Heat Wave

It was something I lived with and was prepared to live with. I viewed Veronica through a distorted lens as her brother-in-law, keeping my distance and any thoughts at bay. I admired her from afar and did my best to never think of her in any way but innocent.

And it worked for the most part. I didn’t want to live out my marriage being attracted to someone else, let alone be in love with them. I didn’t want to give up on Juliet.

She gave up on me.

And then she died.

And I was broken. Yes, there was grief. Pure grief and loss. And there was regret, that things went this way, that she died with our marriage upside down, that we never addressed the elephant in the room, that things were left unsaid.

But more than any of that, I was drowning in hatred in the years after. Because of guilt. Because of thoughts of being free, thoughts that shamed me. I hated myself for it and I became a bitter, bitter man.

Then Veronica showed up at my door, at the place Juliet and I created, and I knew that everything was going to change. I can’t say I wanted it to—I was comfortable in my rage and bitterness. It fit me like a worn glove. I thought I was going to die with a thorn in my side.

But Veronica removed that thorn. Slowly at first. She jabbed me with the bloody thing a few times, kept me on my toes. She still does. But it was only through her that the light got in. She became more than I ever thought she would.

Today, I’m going to marry her.

With that thought in mind, I get up on the wave. I surf it into shore, feeling unstoppable. The sun rises above the palms, the rays hitting me on the back, and this is the start of the rest of my life.

I spend the next hour catching a few more waves, then it’s time to head back in. I’ve got a lot to do and I still haven’t prepared my speech. I’m going to wing it, which is probably a terrible idea, but I feel like I don’t have to worry about what I’ll say. Staring at Veronica will make the words flow straight from the heart.

She stayed the night at the St. Regis hotel in Princeville with her maid-of-honor Claire, as well as Kate and Nikki, her bridesmaids. I have no idea what they got up to, though Ron texted me late last night telling me she loved me and hated tequila and that we should get a chicken called HeiHei and let it be the ringbearer.

My best man is my brother Kit, who I flew out here from Darwin for the ceremony. I hadn’t seen him in seven years, so it was long overdue. My groomsmen are Warren, who was one of the hotel’s original investors, Johnny, Daniel, Jin, and yes, Charlie. It took a long time to come to terms with Charlie being a snitch of sorts, but in the end it was clear that he really didn’t know what he was doing.

It doesn’t matter now. What’s past is past and Veronica did get to punch him in the face anyway, saving me from obliterating him. We’re all a united front with the hotel, and the Lockes are no longer in the picture.

Which I know bothers Ron. She’s got a soft heart even when she tries to hide it. The moment we told them that we were getting married and that there was nothing they could say or do, was the moment they cut us out of their lives. I said that life is made of moments, and that was one in which Ron knew who her family was. It was me. It was everyone at Moonwater. Her real ohana.

Her father does reach out to her every now and then, trying to keep the peace. He’s not a bad man, he’s just a weak man, and as long as his wife has complete control, he’ll never be fully on Veronica’s side. But at least he tries.

Naturally, he’s not here. None of her family came. Not uncles or aunts or cousins. No one approves. The fact that I’m marrying Juliet’s sister is too much for them to take. Some families are built on appearances and politics, and we’re better off without that in our lives.

It sounds tired and cliché to say but honestly all we need is each other.

The wedding is held at Moonwater, in the same spot where we have the luau, so when I get out of the surf and cut through the hotel grounds, it’s already alive with people bustling about and getting things ready.

“Shephard,” Johnny says, stepping out of his room. “You went surfing? You’re getting married soon, you know.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. How are you feeling?”

While the girls were at their fancy hotel, we just drank at the bar. I managed to keep myself in line but Kit, Johnny, and Charlie got blitzed. I don’t give a damn, so as long as they show up and don’t get sick anywhere, we’re golden.

Johnny grins at me. “Happy as a clam, bro.”

I spend the rest of the day moving from moment to moment.



- Getting dressed (black pants, white shirt, no tie)

- Checking on the guys

- Coordinating with the DJ and caterers

- Hiding from Veronica (she believes in the whole “don’t you dare fucking see the bride in her dress” nonsense)

- Pacing my living room

- Greeting the guests

- Nearly shitting myself