Page 2 of His Relentless Angel

“No, it wasn’t,” I say, still giggling.

“Sure it was.” Isaiah grabs my hand again. “Come on, let’s dance.”

Shayla and James laugh like they heard a funny joke when I stick one of Isaiah’s hands on my frilly cap-sleeved shoulder and place his other around my waist behind my back. I can hardly breathe as I copy his hand placement, though I have to reach really far up. This is even better than when he touched my cheek or when I held the crook of his arm as he walked Autumn and me down the aisle, one on either side of him, since he and Martin were James’s only groomsmen.

Isaiah is so tall that I have to tip my head all the way back to look him in his beautiful eyes…which he starts flicking up over my head the longer the song goes on and the closer I scoot toward him. We sway side to side as I stare and stare and stare at the man I’ve had my heart set on since we met a few months ago when James introduced him to the family right after he and Shayla revealed their relationship.

And I Love Her by The Beatles is playing. I know every word since The Beatles is Daddy’s favorite band. I replace every she and her in the lyrics with he and him as I sing the song in my head while we dance. I’ll have to remember to write down the title in my wedding planning notebook, which I keep hidden under my twin-sized mattress, so we can dance to it at our wedding. Isaiah will pull me right up against him and hold me close as we dance in front of all our guests. I’ll be able to sing every word out loud to him by then.

When the song fades, Isaiah flashes me a brief smile and drops his hands, thanking me for the dance. Before he can back away, I step into him and hug him tight around the waist with both arms.

It’s pure heaven.

I lay my cheek against his torso, the top of my head not quite reaching his chest, and beg, “One more song, love.”

“Uh, B?” He stands rigid and leans back, then taps my shoulder with one finger.

“Hmm?” I take a big sniff of his honey and some kind of wood-scented cologne, wishing I knew the name of it so I could buy some and spray it all over my bedroom and clothes.

“You should…” He tries to pull my arms away with a slight chuckle that doesn’t sound real, so I hug him tighter.

“Dance with me.” I try to get him to sway again while Marry You by Bruno Mars plays, but he’s become an immovable statue.

Above my head, he calls out to Daddy, his newest extra best friend, “I could use a little help here, Sherman.”

Daddy is an inch shorter than Isaiah at six-foot-four, but he’s heavier, and his footsteps boom across the wooden floorboards. He gently grips my upper arms from behind, and I want to kick him. “Hey there, sweetheart. How about a dance with your old man?”

“But I want to dance with Isaiah.” Between the both of them, they peel my arms off my love.

Isaiah quickly steps back out of reach. “Thanks, man,” he says to Daddy with noticeable relief, and I try not to sulk like I really, really want to. He laughs nervously, then hightails it off the dance floor without once looking back at me. I don’t understand what changed.

When Daddy spins me around and tries to get me to dance, I see Autumn behind him, laughing at me. Daddy shakes his silvery gray head like what am I going to do with this girl? and my bottom lip wobbles.

Shayla’s pale brows are suddenly pulled down with something that looks a lot like pity. So are James’s, whose thicker, black brows make it that much more obvious. Shayla leans toward us and whispers, “Are you ok, Bailey?”

Ignore it. Positive thoughts only. I roll my eyes and smile as wide as I can, pretending like Isaiah didn’t totally crush my heart. “Perfect. Why?”

I grab Daddy’s hand and allow him to move me across the dance floor while I hold back tears, subtly looking for Isaiah in the golden-hued reception hall with bouquets of pink and white flowers centered on the ten or so round tables filled with our extended family. Only James’s Aunt Carol is here since he didn’t invite any of his other family members, who are real jerks. I can’t find Isaiah anywhere.

At the end of the dance, I give Daddy a quick hug, though my arms don’t quite wrap all the way around his waist. I grip the material of my dress and slowly walk off the dance floor in my satiny ballet flats with my head held high and a bright smile instead of running across it like I want to. I stick my tongue out at Autumn when Mom isn’t looking, then push through the back door that leads outside into the sticky, Texas summer night to a chorus of cicadas buzzing in the trees.

I hold myself together long enough to make it to a concrete bench with a swirly design etched along the border set behind the reception hall at the edge of the clearing. I sit with my back to the venue, facing the dense thicket of pine trees, and cross my arms around my middle, forcing back my stupid tears. Stop it! Positive thoughts only, I remind myself, though it’s not working right now as the hazy feeling I sometimes get wells inside me.

I know it’s my older sister by the way she says my name in her quiet, angelic voice when Shayla sits beside me. I instantly snap my head up and try to beam at her when she strokes her hand down the length of my long, almost white-blonde hair, close to the same shade as hers.

“Are you ok? Really?”

I huff like I’m annoyed, even though I love my sister to death. “Oh my god, why do you keep asking me that? I’m fine.”

“It’s ok if you’re not. I know how much you like Isaiah.”

I roll my eyes just as I did on the dance floor. “Yeah, no, I’m really ok. He just…he…” I cross my arms higher over my chest.

“Bailey,” she says softly.

“What?” I snap and try to reel my temper back in.

“He’s too old for you. You’re only thirteen. He’ll never—”

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