Boone waved him off. “No, it’s fi—” He caught himself. “It’s all right. I got this.”
Peter nodded. “Just lock up when you leave.”
“Sure.”
He patted Boone’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”
Except…it wouldn’t be okay.
Vivien’s dress was ruined. She’d told him she couldn’t marry him without that stupid dress.
And then, somehow, everything had gone sideways.
He grabbed the top box off one of the dusty stacks and eased the lid off. Peter’s words hung in the damp air. And he felt like maybe Peter had left the donkey right there in the basement.
CHAPTER 9
WEDNESDAY, 2:50 P.M.
The pulse in Vivien’s ears blasted like ten thousand drums.
What had happened?
Maybe who I am isn’t really enough.
Boone’s voice just kept echoing in her head.
It sure seems true.
And in that moment, she’d said nothing. Nothing.
Because all she could think was…He didn’t want to marry her.
And then he’d walked away, and the air had been sucked out of her lungs.
Gone was the comforting low timbre of his voice and the joy that made her heart sing. His absence, instead, carved out a large empty space in her chest.
Don’t ever give away your whole heart. You’ve got to protect yourself.
Well, that had pretty much backfired on her.
She pushed her way out the door of Kate’s, locking it behind her. A white rental car sat at the curb, her mom wildly waving her over.
Vivien lifted her hand to give a hello, though it was probably lackluster at best.
After kicking the snow off her boots, she sank into the front passenger seat.
“Look at that—perfect timing!” Mom exclaimed. Her chestnut hair was tucked into a beanie, and she wore a thick, blue sweater under her coat. “I texted Boone because you didn’t answer. He sent a message that you needed a pickup. I’m going to wait to hug you, though, because man, it’s cold here! You should have come to Arizona to get married.” Her blue eyes beamed. “It’s a good thing I still own thermals—and they fit.”
“Mm.” Vivien acknowledged her with a grunt, buckled her seat belt, and looked out the window.
“Nice to see you too. Where’s all the pomp and circumstance? Aren’t you excited?” She reached out and squeezed Vivien’s arm. Paused. “What’s wrong? You look like someone misspelled your name in the paper.”
Their old joke fell flat.
Vivien swallowed. Opened her mouth to speak. No words. Tears splashed down her cheeks with relentless force until a sob broke out.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mom grabbed a packet of tissues from her purse and held it out to Vivien. “Are you stressed about the wedding? It’s going to be perfect. This is totally normal. Brides are always on edge.”
Vivien pulled one, two, three tissues from the packet. “I don’t know what I was thinking—I just didn’t want to end up like you and Dad. I thought if I had the perfect wedding, then we’d have the perfect marriage. We’d be together. We’d stay together. And now I’ve still managed to make a mess of it.” The dam broke and her filter was clearly off. “I told him maybe we should wait, and he said—he said maybe we shouldn’t…marry at all.” Her voice broke in a wrenched cry.
“Whoa—I’m sure he didn’t mean that. And you know there aren’t perfect anythings. How could you possibly make a mess?”
Vivien blew her nose. Sniffed. “Well, I figured we at least needed to start out as near perfect as possible. I mean, it’s only downhill from there, right? I heard you…after Dad left. I heard you one night begging him to tell you what you’d done wrong.”
“Sweetheart, you never should have heard that.” Her mom dropped her hands to her lap, curling them together. “I was hurt…I was looking to make sense of his betrayal. I had told myself that if I’d been a better wife, he wouldn’t have strayed.” She reached out, wrapped her warm hands around Vivien’s. “But whatever things were imperfect between your dad and me, his choices in how he behaved were his own responsibility. It took me a lot of years and counseling to understand that.”
“But how do I protect myself? How do I protect our marriage?”
“Communicate. Pray. Don’t allow anger and bitterness to fester in your hearts.” She reached out and smoothed a lock of Vivien’s hair from her face. “Each day, the two of you will have to wake up and make an active choice to love and honor each other.”
“I’m afraid if I’m not perfect and if Boone’s not totally devoted to me, that someday he’ll leave me. And you warned me—I should have listened.”
“Warned you about what?”
Vivien blew her nose, not even caring that it honked louder than a Canada goose. “You said not to ever give away my whole heart. That I needed to protect myself.”
Her mom recoiled. “When did I say that?”
“After Jacob Platt dumped me for Lillian Reinke.”
“For crying out loud, you were sixteen—tell me you haven’t been hauling around jaded, bad parenting advice from me all these years.”
“You meant it. I know you meant it—it makes complete sense. I saw how Dad hurt you—hurt us.”
“I didn’t want to see my girl hurt by some boy who wasn’t even good enough for you.” Mom tucked a lock of hair behind Vivien’s ear. “And I was still deeply wounded.” She shook her head, a raw edge to her voice. “I had no business telling you that.”
“But you did, and I’ve lived by that.”
Mom bowed her head, wiped her eyes. “Oh, Vivie. I’ve hurt you with terrible advice.”
Vivien let silence fill the space between them. “I’m still afraid.”
Her mom nodded. “It’s scary. Ultimately, the only person whose choices you can control is you.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” Vivien stared at her to-do list. Twelve items, even after Ree had taken six. And those were just on today’s list.
Number one, her dress, remained unchecked. Not to mention the bridesmaids’ gifts, since her order was stranded in Chicago. Something old, something blue.
Not that any of it mattered now.
“I’m so sorry if I messed things up between you and Boone,” her mother said quietly.
Vivien reached over and gave her mom a half hug. Great. Now she’d hurt her mom too. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m fine.” But truthfully, she wasn’t sure she could act her way out of this one.
The idea of not marrying Boone?
No. The role of her lifetime was meant to be Mrs. Boone Buckam.
“But it isn’t. Sweetheart, it is scary to give someone your whole heart and give them the power to decimate you.”
“Wow, Mom. Again, not helpful.” She pulled out another tissue and blew her nose. “I thought you were trying to be a better parent here.”
Her mom snatched a tissue and wiped her own nose. “Hear me out. I’ve learned a lot over the past few years about the beauty of marriage—the vulnerability and trust in a good marriage. That’s what marriage is meant to be. Work. Compromise. Repentance. Forgiveness.”