The small room outfitted specifically for brides to do last minute primping is crowded with me, mom, Ellie, our cousin Raven, our other cousin Tanya and best friend growing up, Liza. The nervous energy in this space is nearly enough to make my mask slip. I peek out the door to see if we are almost set to practice the walking bit. “Reverend James is still talking to dad and Doug,” I announce as I turn back to the room. They’re all looking at me a little nervously.
“Uh… do I have food in my teeth or something?” I laugh, my eyes dart between all of them.
“Go on,” our mom says quietly, motioning her chin my direction. Ellie nods and swallows roughly, her neck working with effort. It instantly reminds me of being a kid in trouble.
“Rae, um… I was meaning… to tell you… I mean… I should have already but… I mean you’re you and I’m me and… it’s hard and you’re scary sometimes,” she pouts like she did when we were kids. “It’s hot in here,” she fans her face and cracks the lid on a bottle of water, guzzling half of it down. I fold my arms and narrow my eyes.
“Spill it.” She groans loudly and turns away from me. “Ellie,” I warn.
“Sy is Doug’s best man,” she blurts out. Sy. The Sy. My Sy. How did I miss this little detail?
You didn’t think to ask, you selfish bitch, Self-Loathing explains coolly, and she’s not wrong. The witch.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come if you knew. I’m rotten, I know but… Doug told me he would have wanted Teddy to be his best man but since he can’t obviously, he said Sy was his second choice. Sy has done a lot for Doug the last few years and all. You know how close Chick and Sy and Doug and Kyle all were growing up,” she rattles on and I want very badly to shake the shit out of her but the professional shit show handler in me calls that part of myself to heel like a petulant puppy.
I can handle this one of two ways. I could come unglued on my sister and ruin this moment by acting like a bitter, immature girl-woman which would immediately give away how hung up on the past I actually am or I can be the buttoned up professional badass that I am particularly when I am stuck with someone whom I consider the enemy. Sylas Broussard is definitely the enemy.
“Yes,” I say evenly, nodding my head measuredly. “You should have told me weeks ago because I would have put you out of your obvious misery by letting you know that Sylas Broussard is just a guy from ages ago. No bad blood. No ill will. We’re all adults here and this is your wedding. Nothing could ruin how happy I am for you,” I smile my best smile—the one I use for press kit headshots and look at the women in front of me one by one, selling my lie with a cool demeanor. My heart is thrashing around in my chest like a trophy tuna on a boat deck but they don’t need to know that.
I have to be on Sylas’ arm two days in a row. Fuck.
I mentally attempt to confer with my inner circle for input but apparently they’re all collecting their thoughts. “Anything else I need to know?” I take a pointed look at Momma. She puts up a finger and steps forward to say something but she’s cut off by the reverend.
“Ladies, we’re ready,” the reverend’s muffled voice calls from outside the door. Momma snaps her lips shut.
“We’ll be right out,” I shout back. “We’ll talk in a bit,” I nod to Momma who gives me a return nod. “You heard the man.” I say syrupy sweet with a megawatt smile dialed up to a ten. I turn to the door and open it absently wondering where the hell I left my antacids. A gust of cool air wafts my way, carrying with it the scent of one very sharply dressed Sylas. He’s standing in front of the arched entrance to the large room where the ceremony and reception will take place, looking directly at me. Dad, Doug, Chick, Will, and Kyle are lined up in their appropriate order behind Sy. I breeze over to him hating that I’ll have to touch him, smell him, feel him so close to me. He crooks his elbow my direction and I slip my arm in place doing my best to ignore the whirl of butterfly wings in my belly. Reverend James begins coaching us all through the rehearsal and we are prompted to walk painfully slow down the long cream carpet leading to where the altar will be tomorrow.
“Sylas, good to see you again,” I say politely with a genial smile on my face which feels awkward and out of place more than it normally does.
“I don’t believe that at all.” Sylas looks down at me beside him but I keep my eyes forward, my smile in place, my gait deliberate and smooth.
“Suit yourself,” I say through my teeth, like a ventriloquist.
“You having a good birthday so far, Rae?” I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes at him.
“I’ve had better,” I murmur quietly.
“Never said that to me before,” he chuckles.
“Always so clever aren’t you Sylas?”
“Only when I need to be,” he whispers leaning closer to me, his breath tickling the tiny hairs behind my ear. Goosebumps sprout up along my body and Sylas rubs his free hand down my forearm grinning. It’s an intimate gesture, and it has my stomach flipping over itself.
“Are you cold, Rae,” he teases in response to the goose bumps he instigated. We stop at the altar and turn toward one another before stepping into our places with our eyes locked.
“Artic,” I deadpan without missing a beat.
“Now that, I believe,” he whispers, his smile faltering then fading completely. Everyone else takes their places and I do my job as best I can trying to be perfect for Ellie but my eyes keep finding their way to a dark gaze—a pensive stare that has stayed on me the entire time Reverend James walks us through what the ceremony will consist of tomorrow.
We’ve all had our fill of steak and shrimp and drinks here at The Blue Oyster, the only place in Palmetto Grove that I’d consider high end dining—and that is just by comparison to the other dining options. I push the grilled shrimp around on my plate and allow myself to get lost in thoughts of work. I’ll have a pile of things needing my attention the minute I get back to DC. It’s far better to think about the campaign and my team than it is to linger on the man across from me who has cut his gaze my direction at every opportunity.
Someone clearing their throat rips me from my mental escape and I focus my attention to the head of the table where my future brother-in-law is standing tall and practically glowing with happiness and love, mirroring Ellie at his side. “I just wanna say thank y’all so much for being a part of our big day and for being so supportive. I’d have nothin’ without y’all and Ellie. I’m proud to have each of you here and damn proud to finally make this woman my wife tomorrow,” Doug says holding his beer up for a toast. Everyone whistles and hoots and cheers for them with murmured, “Cheers!”
“We love y’all!” Ellie contributes on a shout and we all drink heartily from our glasses to the happy couple but inside I’m in hives. A group of waiters round the corner into the party dining area Mom reserved for the rehearsal dinner. The one in front is carrying a birthday cake.
Nooo, Anxiety leaps to her feet.
“Happy birthday to you,” they all begin singing with their eyes trained on me. I force a smile and glance at Ellie who is bouncing up and down on her toes grinning and clapping her hands. I nod and look down at the carrot cake that has been placed in front of me, silently thanking god that there are not twenty-eight candles ablaze. I don’t need another reminder of the stupid pact Sylas and I made when we were utterly in love teenagers. I feel his eyes on me and almost as though I have no control, I lift my eyes to find him sitting across the table from me not with an arrogant smirk on his face, as I would have expected, but a gentle smile and a look of sadness in his eyes, which is worse than a smirk. The sight makes my throat clog with unshed tears. A surge of emotion envelops me, remembering the boy I had once loved so completely and the girl I used to be and how it all fell so hopelessly apart.