this moment—Hayes and Aeris’ wedding.

Weddings always make me emotional—the act of promising your heart to another person for the rest of your life, the tear-evoking vows that immortalize your thoughts into words, the union of friends and family coming together to participate in the melding of two souls. Hayes and Aeris love each other so much that they want to start a family and grow old together. That means something, okay?

It’s not just a little slip of paper or some fancy diamond ring. This whole wedding is a physical embodiment of every smile they’ve shared, every kiss, every look, every handhold. This is the beginning of the rest of their lives. And now that I know where I stand with Fulton, I don’t feel that pang of jealousy stewing inside my stomach anymore. I feel… happy . A small feat for some, but what I’d deemed impossible.

A woven tapestry of sun casts through the window, flecks of gold whispering over the sky as the redolence of flora fragrances incoming, honeycomb shafts of light. Aeris picked the perfect dress for her bridesmaids—an elegant, chocolate-brown, full-length ensemble with off-the-shoulder sleeves, a classy leg slit, a cowl neckline, and satin material that’s to die for.

I didn’t go too heavy on the makeup because I know it’s going to get ruined the minute Aeris walks down the aisle. My hair is curled in loose ringlets that drape over my bare shoulders, and I decided to use my brain and opt for platform sandals rather than six-inch heels.

Fulton is in the other room getting ready, and I have no doubt that he’s going to blow the rest of the groomsmen away. I’ve never seen Fulton in a tuxedo. I can barely handle him in his day-to-day clothes, so I’m pretty sure I’m going to be a mess when I see him fitted in a perfectly tailored suit.

This is the best trip I’ve ever been on. I finally solidified things with the man of my dreams, made lifelong friends, got to immerse myself in Cabo’s beautiful wildlife, and even did my fair share of partying.

Wow, that’s something I really never thought I would ever say.

I’m not scared to go back home or go back to work because I have a whole support system behind me. And I have an amazing boyfriend who wants to help me in any way he can while still letting me exercise my independence.

In other words, things are perfect . There’s nothing that could ruin this day. Perfection doesn’t come along often for someone like me, so when it does, it’s my sacred duty to sit back, relax, and do absolutely nothing while it runs its course. Pre-Cabo Shiloh would be shitting her pants right now, sprinting around with an itinerary in threatening tow, running on two hours of sleep and five cups of caffeine—but that’s not me anymore. I’m Post-Cabo Shiloh now. And Post-Cabo Shiloh is cool, calm, and collected.

I glance down at my phone to check the time; we have about ten more minutes before we need to be at the venue. I always knew Aeris had good taste, but a beach wedding? The pictures are going to look beautiful.

I’m about to grab my clutch when my phone on the entryway table begins to vibrate, and my eyes pivot down to catch my mother’s name flashing across the screen. Why would she be calling me right now? I told her I’d be occupied for the day.

Wrangling some loose nerves, I inhale deeply before answering the call, adopting a tone of nonchalance despite the concern churning in my stomach. “Hey, Mom. I’m just about to head to the wedding. Can I call?—”

Panic crackles through the speaker, distorting my mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry to bother you, honey, but there’s an investor here who needs to speak with you in person to sign off on a loan for the business.”

“A loan…but I thought we were denied?”

“We were. So your dad reached out to a friend of your aunt’s, and he wants to invest. But he’s also asking for a percentage of the business. I know it’s a lot to ask of you—and you’d have to get a flight out as soon as possible—but this could save the business. He can’t come down another time to work this out.”

I…I don’t know what to say. Fuck, I don’t know what to think . My parents were the ones who wanted me to go on this vacation, and now they want me to drop everything and come back home? How am I supposed to choose between my blood family and my chosen family? This isn’t fair. I can’t help but feel like I’ve been completely blindsided.

With my heart shivering like fragile wings against a raging tempest, I begin to pace back and forth, not caring for the loud clack of my platforms against the hardwood floor. “Can’t you just talk to him yourself?”

“I wish I could, Shiloh, but since you own part of the shop, we need your signature too. We need this money and fast, or we won’t be able to make payroll.”

No, no, no. This isn’t happening. Ticket prices are going to be ridiculously high for a flight on such short notice. The investor doesn’t have all day to wait around for me. I need to leave now. Shit. SHIT!

Moisture stings the backs of my eyes, and there’s not enough saliva in my mouth to quench my palate and afford me a swallow. A lightheadedness—brought forth by a gross accumulation of guilt—swipes my balance, forcing me to rely on the edge of the table in front of me.

“Mom, I…”

I can’t. I’m sorry?

I’m on my way?

Whatever I choose to do, I’m going to hurt Fulton or my parents in the process.

