Читать книгу Rom-Com Collection - Kristan Higgins - Страница 20

CHAPTER TEN

NATURE HAD PULLED OUT all the stops the morning of Faith and Jeremy’s wedding. The sun shone over the lake, burnishing it a deep, aching blue, and it seemed that every flower and tree was at its most beautiful as the limo drove from the Hill down to the village square. Faith wore a Cinderella dress, the tight, beaded bodice catching the light and throwing rainbows through the car, the tulle skirt so puffy that it almost obscured Abby, who was chattering with excitement. Prudence looked strange and beautiful out of work clothes, her eyes crinkling in a smile. Both her sisters wore pink, Faith’s favorite color, and Colleen, as maid of honor, had a dress slightly deeper in shade. Faith hadn’t wanted to choose between her sisters, so Colleen had gotten the nod.

“You girls,” John Holland said, his eyes damp. “So beautiful.”

Faith realized she was clenching her bouquet. She wasn’t nervous. Well, a little. But not about marrying Jeremy, of course not. No, it was probably just stage fright. There’d be three hundred people at the church, after all. So yes, it was probably just that. Once she saw Jeremy, those nerves would disappear.

He’d called her last night to tell her Levi had been delayed in Atlanta and would have to meet them at the church, not to worry, he’d be there.

“That’s good,” Faith had said. The truth was, she wouldn’t have minded if Levi got stuck and missed the entire wedding; she hadn’t seen him since high school, and she wasn’t really looking forward to that bored, condescending air he always had around her. Then again, surely all that childish stuff was done. She was about to become his best friend’s wife, after all. Besides, no negative thoughts would be allowed on the night before her wedding. “It’ll be great to see him,” she added. Points for positive attitude.

Jeremy hadn’t said anything.

“Honey? You still there?” she whispered.

“I just wanted to tell you that being your husband is everything I’ve ever wanted,” Jeremy said, his voice husky.

“Oh, Jeremy,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

That’s what she should be thinking of on this beautiful June morning. Not the tremor in her stomach. Maybe she was just missing her mom, because what girl didn’t want her mother on her wedding day, to exclaim and shed a few tears...and, if the case called for it, to reassure.

From a place dark and deep inside her, something roared.

Nope. No. Uh-uh. It was just stage fright. She was, by far, the luckiest woman in the world. Being your husband is everything I’ve ever wanted. Come on!Those were words she could take to the bank! Nothing could be wrong when a man said words like that. This was marital gold.

The limo pulled up in front of Trinity Lutheran, the stone church where the Hollands had gone for generations, and the tourists who were wandering on the green stopped to look as the wedding party got out. “You’re so beautiful!” one woman called. The photographer snapped her picture as she bent to kiss Abby’s cheek, a picture that would go on to win a prize in a national photography contest later that year.

Then, holding on to her father’s arm, Colleen fluffing her dress, Faith went into the church to marry the man she’d loved since the first day she’d met him, when, like the hero in a movie, he’d carried her unconscious form in his strong arms. Okay, that sounded creepy, but it hadn’t been. It had been wonderful, or so she was told.

There he was, standing on the altar, so handsome in his tux, tall and manly. He was smiling at someone, maybe one of his patients, because half the town had flocked to him, never mind that he was barely done with his residency. Levi had made it, she noted; he looked older in his dress uniform. He was shorter than Jeremy, his hair sticking up a little in front. His face was somber; he must’ve been tired from all his traveling. Faith couldn’t help thinking it’d be nice if he could fake a smile. It was her wedding day, after all, and the man looked as if he was at a funeral.

Pachelbel’s Canon in D began, and Pru started down the aisle. Honor turned, and, so uncharacteristically, hugged Faith. “Love you,” she whispered, then started down herself, followed by Colleen and then Abby.

Pachelbel stopped, then, and the wedding march began.

Faith’s heart rate tripled. She tried to keep her eyes on Jeremy, felt her face stretching in a smile, but damned if she didn’t feel...wrong.

Just nervous, her brain lied.

It seemed like the entire town was there, looking at her: Dr. Buckthal, her neurologist, and his wife. Theresa DeFilio, one of the truly nice girls from high school, a baby on her shoulder, handsome husband at her side. Jessica Dunn, yawning. Laura Boothby who’d done such an amazing job with the flowers. Ted and Elaine, smiling brightly. Connor O’Rourke. Mrs. Johnson and Jack in the front row. So many people. Way too many.

When Reverend White asked who gave this woman in marriage, Dad answered, “Her mother and I,” and the congregation sighed with the bittersweet beauty of his words. Daddy kissed her cheek, tears in his eyes, and shook Jeremy’s hand, leaning in to give him a one-armed hug. “Take care of my baby,” he said, then went to his seat.

