Keeping Secrets in Seattle

chapter Eighteen


August 19, 2003

He kissed me. Oh, dear God, Gabe kissed me after we worked out tonight. When he pulled his face away from mine, I looked up over his shoulder at the sky and saw a shooting star. I told him to make a wish, and he said that his wish was that we would always be together. Then he kissed me one more time, long and slow, and said, ‘I’ve always loved you, Vi…’

I looked down at the stack of leather-bound journals sitting on my bed and sighed. I’d kept a journal since my first day of high school, and nine years later, I still wrote in one every night. Every memory. Every worry. Every thought…it all went into these books. They were a direct glimpse into my soul, and I’d never shown them to another human being before.

Until now.

Dragging a small brown box across my bedspread, I held my breath and said a silent prayer. I needed Gabe to understand why I’d done this. Why I’d chosen to share my secret with him this way. He needed to know. He should have known from the beginning. And it was time, once and for all, that he found out.

When the journal containing my secret was packed, I closed the top of the box and taped it shut. It was Friday morning, and I knew that if I sent the package today, it would reach Gabe’s apartment on Saturday while I was in Las Vegas with Landon. He could read the journal, know what happened, and finally know what I’ve been trying to tell him over the last month.

Or not.

Judging by the way our attempts at conversation over the past couple of months had gone, my hopes weren’t high that he’d read them at all.

My chest squeezed, and I rubbed my forehead. It was only six a.m., and I already had a headache. Landon was going to pick me up in fifteen minutes, and I needed to get this package addressed and ready for Betsy to mail downtown. I plucked a marker off of my dresser and scrawled out Gabe’s address just as there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.

“Come in.”

Kim walked into my room in her pajamas, a mug of coffee steaming in her hand. “You ready to go?”

“I think so.” I nodded and avoided her eyes. “Nothing left to do but get hitched.”

“Wow.” She chuckled and looked down at the box. “What’s this?”

“I’m sending some things to Gabe this weekend. Will you make sure Betsy remembers to take this with her to work? She said that she’d send it.” I put one last piece of tape on the box and slid it toward Kim.

She flared her nostrils. “What is it?”

“Just some stuff Gabe needs to see,” I said, turning my focus on my suitcase.

“Will do, darlin’.” Kim sipped her coffee. “I’m going to hit the shower. Love you.”

I folded the dress carefully and laid it in my suitcase. “Love you, too. I’ll call…you know, after.”

“You better.” She waved, then locked herself in the bathroom, leaving me in the quiet alone. I stared down at the box with Gabe’s address on it and fingered his name. By the time he opened that box and read those journals, I would be a married woman. Married to another man. A good man. A man I was lucky to have.

But a piece of my heart was taped up in that box with my secrets.

…

“The ceremony before yours went long. Would you like some champagne while you wait?”

I examined the woman holding two plastic champagne flutes filled with bubbly liquid under our noses. She looked like a woman who’d spent the better part of her adulthood in smoky bars and tanning beds, and her voice was as croaky as a lumberjack’s.

“Thank you.” I took both cups and swallowed their contents in four gulps.

Her black-lined eyes widened, and she topped them off again. “Congratulations.”

“Landon? Champagne?” I wiggled the cup in his direction. “Bottoms up.”

He watched me for a beat. I could tell that he was growing more and more concerned. During our limo ride from the hotel to the chapel, I’d just stared out the window at the blurry neon lights flashing. In the time since slipping into a beautiful turquoise dress with black lace overlay—and sidestepping Landon’s efforts to get me back out of it—the lump in my throat had morphed back into a ball of broken glass, scratching my throat raw.

“Are you all right?” His voice was quiet.

“I’m fine.” I swirled the cup. “Drink up.”

He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

Upon walking through the door, I’d had to run into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and stuff tissues underneath my arms. I was sweating like a madwoman, even though I was inside an air-conditioned building. I was minutes away from marrying Landon. Thoughts of Gabe scrolled through my mind like a slide show, every memory we’d made together over the years. When Landon failed to grab his cup of the pinkish bubbly, I threw my head back and downed his portion in one gulp.

He watched me with a scowl. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

I looked down. The weight of his stare was making me sweat even more, and the tissues under my arms were getting soggy. “I’ve already told you that I’m fine.”

I glanced around the lobby, where the walls were covered in black vinyl and we were perched on a pink pleather couch. The woman who’d given us champagne lit a cigarette behind the counter and released a hacking cough.

“Good grief. When is it our turn?” I shifted on the couch while Elvis declared someone husband and wife in the next room.

Landon pried the plastic cups from my fingers. “You need some air.”

Rolling my eyes to the ceiling, I barked, “No, I don’t. It’s ninety degrees outside, and I’m leaving pit marks on this dress. What I need is for Elvis to speed things up in there, so we can get this show on the road.”

His hands went from my fingers, up my arms to my shoulders, which he turned so that I was forced to face him. “Talk to me. Are you—”

“Awuh! You two are so darling,” the lady said through a plume of cigarette smoke.

Landon’s eyes flicked from me to her, then back again. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Bringing my eyes to meet his, there was a ragged edge to my voice. “I’ll be fine as soon as we get in that damn room and get this wedding over with.”

His mouth turned downward. “Over with?”

My eyes filled. I’d had entirely too much champagne on an empty stomach. “That’s not what I meant…”

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” His grip on my shoulders tightened.

