“How come you don’t come over for dinner anymore?”
I’m not sure how to answer her. What do you say to a child who has lost so much in her life? “I’m busy with writing music. Sometimes it takes a lot of my time.”
I adjust Peyton and set her on my knee. “Mommy cries a lot at night again.”
“What do you mean, ‘again’?”
She shrugs. “I think she stopped for a little while, but now she does it again.”
I push her hair behind her shoulder and offer her a smile. I don’t know what to say. Part of me hopes she’s crying because we aren’t together, but I should know better. She misses her simple life and with that, comes the longing she has for her husband. She doesn’t shed tears for me.
“Wanna play?” I ask her, holding up the sticks. Her grin spreads from ear to ear as she takes them from my hand. She spins in my lap and is ready for me to give her the signal.
Except this time I don’t.
This time I bring out another set of sticks and play with her. We pound on the drums, creating our own music. When we have a decent rhythm going, I hit record on my laptop and we play again and again until it’s time to eat. When we’re done, we’re tired and sweaty. Peyton hugs me again. Her arms are tight around my neck. I hate that it’s taken so long for us to be friends and now that we are, I’m leaving her.
“I love you, Harrison.”
“I love you too, Peyton.” My response is automatic. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, threatening to come out or break at a moment’s notice. If loving her, Elle and Katelyn is right, why does everything I do feel so wrong?
"Are you ready?” I ask as I straighten out Josie’s train. It’s pinned to the French braids that meet at the back of her head. Her dress is strapless and tight around her waist. The silk is bunched and pinned statically, making her dress poof more. Jenna does a last minute fix on her make-up, as Josie is nervous and keeps touching her face.
“Stop touching,” Jenna says, slapping Josie’s hand.
“Why are you so nervous?” I ask.
“I don’t know. This is a huge step.”
Jenna and I start laughing. “Seriously? You have a son and you live together. Usually this step happens first.”
Josie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “What if he’s not there?”
“Oh my God, Josephine, get a grip. It’s time to go.” I push her toward the door. Jenna opens it and Mr. Preston is standing there, waiting for his daughter. I give him a kiss on the cheek as I pass by him.
Jenna, the twins and I walk into the vestibule. Music is playing softly. We wait for our cue. The girls walk out, dropping rose petals along the path. Their dresses match Josie’s, except with straps. Their beautiful hair is braided to match Josie’s, with pieces curled and hanging down. Jenna steps out next. I count to twenty like we practiced in rehearsal, and step out.
The three white roses that make up my bouquet are held tightly in front of me. My dress, crimson red, falls just below my knees, with a bow in front, just off to the side. I love my dress and not many people can say that about their bridesmaid dresses. The strapless, form fitting top and flow of the dress makes me feel sexy.
I avoid looking ahead for fear of what may break my heart even more. I smile at the guests on the sides, all eyes watching me until I pass. Each pew is decorated with white roses and red ribbon. Jenna and Aubrey have done a wonderful job with the flower arrangements.
I make a mistake and look toward the front to see Liam, wondering what expression he’s wearing. I don’t see him or Jimmy, even though they’re both there. All I see is Harrison, dressed sharply in a black and white tuxedo. His hair has been cut and styled nicely. He doesn’t look like the man I’ve declared my love for. He’s too covered. He’s not the storybook I’ve become accustomed to seeing.
His eyes connect with mine. I bite my lip to send a sharp reminder to my brain and my heart that I’m here for a reason, and that is Josie and Liam. Anything to do with Harrison will have to wait until my duties are done.
I step forward and take my spot next to Jenna. The girls are sitting on the steps, as are Noah and Quinn, who had the duty of escorting the guests today. They are dressed to match Harrison. I glance at Quinn, who smiles at me. His hair is tousled and in need of a trim. I shouldn’t have those thoughts though, but I can’t help it. In Noah’s lap is the ring pillow. It’s fitting that he holds the bands that will tie his family together.