It was just as painful the rest of the conversation, though neither of us said much more. We agreed to talk again when I was back home, and then we ended the call, and I felt just as bad as I predicted I would.
No, I felt worse.
I wanted to run, but if I went for a run, I’d have to shower. As it was, I still smelled like Tyler, and I didn’t want to wash him off yet. I was still marked by him, still covered in the remnants of his touch, his taste, his entire being.
For one last night, I let myself wrap all of me up in all of him, slipping under the sheets with tears still staining my cheeks and my heart so heavy in my chest, I thought I’d never walk again.
Thankfully, sleep pulled me under quickly, a merciful release.
Though my dreams weren’t so kind.
“There she is.”
Aunt Laura dropped her beach bag in the sand next to my chair, opening her arms wide.
There was barely a cloud in the sky, and it was one of those warm summer days on the Cape that had you sweating before noon. Everything was so bright — the sun, the sand, the reflection off the water, all the highlighter-colored swimsuits dotting the shoreline, the bright beach towels and chairs.
Everything inside me was dark and shadowed, damp and cold, but on that warm stretch of beach the day before Morgan’s wedding, I could almost forget about the empty cave inside my soul.
Almost.
My aunt was a sight for sore eyes, and after the last forty-eight hours I’d had, it was all I could do not to cry when I leapt out of my chair and hurled myself at her, letting her wrap me up tight.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said on a chuckle, pulling back to hold my arms in her hands. “See what happens when you come to New England and don’t make enough time for your poor aunt?”
“Hey, it’s you who’s been the busy one with all your clients. Not my fault you have the most popular salon in the county.”
“Says the one who’s been wrapped up in wedding planning.”
“Can we just agree that we both suck and get to the part where we’re drinking fruity drinks and catching up on the beach?”
Aunt Laura smiled at that, sliding her oversized reflective sunglasses down her nose enough to waggle her brows at me from under her floppy hat. “Now that’s a plan I can get behind.”
I smiled, helping her get settled in the chair to the left of mine.
The chair to the right of mine was where Morgan was set up, and Azra was right beside her. I’d spent most of the morning listening to them talk about Azra’s childhood, which was annoyingly fascinating, since she’d fled from Turkey with her parents when she was just four years old. Presently, however, Morgan was somewhere talking to one of the many wedding guests gathered on the beach, and Azra was with Mrs. Wagner at the beach bar, giving me a much-needed break.
I’d learned a lot about Azra in the past two days.
She was the center of attention the day she showed up unexpectedly, and the universe still seemed to revolve around her the entire next day, too. I wanted to keep my distance from her, but it seemed everything Morgan wanted me to help with for the wedding, Azra was involved, too.
Because of our close proximity, I’d listened as she told riveting stories of her modeling gigs, her travels abroad, the obscene amount of free products she received all the time. “You should totally come visit sometime and shop my closet!” she’d offered me. “We’re practically the same size, and you’re so gorgeous. I can already picture a hundred dresses and bags and shoes I have that would look amazing on you.”
I wanted to hate her. I wanted to be annoyed by her voice, by her perfect, long, dark hair, by her slender frame and long, lean legs. I wished she was a bitch. I wished she would glare at me and claim Tyler whenever I came near, wrapping her arms around him and planting a kiss on him to threaten me away.
But she didn’t.
In fact, she was spending most of her time with Morgan, which told me more about her than anything else could have. She cared about Morgan like she was already family. She wanted to make this weekend about her — as it should be.
If anything, she was doing a better job than I was, and I wondered if Morgan wished it was Azra standing behind her as maid of honor.
What was worse, I knew in my gut that she didn’t feel the need to claim Tyler when he was in the same room as me, to thread her arm through his or kiss him passionately or brag about their travels together.
Because she wasn’t threatened by me.
She wasn’t threatened by anyone.
And while I had spent the last two days trying to hate Azra and finding it impossible, Tyler seemed to be doing everything he could to avoid me.
It was what I’d asked for. It was what the last words I’d exchanged with him had made perfectly clear. The one night we shared would be all we’d ever had, and there was nothing left to say.
So why did it break my heart that he was leaving me alone, just like I’d asked?
Gone were the longing looks, the passing touches, the jokes or memories of our childhood days.
He might as well have been a stranger to me, another guest of the wedding who I’d yet to formally meet.
“Oh, man, do I need this,” Aunt Laura said once she was settled in her chair. She stretched out her toes where they rested in the sand, leaning back with a wide smile on her face. And when one of the servers hired for the welcome party delivered her a piña colada with a little orange umbrella in it, she lit up like the Fourth of July.
I smiled, and it was the first real smile I’d felt stretch my lips in days. “I’m really glad you’re here,” I told her, and I meant every word. I didn’t realize how lonely I had been in a house full of people, how isolated I’d felt — not until she held me in her arms.
“Me, too, Jazzy Girl.” She made an exaggerated ahhh noise after her first sip of her drink, and then she frowned. “Where’s Jacob?”
I was thankful for the aviators covering my eyes when she asked that question, because I knew they’d have given me away. Thankfully, I didn’t have time to answer before Morgan bounded over and wrapped Aunt Laura in a giant hug.
“You made it!”
“The party has arrived,” my aunt said, thrusting her drink into the air before taking a big sip.
“Does that mean you’ll take shots with me later?”
Aunt Laura clicked her tongue. “You’ve got a wedding tomorrow, little girl. I’m not going to be the one responsible for dark bags under your eyes after a day of binge drinking.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Morgan teased, but then she opened the lid of her customized white Thermos that said bride in delicate script on the side, showing the contents to both me and my aunt. “Just water for me today,” she whispered, holding her finger to her lips once she’d replaced the lid.
Aunt Laura cheersed her, and then Morgan reached down for my hand. “Walk with me? I have some things to go over for tomorrow.”
It was a normal request, seeing as how it was the day before her wedding and I was the maid of honor. But the way she said it, the way her lips twisted to the side as she stretched out her hand for mine had my stomach dropping.
“Sure,” I answered, taking her hand to help me up. I assured Aunt Laura I’d be back, and she arched a brow, sipping her piña colada in a way that told me I wasn’t going to get away without answering the question she’d asked me before Morgan slid in to save me.