“Of course I do.” I swiped at my eye with the back of my hand and realized that my mascara was melting. Deep inside my purse, my cell phone rang, and my fingers twitched, itching to answer it. Anything to remove myself from the discomfort I was presently submerged in.

As I opened my mouth to respond, the doors to the next room opened, and a drunk couple came stumbling out of the chapel amidst a shower of confetti. A short, squat Elvis impersonator emerged behind the newly married couple, doing a less-than-stellar impersonation of The King as they made their way to the exit.

“Is this my next hunka-hunka-burning love couple, Mavis?” His lip curled so high, it practically went into his nostril.

She nodded and stubbed out her cigarette. “Sure is. They purchased the number five.”

I cringed. My mother was going to kill me when she found out I’d ordered my wedding package like a value meal.

“That’s us,” I told the fake Elvis with fake enthusiasm.

Landon’s stare scalded the skin on the side of my face. “We need a few minutes.”

Fake Elvis swiveled his hips, and his belly vibrated. “The King’s got a full schedule tonight, kids.”

If he didn’t start moving toward the altar, I was going to lose it. “We are ready, sir.” I glanced at Fake Elvis’s sparkling white jumpsuit. “Er, Your Majesty.”

He launched into an off-key version of “I’m All Shook Up,” and Landon released my arms. “Sir, I think we need a minute.”

“We don’t need a minute.” I used a piece of tissue from my armpit to wipe the makeup off my face. Grimacing, I said, “We’re ready right now.”

“But you’re almost in tears.” His voice was low and strained.

“It’s her wedding day. She’s allowed to be emotional,” the woman behind the counter said, lighting another smoke. The smoke assaulted my red nose, and tears tickled at the backs of my eyes.

“You’re not just emotional.” Landon touched my chin and made me look into his eyes. “You don’t want to do this.”

My phone beeped again, and I scrambled to fetch it from my purse. It was an e-mail. From Gabe. I clamped my teeth down on my lips until they hurt. I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to break down in the middle of the chapel in front of Fake Elvis and his chain-smoking assistant, Mavis.

“Do you love me, Violet?” Landon’s eyes were moist.

This was killing me. It felt like there was a large animal sitting across my chest, crushing me. My phone beeped again.

Landon’s eyes cooled. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

I sniffled, reality setting in. It was a knife in the head. “Yes.”

Fake Elvis deemed this moment worthy of a song, so he drew a breath and began singing “Fools Rush In.”

Landon put a hand up in his face. “Do you mind?” Then, turning back to me, his frown deepened. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Do you love me?”

In that instant, I could see Gabe’s face in my mind’s eye and sense his fingers sweeping across my cheek to brush a strand of hair back from my face. Every touch, every laugh, every kiss he and I had ever shared was burned into my brain.

This wasn’t going to work. No matter how hard I tried, and no matter how deep into the woods I moved, I was never going to stop loving Gabe. It didn’t matter that he was marrying Alicia. The only thing that mattered was that I couldn’t live a lie. And marrying Landon would be a lie.

“I’m so sorry.” I choked on a sob. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Fake Elvis interrupted with the first few lines of “Are You Lonesome Tonight.”

“Sir, could you please shut up?” I begged before guiding Landon a foot or two away from the white jumpsuit. “I do love you. It’s just that…I can’t marry you just to escape my feelings for Gabe.”

He closed his eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

The woman behind the counter announced, “No refunds!”

There we were, crying in a Las Vegas wedding chapel while a chunky Elvis impersonator crooned. What a sight.

I glared at the woman, then brought my eyes back to Landon’s pale face. “Landon, you deserve better. You deserve someone who loves you with her whole heart. I…I got so caught up in this whirlwind with you.”

Fake Elvis’s head popped up next to Landon, his waist shaking and shimmying so much that he was brushing against me with his giant belt, while butchering “Don’t Be Cruel.”

I whirled to face him. “Okay, I’m sorry, but I am going to kick your bedazzled ass in about thirty seconds…”

The woman behind the counter pointed at me with a bright-red nail. “Nobody talks that way to the king!”

I hoisted my purse up over my shoulder and pulled Landon through the glass doors just as another intoxicated couple stumbled inside.

“Congratulations!” the woman slurred as we passed. The man beside her belched.

As soon as we stepped through the doors, the ninety-degree heat hit me like a slap across the face. It was nearly eight-thirty at night and still stiflingly hot. I missed my cool, wet Seattle air.

“We’re breaking up,” he said it matter-of-factly and dropped my hand. A statement, not a question.

Nodding, I used the corner of my small fabric purse to dab at my eyes. “Yeah. I guess we are.” I took his hand and rested my head on his chest. Instead of pulling away, Landon wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face to my hair. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. “I really thought I could make this work. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

“You know he is marrying someone else, right?” His voice was flat. “You know that Gabe doesn’t want you.”

His words hurt, even though I knew he was right. “I know. It doesn’t matter.” More tears leaked onto his dress shirt. “I don’t want to be with you for the wrong reasons, Landon.”

We stood there in each other’s arms for the longest time, the Nevada heat soaking our clothing with sweat. Once we’d both stilled, I raised my face and kissed him softly. “I think it’s best if I go back to the hotel, pack my things, and head home.”

He nodded. “I’ll miss you, Violet.”

The animal on my chest lifted, and I could finally breathe. “I’ll miss you, too.”

It was over.