Page 14 of When We Are Complete

And it’s not the first time I’ve asked myself that. Those questions, those regrets, they’ve haunted me for years, but she was gone, and I had a life here—Adele, my business, everything demanding my attention.

But seeing her now, so close, every inch of that old yearning comes rushing back, raw and relentless, as if no time has passed.

God, I still want her. I never stopped wanting her.

At the front of the room, Patrick and Emmy are saying their vows. It’s surreal seeing my old friend up there, marrying the love of his life, while I’m staring at the one who got away.

I steal another glance at Kelly, knowing I shouldn’t, but I’m fighting gravity. There’s a pull between us, the same magnetic force, as though she’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

But the way she’s sitting—her back straight, shoulders stiff—tells me everything I need to know. She doesn’t want to be here. Hell, she probably doesn’t even want to be in the same zip codeas me. I get it. After what I did, I wouldn’t blame her if she never wanted to look at me again.

I made my choice. I thought I was doing the right thing, proposing to Jenny when she told me she was pregnant, even though she and I had broken up months before and Kelly and I were back together, happier than we’d ever been.

I thought a clean break with Kelly would be easier on us both. But it didn’t make losing Kelly hurt any less, and I’ve regretted it ever since. And now, sitting here, just a few feet away from her, I feel every ounce of that loss like it happened yesterday.

Letting her go was the biggest mistake I ever made.

I shift again, gripping the edge of my seat and taking another burning sip of whiskey, trying to focus on Patrick and Emmy standing at the altar, but all I can think about is being this close to Kelly again.

But it’s hard to ignore the fact that every nerve in my body is screaming at me to go to her, to say something—anything.

“Patrick, you may kiss your bride,” the celebrant says, his voice festive. The crowd erupts into applause as Emmy and Patrick seal their vows with a kiss that’s straight out of a fairy tale.

I clap along with the rest of them because that’s what you do at weddings. You celebrate, even when your own heart’s twisted up inside. But my eyes drift again to where Kelly’s seated, also clapping politely.

The newlyweds make their way down the aisle, basking in their bubble of happiness, and I’m trying really hard to stay focused on what’s going on around me. But memories are relentless bastards, flooding back in high-definition detail—Kelly’s laughter, the way her dark eyes sparkled when she was fired up about something, the gentle curve of her spine, how it felt to be buried inside her.

“Congratulations!” I hear myself say as Emmy and Patrick pass by, their hands clasped together as if they’ll never let go.

I take another sip, the burn of the whiskey a welcome distraction from the hurt that’s lodged somewhere between my ribs. Everyone stands, the rustle of chairs and murmured conversations filling the air. I get to my feet, my gaze still on Kelly as she rises with the rest of the guests. Her back is to me, but all I can see is the way her hair shifts as she moves, the sway of her hips.

Inside the reception hall, I join the other Valiant Hearts boys at our table. Ethan has Blake tucked under his arm, one hand resting protectively on her swelling belly, while Liam and Mike are busy chatting with their dates. Antonio came stag, like me.

As the drinks keep flowing, I try to act normal, but I can’t keep it in any longer. I lean over to Liam, my voice low. “Did you know Kelly Charleston was back in town?”

Liam shrugs, barely looking up from his glass. “Yeah, I heard. Nora told Mom who told me. She moved in with Nora a couple of days ago.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, looking surprised. “We thought anything Kelly related was off-limits. Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?”

I glare at them both, frustration bubbling to the surface. “A heads-up would’ve been nice. I didn’t want to hear about new boyfriends. The fact she’s back in town is a big deal.”

Liam laughs. “Sorry, man. You okay?”

I force a shrug. They know it tore me apart to let her go. But I never told them how it gutted me, that I’m still not over her. I never told anyone. I kept that pain to myself, because what good would it have done?

“I’m fine.” Another sip. The whiskey doesn’t dull the ache. If anything, it makes everything sharper—I can see her sittingacross the room, laughing with Nora, clear as day. And I can’t keep my eyes off her.

But there’s nothing to do other than grab another drink.

We eat dinner and listen to speeches, me spending the entire night distracted and trying to drown my sorrows in the bottom of a whiskey glass. By the time most of the guests have left, I’m pretty drunk. Drunker than I’ve been in a long time.

Nora is nowhere to be seen. Kelly stands, slipping her coat over her shoulders, before she walks out of the reception room. I shouldn’t follow her. But I do.

“Hey man, just getting some fresh air,” I say to Antonio, who gives me a nod and turns back to Liam, who’s telling a dirty joke we’ve all heard twenty times before, but which always makes us laugh.

She walks through a side door, heading outside, and I find myself moving after her, stepping through the same door. The cool night air slaps me in the face, but it’s not enough to sober me. I spot her up ahead, moving through the inn’s gardens, and I’m following her before my stupid brain catches up with my body.

The pathways are lined with tall ornamental grasses that sway gently in the breeze, and clusters of fall trees fill the garden with fiery shades of orange, red, and gold. Everything smells earthy, all damp leaves and sea air.

---