Jeremy’s hands were clammy. “You look so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips pulling back in something like a smile. His gaze bounced from her to somewhere over her head.

He wasn’t nervous. He was terrified.

A floating feeling enveloped Faith, almost like the auras that preceded her seizures, but different, too. Faith could hear her own breathing, rather than the words of the minister, the readings—one by Jack, one by Jeremy’s cousin Anne. The wedding seemed to slow into endlessness. It hadn’t seemed so long at the rehearsal. Honestly, it was the longest wedding in history! Why hadn’t they gotten to the vows yet? She couldn’t look at Jeremy and focused on the readers instead, on Reverend White, on her bouquet.

Maybe it was the epilepsy. Faith tried to wrestle her faulty brain into order, to press each detail into her memory. Enjoy the day, that’s what everyone told her, but, hell, it seemed like she might be on the verge of that dark, epileptic hole. She’d been religious about taking her meds. Hadn’t had a seizure in three years. Please, not that, not now.

The seizure didn’t come, but the sense of doom pressed in on her like hot lead.

Now the minister was talking about marriage and the seriousness of two people pledging their lives together. Faith couldn’t concentrate. She just wanted to say her vows and be Jeremy’s wife. She wanted to promise to love him all the days of her life, because she would. He was the One. Just a few more minutes, and it would be official, and please, get this over with, was this a normal way to be feeling, couldn’t they just fast forward to the part where people were throwing birdseed?

Reverend White finally stopped blathering. He looked out over the congregation, and Faith looked, too, all those smiling faces, her dad looking so proud, her grandparents beaming. Almost there. Almost there. She looked back at Jeremy. His face was oily with sweat, his hands damp and hot, clenching hers.

“Before we begin the vows,” the reverend said, “does anyone know of a reason these two should not be wed? If so, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Her heart was now beating so hard she could feel the separate chambers rolling and squeezing.

No one said anything.

The reverend smiled. “I didn’t think so. In that case—”

“Jeremy.” The voice was so low, it might not have actually been spoken. But, no, Jeremy flinched.

It was Levi. “Jeremy. Come on.”

What? Why was he talking? He looked so damn solemn in that uniform. So...authoritative. Why did he have to come? Why couldn’t his plane have been late?

Jeremy’s breathing was jagged. The sheen of sweat grew, droplets beading on his forehead. He licked his lips and swallowed, then opened his mouth to speak.

“No,” she whispered.

“Faith,” Jeremy said, squeezing her hands so hard he was crushing them.

“No.” She forced herself to smile. “I love you.”

Pain ripped through his eyes, eyes that had only ever before smiled at her. “Honey, I...I have to talk to you.”

A murmur went up from the congregation, and from the corner of her eye, Faith could see her father’s mouth opening in shock, Elaine—Elaine, who loved Faith like a daughter—gripping Ted’s arm.

Faith’s legs were shaking, her dress quivering with the movement. “Jeremy, let’s just finish this,” she whispered.

“Is there a problem?” Reverend White asked, his bushy eyebrows coming together.

“No!” Faith answered, her voice cracking. Oh, Lord, she was going to faint. “There’s not.”

Jeremy swallowed again, his eyes filled with tears. “Faith,” he said again, and her knees did buckle then.

“Let’s go,” Levi said, taking Faith by the arm. “Downstairs, you two.” He towed her off the altar, the train of her dress tugging with its weight. Jeremy followed.

There was a staircase right by the altar. “What the hell are you doing?” Pru asked, and then the voices of the guests rumbled and echoed in the church. Down the stairs they went, Levi’s hand inescapable. He was a bully. He was ruining everything.

“Jeremy,” she squeaked, looking back. Her fiancé didn’t meet her eyes.

Levi pushed through the door at the bottom of the stairs. The church basement was dim and smelled like chalk. Four or five metal folding chairs sat huddled together. Bible Study or AA or something. Levi let go of her arm and then guided Jeremy a few paces away, leaving her standing alone.

“What’s going on here?” It was her father, thank God, and Colleen and her sisters and Jack, and Jeremy’s parents, too. Her father came to her side and put his arm around her, and she sagged against his shoulder. “You’re ruining their wedding, Levi!”

Yes! He was supposed to be the best man, not the ruiner of weddings. How dare he? You know, she had always wished Jeremy had had a different friend. She’d never liked Levi Cooper. He was too...secretive. And confident. And he’d never liked her, especially after that one stupid kiss.

“Hang on a sec,” Levi said.

He and Jeremy were talking, Jeremy’s voice panicky, Levi’s lower, calmer. Then Jeremy nodded; Levi gave his shoulder a squeeze, nodded, then turned to the group.