Please don’t make me choose. I can’t. I don’t want to let anyone down. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Maybe it’s all my fault for agreeing to go on this trip. If I hadn’t left, this wouldn’t even be a dilemma. I would already be there to sign the paperwork, and disappointing my parents wouldn’t even be an option.

The Reapers family have been nothing but kind to me—they’ve shown me that there’s more to life than spreadsheets and soufflés. But my family is…my family . My parents have spent their whole lives raising a hard worker, and I’d be spitting in their faces if I abandoned them in their time of need. It’s not just my parents’ future that I have to think about…it’s mine too.

I take another second to really think about my decision, and then, with a burr in my throat and a cry on the verge of being ripped from my chest, I seal my fate with four simple syllables. “I’m on my way.”

My mother begins to shower me in gratitude, but I hang up abruptly, partly because I can’t stand marinating in what I’ve just done, and partly because I’m halfway to throwing up my breakfast. I need to get my stuff and get out. My things are mostly packed since we leave tomorrow, so that’s one less thing to do.

I move toward the bedroom on autopilot, and I begin gathering my belongings as the tears fester. I want to sob and break down in Fulton’s arms; I want to cling to him for strength; I want to beg him for help, but there’s no time, and I’ve expended the grace that’s been shown to me.

“Hey, Sunshine, does this look okay? Rolled cuffs or?—”

One look at me and Fulton’s words die a swift death.

I don’t look at him—I can’t, or I’ll flood the room with tears. All I do is zip up my backpack and grab my carry-on in complete silence, the periodic clack of my sandals entirely discomforting.

“Shiloh, what’s going on?” Fulton asks quietly.

This isn’t you, Shiloh. You don’t abandon your friends. Fulton’s done so much for you, and this is how you repay him? He took you on a surprise date, he held you when you cried, he’s been there every time you’ve needed him. And now, when he needs you, you just vanish?

And what about Aeris? Aeris didn’t have to make you a bridesmaid, but she did, because she truly, from the bottom of her heart, loves you. She took you under her wing, invited you to hang out with her friends, included you in the most important day of her life, and you don’t even have the guts to say goodbye. You should be ashamed of yourself. You took advantage of these kind people.

You can never just let work go, can you? It’s going to control your life. You’re letting it control your life. And the worst part is, you’re still choosing to betray your friends even after knowing the consequences. You’re going to lose them all. Fulton’s never going to forgive you for this. You know that, right?

“I’m sorry, Fulton. I have to go,” I say, evading the pain-soaked stare I know is waiting for me, my hand clamped around the suitcase handle despite the burn of doubt swirling through my veins.

Vertigo nips at my brainstem, spinning the ground that feels as flimsy as paper maché underneath my feet, one wrong move foreshadowing a plummet through thousands of deposited layers.

I don’t need to look at Fulton’s face to pick up on the betrayal tempering his tone. “Shiloh, what’s going on?” he repeats.

His voice has yet to fracture from the ten-ton weight of grief, and for that, I envy him. When he reaches out to brush my arm, I rip it away like he just seared my flesh with a fireplace poker.

“My parents are expecting me. I have to go,” I repeat, the half-spoken truth abrading my sandpaper throat. Eyes wrenched shut, I pitch forward toward the door, but it’s not my lack of eyesight that forbids me from making any progress.

Fulton’s hands clench my arms entreatingly, forcing me to bear witness to the destruction I’m leaving behind in my wake—a failed relationship and broken trust, strong in theory but as delicate as spun glass.

When I meet his gaze, a current of hurt drifts through the brown of his eyes, and his bottom lip quivers. “What are you talking about? We have to get to the wedding. It’s going to start soon.”

Agony barrels onto the scene, flattening the reinforced defenses that have been constructed to keep my poor, impressionable heart from suffering another crack. Not by Fulton’s hands, but by my own. Instead of talking this through like a mature, grown adult, I made a decision that will affect us both, with little consideration for Fulton’s feelings.

“You have to go without me.”

There’s a fountain of tears waiting to spring eternal, and once I stop fighting them, I’ll feel their wrath well into my two-hour flight back home.

“Sunshine, please…just…tell me what’s going on. We can figure this out. We can figure anything out,” he begs in an octave that I’ve never heard, his grip deteriorating into one of desperation—much like that of a mad man who’s gambled away his heart and refuses to let it go.

“Not this time,” I sob, shrinking in on myself, my nostrils hissing with a buildup of congestion. My eyes feel like they’re on fire. Even when I blink and clear the smoke, they ache, pleading for the moisture that I withhold.

