She could only wish he’d love Jackie just as much. Okay, maybe she wanted to wish that, and she tried really, really hard to believe that’s what she wanted. Only it was exceedingly difficult to do when she had such deep feelings for Brent herself. Selfishly, the last thing she wanted was for Brent to look at Jackie the way he’d looked at her during their ceremony and so many times before that during their wonderful week in Maine.
This was such a messed-up situation.
They passed a donut shop on the main concourse, and Hope stopped walking. It was one of the landmarks she was supposed to look for, and she was to meet Jackie in the nearest ladies’ room, which was supposedly just a few yards away.
Brent frowned and glanced at his watch. “Do you want a coffee or something?”
“No, um… I…” Her gaze darted down the corridor, and she spotted the sign she was looking for. “Just think I need to stop in the restroom.”
“Yeah, of course. Probably a good idea to do before we go through security. The lines could be long.”
“Yes.” She gazed up at him, her heart pounding. He had absolutely no clue that this was goodbye. If she could drag this out and spend five more minutes with him, she would, but that would probably only make things more painful. As it was, they’d gotten a late start in Blue Hill, and finding a free parking space at the airport had been next to impossible. They were already running behind. Jackie would probably already be waiting in the restroom.
“You can go ahead,” he said when he saw her hesitating. “I’ll wait here.”
Her pain must have been obvious on her face, because his dark eyes filled with worry. “Jackie?”
“Brent…” She pressed her lips together when they trembled. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” he said warmly. “You never need to worry about that.”
Heat prickled the backs of her eyes, and then—on impulse—she did it. Hope wrapped her arms around him and kissed him goodbye. It was a deep kiss, too. One filled with passion and longing and the heart-wrenching sorrow of letting go.
“Hey,” he said, teasing her. “Maybe you should take bathroom breaks more often.” He scanned her face when tears leaked from her eyes. “I was only kidding, honey. Hey,” he said when she turned away. “Is everything all right?”
Hope sniffed and wiped back her tears. “It will be. Soon.”
She started to drag her suitcase away, and Brent reached for its handle. “You can leave that with me if you want.”
“No. I…” She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’d better take it.”
“O-kay.” He frowned. “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“I’ll be back in a flash,” she promised, forcing a smile.
Then she spun around and dashed toward the ladies’ room.
…
Hope darted into the restroom. Before she got far enough to find a stall where she could break down in peace, Jackie sprang at her in the small anteroom with sinks and mirrors. “Hopie!” she cried, hugging her so tightly Hope could barely breathe. “You made it!” She released her and frowned at her undoubtedly shattered expression. “But…why are you crying?”
“This. Us.” Hope’s voice shook. “Everything.”
“Okay, fine. But let’s not have a guilt attack now. We don’t have time.” Other women crowded in, trying to use the sinks and hand dryers as they partially blocked the way. Jackie scooted her aside so people could step past them. “Look at you. You’re a wreck. What did those people do to you in Maine?”
“It’s not those people, Jackie.” She yanked out several paper towels from the dispenser and wiped her face. “They’re the Albrights, and each of them have names. Including Brent,” she said on a sob.
Jackie braced her by the shoulders. “We’re going to get through this. It’s almost done.” She considered Hope’s outfit and frowned. “Is that the best you could do for your honeymoon?”
“Jackie, come on.”
“I mean it.” She appeared aghast. “Flats?”
“You better wear them, too, if you know what’s good for you,” Hope insisted. “That’s all Brent’s seen you in all week.”
“Not at the wedding?”
“Not then. No, of course not.”
Jackie peered into the adjoining room and its row of individual stalls. “Let’s get two right next to each other, and we can switch outfits. We can pass them underneath.” Jackie sucked in a gasp, apparently noting that her carry-on was brown and Hope’s was blue. Not only that, she had a checked bag and Hope didn’t. “The suitcases. Do you think Brent will notice?”
“Depends on how observant he is. After all…” She leaned toward Jackie and whispered. “We’re counting on him to think of you as me.”
“I think you’ve got that mixed up,” she said annoyingly. “You’re the one who’s been playing me.”
“Yeah,” Hope muttered morosely. “Until I started playing myself.”
“What?”
“Never mind; doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t risk it,” Jackie said. “Let’s swap suitcases with me taking some of your clothes. You can take my checked bag back to Durham for now.” She heaved an exasperated sigh, evidently agitated that she’d have to downsize her wardrobe. “Did you seriously not wear heels?”
This entire episode was so surreal, Hope felt like she was functioning on autopilot. In a large way, she felt numb. Like she’d gone from experiencing excruciating pain to sensing absolutely nothing. Maybe this was depression, because she suddenly cared about very little except for getting home to her duplex in Durham and crawling under the covers.
If she was lucky, she’d get to stay there for days. Weeks, even. All alone in the total darkness. Moisture warmed her cheeks, and she realized she was crying again. The sooner they got this done, the better. The most horrible part was, it wasn’t only about her upended emotions—it was about what they were doing to Brent. Deceiving him in the most terrible, unforgivable way.
“Come on,” Jackie said, nudging her into the next part of the restroom. “Two stalls just opened up.”
“Fine, okay.” Hope pulled herself together and went through the motions of swapping outfits with Jackie. Fitting into Jackie’s skinny jeans was no small trick. “Don’t you have anything looser?” she asked, calling under the stall. “Something with an elastic waistband?” Brent wasn’t going to see Hope in it, anyway. She just needed something to wear for the trip home. Jackie shoved a pair of black leggings under the stall door.