“Jeremy and Faith need a little time alone,” he said. His eyes stopped—not on Faith, but on Mr. and Mrs. Lyon.

“Oh,” Elaine said, her voice very, very soft. “Oh, dear.”

“Faith?” Dad said. “Do you want us to stay?”

She looked at Jeremy, who loved her. Who’d called her last night to say everything he ever wanted was to be her husband. “It’ll be okay. It’s fine, Daddy.”

“I’ll be right on the other side of that door,” he said. “Call if you need me.”

Everyone left, slowly, uncertainly, glancing back at Faith. She sank into a metal chair, Jeremy sitting across from her. And Levi, damn him, walked a few feet away and stood with his hands behind his back, staring at the floor, looking like a stone wall.

“Does he have to stay?” Faith whispered.

“I...I’d like him to,” Jeremy whispered back. “If that’s okay.”

She looked into his eyes, which were so dark they were almost black, and which had always seemed so happy—with her, with life. Smiling seemed to be his natural expression, and everyone commented on it, that big, ready grin of his.

No smiling now.

She sensed the world was about to end.

“Faith,” he said, his voice soft and broken, “I want you to know that I do love you, so much.” He took a breath and looked at the floor. “But I can’t marry you.”

“Why?” she asked, her voice squeaking. “Are you sick? I don’t mind, I’d stay with you, that’s the whole point, in sickness and in—”

He looked back up, his gaze slamming into hers. “I’m gay.”

The two words seemed to float around her for a few seconds, meaningless, before they hooked into her brain. She sucked in a quick breath and jerked back, and started to speak. It took a few tries; her mouth was making odd little noises, her lips trying and failing to form words. Finally, she stopped, gave her head a quick shake, and tried again.

“No, you’re not. You’re not gay.”

“I’m so sorry.” He looked...old.

“You don’t have to be sorry! You don’t! Because you’re not. You aren’t. You can’t be.”

He hesitated, looking at the floor, folding his hands together loosely, his beautiful doctor hands. There should’ve been a wedding ring on the fourth finger of his left hand by now. There would’ve been if Levi had kept his mouth shut.

Jeremy took a deep breath. “I didn’t...acknowledge it, and I really thought I could... I mean, for a long time, I honestly didn’t know. I didn’t. I just thought those feelings would go away, and with you, it was like proof that I wasn’t—”

“Stop! Shut it, Jeremy. My God.” Okay, she was hyperventilating a little. “You are not gay.” She took a steadying breath. “You have the worst taste in clothes I’ve ever seen in a man. I had to teach you how to dress. Remember those mom jeans you thought looked good on you? They were horrible! You have no sense of style whatsoever. If it weren’t for me and Banana Republic—”

“Faith, I—”

“No! Plus, you’re a terrible dancer! I mean, we had to take six lessons before you figured out the box step, Jeremy! And—and—and you played football! You were really good at it, too. You played football, Jeremy! You were the quarterback!”

He put his hands on her knees, on her beautiful dress, on all that poufy fabric, and his happy, beautiful face was so old and tragic now, oh, God. “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “And I thought, when I met you, that I’d sort of click into place. I really did love you—”

“You do love me! Don’t put that in the past tense!” she cried, her voice shrill. “You said you wanted to be my husband! You said so on the phone last night, Jeremy!”

“Take it easy,” Levi said.

Faith whirled around. “Shut up, Levi!” she barked. “If you have to be here, at least shut up!” He looked back down at the floor and obeyed.

Faith took a breath, then another, and looked into Jeremy’s eyes. “I know you love me,” she went on more steadily. “I know that more than I know anything. How can you be saying all this?” She lowered her voice. “Did Levi make a pass at you or—”

“No! God, no,” Jeremy said. “Levi has nothing to do with this. You’re the only one I’ve ever been with, Faith. Ever.”

“See? Then you’re not gay. You’re just not. We’ve been sleeping together since sophomore year of college!”

A horrible thought occurred to her. That maybe dating a guy who said he loved you but waited two years to get into your pants...oh, shit.

“Faith, when we’re...together,” Jeremy said, very, very quietly, “I have to...um...”

At that moment, the door opened and Jeremy’s great-aunt Peg came in. “I just have to use the ladies’ room,” she said. “Don’t worry, I won’t listen to a word. Faith, darling, you look so beautiful. And, Levi, is it? Oh, I love a man in uniform! Thank you for your service, sweetheart.”

“Uh...you’re welcome,” Levi said. “Thanks for your support.”

