Reverse (The Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)

“Yeah?”

“I can’t believe this happened—this is happening, has been happening.” She lifts her grey eyes to mine, and in them, I see a glimpse of the girl who kicked open my office door with sharpie lyric scribbled Converse before roller-skating her way into my heart.

“Yeah, it’s pretty surreal,” I agree.

“Fate really did its thing, didn’t it?”

“Sure,” I say, rolling my eyes up.

“Oh, please,” she scolds playfully. “Fate is why you became a writer. I’ll always remember the story of how you got started.”

“I know. I read your book.”

Mouth parting, eyes wide, she gapes at me.

“Stella…speechless,” I buff my nails on the breast of my tux. “I’ve definitely still got it.”

“You read it?”

“Yeah, I did,” I say, as our own memories continue to trickle in. Memories of a different life. “A copy materialized on my desk last year.”

“Oh,” she says, her expression clouding with anxiety.

“I’m glad I read it,” I admit.

“Yeah?” She prompts, hope lighting her eyes.

“Yeah, I am,” I say sincerely. “Kind of hard to hold onto any grudge when your ex-fiancée introduces you as a sex God someone forgot about.”

“Pretty sure sex wasn’t the preface—”

“You have your interpretation. I have mine. But…to be honest, I loved your interpretation.”

“Really?”

“Really. It fit.”

“Well, that’s…shit…Nate.” Her eyes water over again as she inhales a deep breath, her voice shaking when she speaks. “Even if this was hard to accept at first, it’s…kind of beautiful, isn’t it? That our love story led to theirs?”

“Yeah, it is, truly,” I agree as we fully relax our guards. “You raised a good man, Stella.”

“I think so, too,” she says with pride. “And Natalie is…she’s absolutely beautiful, Nate. The spitting image of you, too, in every imaginable way.”

“I know,” I smile with my own parental pride as she playfully slaps my chest.

“Ughhh, still an egomaniac.”

“Some things never change,” I muse.

“Good,” she whispers, “and I hope some things never will.”

“They won’t,” I assure, bending and pressing a quick kiss to her temple.

Relief relaxes her features as we silently exchange that we’re both at peace with the place we have in each other’s lives. I don’t want Stella feeling guilty because I meant the words I spoke to my wife. I wouldn’t change a thing. I wouldn’t go back. I wouldn’t alter a minute of my life, not a fucking second.

“Now, go fetch my wife from the closet I’m sure she’s hiding in, and please do your best not to corrupt her.”

“No promises,” she quips, her grin growing as she begins to back away, beaming a smile at me before turning. I do the same as she disappears and I reclimb the steps before knocking on the door.

“Uncle Nate, you look so handsome,” Holly says with a smile, ushering me inside.

Before I get a chance to reply, I spot Natalie standing on a stepstool in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror in her wedding gown, a bouquet of pale pink roses in hand. Eyes already stinging, it’s when ours meet in the reflection, and she gasps out an elated but tearful, “Daddy,” that I’m a goner.





Sleep Walk

Deftones



Shaking my hands free of excess water, I grab a fresh towel and wipe them dry as the bass filters through the walls from the reception. Exiting the restroom, I retrieve Addie’s empty champagne flute where I left it. Headed towards the bar, I stop dead in my tracks as a familiar voice sounds up from the other side of a closed door.

“Oh my God…stop! We’re going to get busted.”

“It’s all right, baby. No one can hear us. The music is too loud.” I know that voice, too.

“We…have…to…stop. Jesus, Damon, what in the hell was in that Mexican beach water?!”

“I love you, Holly, that’s what was in the damned water, now less talking and less pant—”

I rap firmly on the door twice. “I’m going to stop you right there and tell you that anyone, and I mean anyone, who walks past this door, will be able to both hear and identify you, clearly.”

A long pause.

Holly is the first to speak up. “Uncle Nate?”

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s me.”

“Ummm, I…we…thank you for…this…see, the truth is, we really haven’t come—”

“Out of the closet?” I finish, because it can’t be helped. “That’s apparent. Tell you what, I’ll do you both and myself a favor and pretend like I didn’t hear anything.”

Because you’ve changed both their damned diapers.

The thought of that has me cringing as they speak up in unison. “Thank you.”

I take two steps away, hearing the click of my wingtips on the floor and their relieved sighs just before Holly whispers a scolding, “I told you!”

“And guys…” I speak up again, only to be met by another pregnant pause.

“Yes, Uncle Nate?” Holly asks. The squeak in her tone has my smile cracking wider.

“It’s about damned time.”

I walk away in fast strides, thankful that I didn’t exit the bathroom a minute later. I might not have survived it. Entering the reception, I walk up to the bar and hand over the empty champagne glass to the bartender requesting a fresh one.

“Hey, man.”

I turn to see Reid standing next to me, dressed in a matching tux, his hair still slicked back presentably.

“Hey,” I chuckle as he adjusts his jacket, looking uncomfortable before patting down his pockets.

“Fuck,” he closes his eyes briefly before shaking his head in irritation. “Leave it to me to quit smoking on an overseas trip where my wife assured me some witch doctor’s herbs will help curb it.”

“Careful, Crowne, you almost passed for a gentleman.” I grin as he scowls at me, fidgeting with the collar of his fitted tux.

“Let’s get you some old-fashioned therapy,” I suggest. “What are you drinking?”

He tilts his empty rocks glass my way. “Whiskey.”

“I’ll join you,” I say, nodding toward the bartender to add to my order before tossing a bill in his tip jar. Drinks in hand, we both sip our whiskey as our wives—who are standing on opposite sides of the reception hall—spot us at the bar, their expressions a mix of fear and intrigue. I stifle my grin by taking a long sip of my drink.

“They’re nervous as hell right now,” Reid mutters, his tone just as amused as he keeps a straight face.

“This is too good. It’s like they’re expecting a full-on brawl,” I agree, trying like hell to keep my cool as Stella watches us carefully like we’re zoo animals.

“It’s amazing how helpless they think we are,” Reid says.

“Little do they know,” I say, turning back toward the bar, no longer able to hide my smile. Reid follows suit as we both let them slip. Under the radar, I clink my glass to his. “Should we keep them guessing?”

“Maybe a little longer,” he says. “This is too good.”

The bartender flits his attention behind us, and we take the cue and step aside to allow the guests their turn at the bar. Though the wedding is on the smaller scale, the hall is filled to the brim with friends and family from both sides—some of whom I have yet to meet. My eyes drift toward familiar when I spot Lexi and Ben, who are slow dancing on the floor.

“Are they ever going to get it together?” I ask. Reid follows my line of sight and the lift of my chin. I’m all too aware of Lexi and Ben’s drama, having firsthand witnessed Lexi’s state in the aftermath of her and Ben’s initial breakup, along with following the headlines they’ve made over the years.

“Ben has had a diamond in his pocket since the day after we played at the Super Bowl,” Reid chuckles. “I have no doubt it will be on her finger one day soon. And she’ll marry him and throw it back at him a hundred times before we finally toss them in the grave together. To be honest, right now, they’re the least of my worries. I’m seeing a lot more drama unfolding than those two can toss at us tonight.”

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