Page 1 of Until the End (The Lost Letters #3)

Carson

I should’ve put vodka in this water bottle.

Maybe if I were drunk, I could make it through this day without breaking down.

I sound pathetic—I’m aware. Normally, I don’t resort to alcohol to numb my pain, but today isn’t a normal day.

Today, I have to watch my best friend, the love of my life, marry another man.

Like I said, fucking pathetic.

I’m also a chickenshit.

Before Ginny left to become a major country music star, we drove to the lookout—just the two of us—to watch the stars.

We were lying on a blanket with our pinkies intertwined like we’ve done since we were five, and I almost kissed her.

I was pretty sure she wanted me to, but I wimped out.

She was about to leave our hometown to chase her dreams on this huge adventure.

Maintaining a relationship with me while doing her thing could’ve—would’ve—been disastrous.

We both knew I wasn’t cut out for the big, wide world. I like my small-town life. I love being close to my family and friends. Living in Hollywood—or fuck, even Nashville—isn’t my scene.

If I’d kissed Ginny that day, I’d have only held her back from her dreams.

Now I’m standing in the hallway of some fancy-ass building with a creepy-as-hell gothic vibe, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Our whole family flew out to LA for Ginny’s big day.

We may not all be related by blood, but our parents’ best friends have always been like aunts and uncles to us.

They’re ecstatic to be here, even if we’re all a bit overwhelmed by the display of wealth.

Not a single one of us fits the mold of the high-society attendants surrounding us.

It’s one of the reasons I’ve kept my distance.

My big brother, Noah, told me I needed to school my expressions because they were showcasing every disdainful thought in my head.

This whole wedding is opulence to the extreme.

How Ginny’s survived this life and stayed the same person will remain a mystery to me.

She’s pure sunshine. It radiates from her when she’s around the people she loves.

But we’ve all noticed her light dimming over the last few months.

None of the family is sure if it’s the wedding planning stressing her out or something worse.

We’re hoping once this circus is over, she’ll be able to settle into her new life and be happy.

It’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.

Her happiness means more to me than my own.

If Weasel—sorry, Wesley—is the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with, I’ll support her, even if I don’t see the appeal.

The dude’s as slimy as a snail. He makes these snide remarks about Ginny that I’ve never understood.

Most have something to do with her “little singing career.” Except she’s more famous than he is, and the only reason he gets recognized is because he’s dating Ginny .

He’s the worst kind of user.

But maybe things are different behind closed doors.

I try not to think about that. Jealousy doesn’t suit me. Especially when all I want to do is support my best friend.

“You okay?” Michael comes to stand by my side. He pushes a dark strand of hair off his forehead while his gaze sweeps the hallway, as if he’s looking for someone. He’s not asking me to respond with some one-off comment. His question is genuine.

“Not really.” I shrug. “But I’m hanging in there.

” My best friends know how I feel about Ginny now, but I kept it a secret for a long time.

Growing up, it was easy to push my feelings aside because I still got to spend time with her.

I was just happy to be in her life. When she moved to Nashville and got discovered, hiding them was even easier, since she wasn’t around as much.

It wasn’t until she announced her engagement that the walls around my emotions crumbled into dust. I couldn’t hide it anymore.

Our friends rallied around me like good friends do, but there was nothing they could say to make it better.

Ginny was marrying someone else. Who was I to get in the way of that?

Especially since I never found the nerve to tell her how I feel.

“How about you and I skip the reception to get drunk at one of these hoity-toity bars?” Michael suggests.

I snort. “I’m not spending a fortune on fancy cocktails.”

“Fair. I’ll figure something out.”

“Thanks, man.”

He shrugs. “What are best friends for?”

Gia comes racing around the corner, her face frantic.

She looks beautiful in her light blue bridesmaid dress.

As Ginny’s identical twin sister, they obviously share similar features—their blonde hair and blue eyes are the most prominent—but I’ve always thought they were vastly different.

Even when we were little, I could tell them apart with barely a glance.

Her shoulders drop when she sees me. “Carson. Ginny needs you.”

I straighten. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. She texted me a second ago and asked me to find you. She said it was an emergency.”

“An emergency? And she won’t talk to you?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve tried calling her, but she sends me to voicemail every time. She’s also locked the door to her suite.”

“Fuck.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Okay. Take me to her.”

Gia takes off down the hallway without a backward glance. I follow in her footsteps, trying to figure out what Ginny could possibly need from me that she couldn’t get from Gia. As her twin, you’d think Gia would be better qualified for an emergency.

“Ginny, please open the door. You’re going to be late for the ceremony.” A severe woman is peppering knocks on the suite’s door. Her grey hair is pulled back into a hairstyle so tight, it gives her a facelift. I have a fleeting thought that she looks like the strict headmaster of a private school.

“Excuse me.” While the words are polite, my tone isn’t. I need to get in there.

The woman huffs. “Good luck.” She turns and stomps down the hallway.

I lay my forehead on the wood. “Goose? It’s me.” My childhood nickname for Ginny rolls off my tongue with ease. It’s been a while since I called her that. “Will you open the door?”

“It’s just you?” Her small voice comes from inside the room.

I raise an eyebrow at Gia. She nods and squeezes my arm before going back toward the ceremony hall. “Yeah, it’s just me. ”

When Ginny opens the door, I stifle a gasp. Her face is ravaged by tears. Her cheeks are blotchy, and her eyes are red from crying. I step into the room, closing the door behind me. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

She pulls me into the tightest hug I’ve ever gotten from her.

Then her words stop me short.

“Get me out of here, Carson.”