Good God. This was just bizarre enough to be a nightmare. You know what? It might be. She prayed it was. The great-aunt in the loo, Jeremy being gay...come on! It had to be a dream. Please, God. Let me wake up in my bed and have this be a dream, and Jeremy and I will still get married. I can tell him about this dream, and we’ll laugh and laugh about it. Please.

The details, though. The smell of chalk, the cold chairs. The gleam on Levi’s shoes, his crew cut.

Jeremy’s bowed head.

Finally, Great-Aunt Peg emerged. “See you upstairs!” she said, waving merrily.

“You were saying?” Faith said. Her voice was sharper now, harder. “When we’re together, you have to what, Jeremy?”

He grimaced. “I have to think of...other things. Even though I think you’re beautiful and—”

“What things?” she said. “I think I deserve to know what things you had to picture!”

“Faith, this probably isn’t—” Levi began.

“Shut up, Levi! What things, Jeremy?”

He looked wretched. Utterly miserable. “I have to picture Justin Timberlake.”

Oh.

Okay, that was a showstopper. The case for Jeremy’s heterosexuality took a serious hit with that one. “Justin Timberlake?”

“‘Rock Your Body.’ The video.”

Her mouth was open, she realized. She closed it. The JT song echoed in her head, taunting. Those damn white hoodies everyone wore.

Oh, no.

Thoughts bounced and zinged through her head, not quite registering. Her makeup must be ruined from crying. The dress was itchy. They wouldn’t have their first dance together. They weren’t getting married.

“You’re really gay?” she whispered.

He looked up and nodded, his eyes were full of tears, too, and it was idiotic, but she wanted to comfort him. “I thought that I...that I wasn’t,” he said. “I wanted a wife—you—I wanted kids, I wanted a life like my parents have, but...I...yes. I am.”

He covered his eyes with one hand and bowed his head.

From the first time she’d laid eyes on him, Faith had known he was special and gentle and wonderful. From that first second on, she’d loved him. He had never, ever let her down, never found her lacking, never spoke to her in anger or looked at her in contempt.

Jeremy Lyon was, above all things, a good, good man.

Without quite intending to, she reached out and stroked his smooth black hair, cut short for this day.

He looked up, his misery so obvious that it wrenched her heart, the heart he was breaking.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “I’m so, so sorry, Faith.”

He leaned in close, so his head was touching hers, and they sat there another moment or two—or an hour, the uneven sound of Jeremy’s breathing as he cried, the soft pat of tears as they fell from Faith’s eyes to her dress. The reality of the future pressed down on Faith, the weight almost bearable at first. Her beautiful wedding wasn’t going to happen. No honeymoon in Napa, lounging around in bed with this beautiful man. Oh, God, the weight was pressing on her chest harder now. No black-haired children running through the fields of Blue Heron...no life with Jeremy, the only one who’d ever seen in her something that was special and rare and precious.

Jeremy had been proof that she was forgiven. But now there was nothing. There’d be nothing now.

“I guess we should call off the wedding, huh?” she said, and he gave a half laugh, half sob, then stood up and pulled her against him, pressing her face against his hard, muscled shoulder, and she hugged him as hard as she could, her throat aching with the sobs she wouldn’t let out, because it would break Jeremy to hear that, and she loved him too much to do that. He was the love of her life.

“I’ll leave town,” he said, his voice cracking. “I—I can move. I won’t stay here, Faith. I won’t do that to you.”

But he was the town doctor. Elaine and Ted had loaned him the money to buy Dr. Wilkinson’s practice. She’d helped him redecorate the waiting rooms, bought him the iconic Norman Rockwell prints, filled out the online forms so he’d have up-to-date magazines. Six months in business, and he was already thinking about hiring another nurse, because that’s how popular he was.

Already her head was shaking. “No. You’re not going anywhere. Don’t do anything. Just...you know what? Let’s not do anything yet, okay?” Her breath was starting to hitch. “Let’s...we’ll just...talk later.” Panic lapped at her feet, her knees, threatening to pull her under. She was going to lose it if she had to stay here another second. “This is all going to be fine, but I—I think I should get going,” she managed, looking at his chest. She risked one more glance at his face, and, oh, God, it really did feel like her heart was being ripped apart.

“Faith, I wish things were different,” Jeremy whispered. “I’m so—”

“I have to go now,” she said. She took a breath and bit her lip hard, and her voice came out in a whisper. “Bye.” There was a world of heartbreak in that one small word.

Into the bright sunshine that was an affront now, then into the dark cave of the limo. Some kind blankness was settling around her, thank you, God, and then Daddy was there, holding her against him, and her sisters, and Mrs. Johnson, who gripped her hand and said nothing. Jack was taking care of the guests, someone said, and Jeremy was talking to his parents.