Fulton sinks to his knees before me, his own eyes rheumy. His expression of confusion is arguably worse than one of vitriol, and it makes something evil tug at my belly. There’s a special place in hell for someone who strings people along like I have.

“Shiloh…” My name is dressed in his dulcet voice, but instead of soothing me, it welts my already-hemorrhaging heart, lashing against a bloody membrane.

“There’s an investor waiting for me in Riverside. I have to be there for legal reasons. I can save my family’s business if I fly home right away.”

“It’s Hayes and Aeris’ wedding day. We…we promised to be there for them. We’re in the wedding.”

“I know, but this is the miracle I’ve been waiting for, Fulton. Don’t you see how important this is?”

A flip in him switches. Instead of skirting the realm of disbelief, anger overthrows the initial shock, now splashing his face in shades of crimson. When he stands up, he crowds my space with his mountainous body.

“And we aren’t?”

“That’s not what I meant,” I argue, shelving the sorrow long enough to wipe the teardrops clinging to my lashes.

“I should’ve known this would happen. I should’ve known that when it came down to me or work, you would always choose work. Even after I offered to help. Even after I held you during all those times you cried to me about wanting to escape—how you felt like a prisoner in your own life. Did any of that mean anything to you?” he snaps.

“Of course it did. I didn’t want to have to choose! You’re acting like I planned for this to happen. My mom sprung this on me five minutes ago, and there’s nothing they can do without me there. I’m a voting partner. I have to be there. I’m just trying to do what’s best for my family!” I scream, finally letting salt and water carve a circuit through my makeup, mascara running through separating foundation.

Fulton turns away to collect his anguish, one arm knocking against his temple like he doesn’t know what to do with it, and then he just… explodes .

“What happened to always being there for me?”

The sound from his throat is guttural, visceral, akin to the howling one might hear from a grieving mother who just lost her baby.

I did promise to always be there for him during our first date, and I’m not a person who goes back on their promises. At least, I thought I wasn’t.

I can’t describe the pain in his eyes, nor could I ever understand it. It’s years of being chosen second, of being overlooked, of being let down by the people who were always supposed to be there for him. Years of regret for being the man his father never was, only to realize that those with bigger hearts sustain the worst injuries.

Years of wishing he was enough to make someone stay .

I thought we had that in common.

“I need to be there for my parents too.”

“Well, that’s the problem with promising things to too many people: there’s always going to be someone who winds up unhappy. You’re never going to put yourself first, are you? ”

A frown maims my cracked lips. “Ful?—”

“This can’t be what you want. Please don’t leave me, Sunshine. Please. ”

Leave me . Not just leave. That is what I’m doing, isn’t it? Indirectly. I’m leaving him, after I promised that I wouldn’t. This isn’t about Hayes and Aeris’ wedding. This is about us. This is about the future of our relationship.

What if there’re other investors? Are you willing to risk your relationship for an opportunity that could come around again? Either way, you’re the villain. You either leave your parents high and dry, or you leave the love of your life stranded, and something tells me that you’re going to disappoint one of them no matter what.

I don’t even try to suppress my wails anymore. My whole body undergoes a wide-reaching heat that chars me from the inside out, and my now-pale hands shake uncontrollably like my blood sugar’s taken an unforeseen drop.

Fulton doesn’t console me like he usually does, which only exacerbates the hopelessness prying apart my rib cage as if it’s nothing but a wishbone to be licked clean by insatiable, forked tongues.

I nearly fall to the ground, but the berth of my suitcase keeps me upright. “I’m so sorry, Fulton. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” I blubber.

You’re a bad person, Shiloh. You don’t deserve Fulton. You refuse to balance work and life, and it’s not even because of extenuating circumstances. Multiple people have offered to help you, and you refuse. Every. Single. Time. You can’t seriously be hurt by this outcome. You did this to yourself . And you’ll keep doing it until you die.

Hackles lowered, it’s like all the emotion has been drained from Fulton’s spirit, the light from his eyes fading in a matter of seconds. Light that I’ve grown to love, to look for, to hang on to.

“So that’s it then? You’re just…leaving? After everything we’ve been through? ”

“You know I can’t stay,” I whisper, the looming threat of distance tearing moth-eaten holes in the memories I’ve made with him.

He can’t even look me in the eyes. All he does is oblige me and move aside. “I don’t know you anymore, Shiloh. The girl I fell in love with is gone, and I don’t think there was anything I could’ve done to keep her here.”

“I told you I didn’t have a lot to give, and you promised me that was okay. But it’s clearly not enough.”

And as my heart flickers with the last, dwindling bit of life in the hearth of my ribs, I haul myself out the door, tailed by my suitcase instead of the man I wish was chasing after me.