She still had her bouquet.

No one said anything as they drove home. Blue, the half-grown Golden retriever she’d adopted from the rescue league a few months ago (because she was going to be married and therefore could have her own dog), greeted her joyfully, jumping up on her dress, and who cared now? Up the stairs—the photographer had taken her picture here just about an hour ago, back in the olden days.

Her bridesmaids—former bridesmaids—were close on her tail.

“Here,” Honor said once they were in Faith’s room. “Let me help you get undressed.”

“I think—I think I’d like to be alone,” Faith said. Wow. Her voice sounded so strange.

The three of them swapped a glance. “You’re not gonna kill yourself or anything, right?” Pru asked.

“Good God, no. Just...just give me a little while.”

Surprisingly, they obeyed, closing the door quietly behind them. Faith sank onto her bed, the tulle skirt puffing around her like dandelion fluff. There was her big red suitcase, all packed for the honeymoon, the tickets to San Francisco peeking out of the side pocket.

Hello Kitty ticked away the minutes from the bureau. She could hear the rumble of her father’s voice through the open window as he talked to someone. Mrs. Johnson was banging around in the kitchen—distress cooking, they called it when she was upset. From down the hall came the sound of Abby’s sobs—poor kid. Jeremy wouldn’t be her uncle, though she’d been calling him that for months now. Bragging about it.

Faith drifted over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her mascara was smudged under her reddened eyes, and her lipstick was gone. Face utterly white. But her hair had come out really great.

You know what else? She’d dieted for two months to get to this weight, even though Jeremy assured her he loved her just the way she was. Jeremy, who was gay. Gay men liked curvy women. There you go. Shoulda known.

This morning, Faith had been the luckiest girl in New York State, if not the universe. Everyone thought that, especially her. Now, at 12:44, she was the woman who didn’t know her fiancé was gay.

How could she not have known? They slept together. A lot! Okay, well, maybe not a lot, not as much as she would’ve liked or as much as her friends seemed to sleep with their boyfriends, but they’d been in college, hello? In separate states! And then in grad school, also in separate states! And then, this past year...well, still not so much.

Justin Timberlake.

Holy futtocks.

All this time, she thought they were happy. All this time, Jeremy, her wonderful, sweet, thoughtful Jeremy, had carried this secret alone.

Well. Levi knew. She guessed he’d told Levi.

She stood up and started to take off her wedding dress. It was impossible. All those damn little covered buttons and loops...Jeremy was supposed to have unbuttoned them, slowly, lovingly, and you know, yeah, she’d thought that once they were married and getting pregnant would be a joy and not an oops, their sex life would take off. It had always been fine. It’d been fine! But marriage, she’d just known, would only improve it.

Here she’d been lying naked with Jeremy Lyon, totally in love, believing him when he said she was beautiful and perfect, when he’d been thinking of Justin Timberlake dancing around in a hoodie. And while that was an entirely appealing image, the man she loved shouldn’t have been cramming it into his head to block out her. You know what? Justin Timberlake wasn’t even that good. Totally average. How dare he occupy Jeremy’s mind during sex?

Faith’s phone buzzed. Goggy, said the screen, featuring a photo of her scowling grandmother. Faith let it go to voice mail. A minute later, the phone chirped with a text. She looked. Pick up the damn phone. A second later, Goggy’s face scowled at her again.

It’d be easier to talk to her grandmother than dodge the calls. Goggy was a slab of granite when she wanted to be. “Hi,” Faith said.

“Go on your honeymoon,” Goggy said firmly. “Get out of here for a while.”

Faith was silent. At the moment, she couldn’t imagine standing up, let alone getting on an airplane and flying across the country.

“Do it, Faith,” Goggy said, her voice more gentle. “Spend a little time away from home, see the world.”

The words were horribly familiar, cutting right into the middle of Faith’s heart.

“You have the tickets, right? Use them. Go to San Francisco, honey, and just be away from all of this.”

If that wasn’t a rope, Faith didn’t know what was. “Okay,” she whispered.

“I’ll drive you.” Goggy sounded triumphant, but she was the type who never quite managed to hit forty mph on the highway.

“That’s okay. You stay here. I’ll get someone else. And, Goggy...” Faith’s voice broke. “Thank you.”

“I’ll call you tonight, sweetheart.”

Goggy was right. She couldn’t stay here. Jeremy couldn’t leave, and she couldn’t stay. Jeremy was her next-door neighbor, albeit a mile down the road. She’d see him everywhere.

And at this moment, that thought was unbearable.

Add to that, Manningsport had 715 people in it. Everyone now knew that Faith Holland was too stupid to realize her fiancé was gay. Nope, I didn’t suspect, they’d say. Not the way that kid threw the ball...but I didn’t sleep with him, either! Heh heh heh!

Her zombielike state shattered abruptly. She grabbed her suitcase and yanked open the door, flew down the stairs, her dress rustling against the family photos, knocking them askew.

Justin Timberlake. She hated Justin Timberlake.

Just as she got to the bottom, a quiet knock came at the front door. She jerked it open, out of breath.

Ah. The other man she hated. Levi Cooper, Wedding Destroyer. “You,” she hissed.

He was still in his dress uniform, his chest full of ribbons and medals. Mr. Hero. “Jeremy sent me to check on you.”

“Take me to the airport,” she ordered.

His eyebrows rose, crinkling his forehead a little. “I don’t know about that.”

“Do what I say, Levi,” she said.

“Listen, you’re probably not—”

“Shush. Just take me there.”

Her father came up on the porch. “Faith, sweetpea, I was just coming to check on you. How are you, honey? This is such a shock, I don’t know what to—”

“Daddy, I’m going to San Francisco. Okay? I’ll call you when I land.”

“Wait a second, sweetie, slow down,” he said, glancing at Levi. Why? Why glance at the guy who ruined her wedding and kept Jeremy’s secret, huh? “I think you should stay here, baby, with your family. This is a tough, tough day, but we’ll get you through it.”

“I’m going to San Francisco. I have tickets,” Faith said.

“Faith—”

“I—I—I—I have to get out of here, Dad,” she stammered, the hyperventilating starting up again. “I’ll just go to San Fran. Remember Liza? My friend from college? She lives there, so I won’t be alone. I’ll call her. She’s really fun. Okay? Call you later.”

“Now, Faith, this doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“Daddy, I need to get out of here. I’m going.”

“All right, all right. Settle down. Just...if you want to go, give me a minute, and I’ll pack some things and go with you. Okay?”

“No. I’m going alone. Right now. I have to get out of here or I’m going to lose my shit, Dad.”

Her father looked startled. That’s right, Daddy, she thought irrationally. Don’t mess with me right now.

“Well, I’ll drive you. Don’t be silly, baby.”

“No. He’ll take me. Won’t you?” She narrowed her eyes at Levi, wishing looks really could kill.

Levi cleared his throat. “Is that all right, Mr. Holland?” he asked.

“Don’t ask him,” Faith snapped. “I’m giving you an order, soldier. Get to it.”

“Watch it,” he muttered.

“Faith, it’s not his fault,” her father said. She turned her eyes on him, and he actually held his hands up in defense. “Sweetie, I really think you need to take a few days at least—”

“I’ll call you when I land.” She kissed her father’s cheek, and the horrible weight crushed down again. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry about all this. I’ll pay you back.” The tears threatened again. No, no. Not now. Bottle and cork. She could fall apart later.

Then she tromped down the porch, stepping on the hem of her dress and tearing it. So what? She should burn the damn thing, right along with her own white hoodie (which had been a gift from Jeremy, ack!).

There was Levi’s car, a cheap rental with Michigan plates. She got in, stuffed the stupid dress down and gave Blue a few pats on the head as he tried to climb in with her. She wished she could take him. Hang on. She could take him. Dr. Buckthal had told her that some dogs could sense an oncoming seizure, and she’d had Blue registered as a service dog, more because she wanted to be able to take him with her wherever she went than because she thought she might need him. But he was registered all the same.

“Wait a second,” she said and went inside the house. Her sisters were there, Coll and Mrs. J., too, murmuring, asking, talking, but it was all white noise. She rummaged in the file drawer where she kept Blue’s records, and voila. Grabbed the paper, turned to the rest of them. Everyone was talking, offering advice, pats, trying to hug her, but they were like birds, fluttering around her head, and she waved them off.

“Look,” she said, her voice wobbling. “I’m gonna go to California for a few days. Maybe take that honeymoon solo, I don’t know. But I love you all, and I’m so sorry about this...fiasco. I’ll call you, but right now, I have to get out of here.”

“Let me drive you, Faithie,” her brother said, his voice so kind that her eyes swam again.

“I’ll come with you,” Pru offered.

“Nope. All set. Thanks, though.” She grabbed Blue’s leash, figured he could eat hamburgers until she bought him dog food, then went back out to the car, where Levi was waiting. Blue leaped in the back, smiling and wagging, and thank God the dog couldn’t speak, because honestly, if someone else said something kind or nice to her, she was going to lose it.

Levi Cooper would not be nice to her. She could take that to the bank.

The rat bastard got in, started the car and gave her father a wave. She waved, too, her head fizzy with adrenaline.

She’d fly to San Francisco, stay at the Mark, where she and Jeremy had been booked for four nights, their wedding gift from his parents. Liza could come, and they’d drink the honeymoon champagne, and, hell, maybe they’d take that Napa wine country tour, too.

She didn’t look at Levi, and he didn’t talk. Too bad he hadn’t been stricken mute on the altar.

She stared out the window, cushioned in a bitter fog. Occasionally, people would see that she was wearing a big white dress or that Levi was in his dress blues, and they’d beep their horns and wave. Her face felt carved out of stone.

After an eternity or so, they got to the swooping Buffalo-Niagara Airport, so oddly beautiful, and went in. People congratulated them. She didn’t answer. For the first time since her mother died, she didn’t try to be nice to anyone. Just showed her ID and her ticket and passed through the gate, getting some odd looks from the screeners. Guess they hadn’t seen a jilted bride yet. “My fiancé turned out to be gay,” she said to one. Blue woofed and wagged his tail.

“Oh, wow,” the woman said. “You didn’t know?”

“No. He did, though,” she said, jerking her chin at Levi. Then she put on her ridiculously pretty shoes, grabbed her carry-on—damn, it was heavy—and went to the waiting area at her gate, which was only about ten yards away, and sat down. Looked at the clock. Seven hours till her flight. Maybe she’d have a seizure to pass the time. Stress brought them on sometimes. It’d be better than sitting here, having to think about Jeremy. Just the thought of his name caused a sob to heave in her chest. Blue flopped down on the floor, wagging his tail as a toddler passed him.

Levi was talking to someone. You’re not a ticket-holder, asshole, she thought. So, there. But, no. He was telling the screener all sorts of things, scraps of his words floating to her—wedding fell through, her friend, don’t want her waiting alone.

Her friend. What a crock that was. But Mr. Hero got through; who could turn down a guy in uniform, home on leave from the war on terror? He came toward her now, his eyes resigned, mouth in a straight line.

Before he got to her, Faith wrapped Blue’s leash around the chair leg and got up and went to the ladies’ room, dragging her suitcase with her. The handicapped stall was the only one big enough with this ridiculous dress. She reached back and yanked at the buttons, yanked harder, tearing a few loops, then wriggled free, hopping, banging her shoulder against the wall. Out of the white merry widow and stockings, out of the beautiful white shoes that peeped so endearingly from under her skirt. She’d packed all sorts of cute underwear, adorable bra and panty sets, silky short nighties. Pretty little outfits for daytime, lovely dresses for those romantic dinners she and Jeremy wouldn’t be having.

She changed into some yoga pants, a tank top and sneakers—she’d been planning to exercise on her honeymoon to keep the extra pounds off, not be one of those wives who immediately began letting herself go the second the wedding was over. Oh, no. Not her.

Then she wadded up her dress and banged out of the stall. Paused, debating whether or not to stuff it into the trash. What does one do with a wedding dress when one has been jilted? Yes, Martha Stewart or Miss Manners or Amy Dixon, what does one do? One certainly doesn’t want to preserve it for one’s daughter, not when one won’t be having a daughter any time soon, since one’s fiancé is gay.

She remembered calling Jeremy after she’d bought the dress. Daddy had taken all of them to Corning, to a beautiful bridal shop, and the very first dress she’d tried on had brought tears to his eyes. She’d called Jeremy to tell him mission accomplished, and he’d said, his voice warm and loving, that he knew she’d be the most beautiful bride ever, because she had the most beautiful heart. (Gah! How could she have thought he was straight?) Then she’d talked to his mom, to tell her all the details, and Elaine had been so touched that she’d cried.

Oh, lordy. There were those strange choking noises again.

She didn’t throw the dress away. She couldn’t. Instead, she walked out of the bathroom, the dress under her arm, dragging the suitcase behind her. Levi was watching the door, talking on the phone, to Jeremy, no doubt. Because those two had no secrets. He hung up as she approached.

“Do something with this,” she said to Levi, shoving her dress against his chest and continuing on to a row of hard plastic chairs where her dog waited.

In six hours and forty-three minutes, she’d be out of New York.

Levi sat next to her, stowing her dress under his chair. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. How long have you known?” She didn’t look at him.

Levi didn’t answer for a minute or two. Finally, she kicked his foot and glared at him. He looked bored. How dare he look bored? The bastard!

“I guess I always knew.” Blue rolled onto his back, letting them know he was available for tummy-scratching any time.

“Really. You knew from the minute you met him.”

“Pretty much.”

“How?” she demanded, looking at his face. “Did he try to kiss you, something like that?”

“Nope.”

“But you just knew.”

“Yep.”

“And you never said anything?”

Levi shrugged. “I asked him about it once. He said he wasn’t.”

“Really? Well, what about me, Levi? Did you ever think to say something to me? Huh?”

He deigned to look at her, his green eyes expressionless. “People believe what they want to believe.”

“Well, you know what?” she said, her voice rising. “You should’ve tried. I love Jeremy! I love him! I’m so in love with him, it kills me! Don’t you get that?” Blue barked, backing her up. Blue loved Jeremy, too. Great. Another victim in the war.

“I believe you,” Levi said. “Maybe you could quiet it down a little, though, huh?”

“Why? Am I embarrassing you? Am I making a scene? Don’t you know what it feels like to have your heart ripped open? Do you have any idea? My whole life is gone! You took that away! You just had to say something, didn’t you? You had to open your mouth!”

Then she was crying, so hard she was choking, and she jammed her hands into her hair and bent over, the sounds coming out of her alien and horrifying. How would she get over Jeremy? What kind of a life was she going to have without him? Already she missed him so much it was as if someone had shoved a hot poker through her heart. Blue nudged against her, and she buried her head against her dog’s neck.

She felt Levi’s arm around her shoulders and shrugged him off. Like she’d allow him to comfort her.

“I hate you,” she managed to say, the words strangled on her sobs.

“Yeah, well, win some, lose some,” he muttered, folding his arms and sighing.

“Just go.”

“I told Jeremy I’d stay.”

And, of course, Jeremy wouldn’t want her here alone. Because even now, he was trying to take care of her. Even now, Jeremy still loved her. And was gay.

The crying was endless, as if she was being punched in the chest with each breath, tears pouring out of her eyes, which Blue licked away, whining. People probably thought she was mentally unstable; she sure as hell felt that way. Her rational thoughts were just distant pings; it seemed like she was being sucked under by waves of grief and shock, barely able to breathe.

Levi got up—probably to ask someone for a tranquilizer—and returned with a roll of paper towels. “I couldn’t find any tissues,” he said, taking his seat once more. Blue had given up and was sleeping, his head on her foot. She grabbed the roll and blew her nose, then took a few more and mopped at her face. The tears kept falling.

And now Levi was looking at her with those eyes of his that always seemed to be so bored with her. “Look, Faith, I know this is hard for you. But would you rather be married to a gay man?” he asked calmly.

“Yes! In the case of Jeremy, yes! You didn’t do me any favors, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t thinking of you,” he said, glancing out the window.

“No. You were being the world’s best friend, outing Jeremy on the altar during our wedding. Well done, Levi. Really. Maybe you’ll get another medal.”

“Faith,” he said, “let me ask you a question. What were you thinking during the wedding? Because your face was as white as your dress, and Jeremy was sweating blood. It was a disaster waiting to happen. And if it did, he never would’ve left you.”

“We would’ve made it work.”

“That’s ridiculous. You both would’ve been trapped.”

“You can shut up now.” Her jaw ached from clenching.

“Someday, you’ll be glad you didn’t marry him.”

“I’m thinking about kicking you in the nuts, Levi. Shut. Up.”

Finally, he did. Her eyes stung from tears, and more tears kept flowing. The paper towel she’d used to wipe her face was smeared with makeup.

Soon, she’d be away. She’d be away from horrible Levi, away from the town where everyone was talking about her, away from Jeremy and his beautiful eyes and happy face.

She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, was only aware that her eyes were burning, her head heavy. At some point, she slid down in the chair, and there was something under her cheek. A hand on her shoulder.

She woke groggily. Someone was shaking her gently. “Time to go, Faith,” a voice said.

Levi. Right. Her head was in his lap. She sat up, wincing. Felt as if she’d been beaten with a golf club. Blue was on his feet, tail wagging. “I took him out about an hour ago,” Levi added.

“Passengers in first class may begin boarding,” the airline person was saying. “This is American Airlines flight 1523, direct to San Francisco. First-class passengers, please begin boarding.”

Thank God. She stood up, adjusted her shirt and ran a hand over her head. She’d forgotten to take her hair down; it was still in the complicated and beautiful twist from this morning.

Levi stood as well, and she managed to look as far as his chin. “Tell him I’m doing all right, okay?” she said, then tightened her grip on the dog’s leash.

“Lie, you mean?” he said, with a small flash of a grin.

She didn’t return it. “Yeah.” She took the handle of her suitcase and started over to the gate.

“Faith?”

She looked back at him.

His brows were drawn, his face serious. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted.”

Said the man who ruined her wedding. “Take care of yourself, Levi,” she said wearily. “Don’t get hurt over there.”

And with that, she and her dog boarded the plane.