Page 3 of Without You

“’Gratulations, Han Han!” Johnny shouts, using his nickname for her that she absolutely hates. “Super happy for you!”

“Uh huh. Thanks, John.”

“It’s Johnny!” Unlike Hannah who let the nickname slide, Johnny corrects her. More than likely just to be a shit.

“Whatever!” she snaps. “Just… leave,” she whispers, lowering her head. I’m sure she’s determined not to make a scene but that’s not really my style and she knows it. That’s why she keeps eyeing her guests, hoping that they aren’t paying attention. Too bad for her, they are. Why wouldn’t they be? This is their entertainment.

Reaching a hand behind me, I feel the object Johnny swiped on his way over here land in the palm of my hand and I bring it around, smirking at Hannah’s now horrified expression.

I lift the microphone to my mouth, tap it once to make sure it’s on, and spin around.

“Evening, everyone! I see a lot of familiar faces out there. Some new to me. I assume you’re on Cameron’s side, though, so I won’t ask for introductions. The rest of you, hope you’re doing well. Missed some of y’all.” I put my hand over my eyes even though there’s no sun or anything blocking me from seeing the person I’m looking for. “Uncle Zeb, where are ya?”

“Here, boy!” Uncle Zeb shouts. I look in the corner and there he sits, arm in the air waving away. “Come see me after you’re done here!” he yells as he stands up, points at me then, hands cupping his mouth, he shouts again, “Damn, it’s good to see you!” His wife is sitting next to him, shaking her head but laughing. Like I said, Hannah’s family loved me. Zeb is Hannah’s dad’s brother and the two together were fun as shit. How Hannah got such a princess complex is beyond my understanding. Her family might have had a lot of wealth, but they never acted like it. They don’t live in a fancy, expensive house. They drove cars until the wheels basically fell off.

“Will do,” I respond, pointing at him. I might not miss Hannah but damn, her family was fun. They really knew how to let loose on the weekends, but it wasn’t just about that. We would spend hours around a campfire cracking up over their antics as kids.

Johnny and Chad both chuckle and I flash a smile at Katie when I turn back around. She tips her bottle of beer in my direction and I tip my imaginary hat back to her. She returns a bright smile, her lips coated in deep red and her blonde hair pulled up into something fancy. She looks gorgeous. I always thought she was pretty. Beautiful, even. But now that the blinders are gone, I can’t understand for a second how I could have missed just how pretty she is.

“Can we please get on with this? You’re kind of interrupting my wedding reception, in case you hadn’t noticed, you as…tronaut,” she says, catching herself before cursing in front of her wedding guests.

“What’s wrong? You can’t just say the word asshole in front of all these people? Don’t think they cuss themselves? Forget to wear the mask for a good long second, did ya?” I tease, though it’s the truth. She might have left me because she thought she was too good for me, but I don’t forget for one second where it is she came from. May be why I got along so well with her family. Her daddy was a white-collar guy but didn’t act like it. Damn, that sounded judgmental even in my own head but I don’t know how else to explain it.

“Just get on with it. If you’re here to try to win me back, it’s obviously too late.” She places a hand on Cameron’s shoulder and then kisses him, keeping her eyes on me. I don’t miss her smirk as if kissing her husband in front of me will hurt me in some way.

I raise my eyebrows and hear Johnny whisper, “gross,” behind me. I chuckle at his truth. I might be here to be a shithead and interrupt their wedding reception, but it’s not because I want her in my life. I just couldn’t help myself. Like I said, she totally stabbed me in the back when she went after Cameron. She knew how I felt about him. My gut feeling? The marriage won’t last more than a few years and he’ll have cheated on her. It’s just the type of guy he is.

“Anyway, I came here because I wanted to congratulate the happy couple! What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with it is that I know you’re still butt hurt over the fact that I married someone else and you had to come here to try to get me back! It’s too late, in case you weren’t positive.”

“Butt hurt, huh? Do I look butt hurt to you? Think I’m all tore up over not calling you mine?”

“Don’t look butt hurt or tore up to me,” Chad says. I glance behind me and do a double take when I see he has a plate of food in his hand, shoveling some potatoes into his mouth. He points to the plate then leans over so he can see the not-so-happy bride and groom. “Good choice on the garlic mashed, Han Han. They’re fucking amazing. And this pork?” He leans back and lets out a loud, “Whoop! Have mercy!”

Ah, hell. The booze is definitely getting to him. The one who was supposed to keep Johnny and me in line is now off the rails completely. Fuck, I love my friends. They’re the best.

“Holy crap, y’all are so annoying! Just get on with it, already,” she half growls/half screams. Fists tight at her sides and face getting red. I don’t really mean to laugh but damn, it’s funny. Probably not my most mature moment, coming here and interrupting her reception, and I feel a twinge of regret for it. But I can’t let that get to me right now. Even though…

She’s pissed.

Like raging mad, pissed.

But she won’t show it, and I know this because in…

3…

2…

1…

She shakes off her anger, smiles, places a hand on her new husband’s shoulder, and looks down at him lovingly. It’s so classic Hannah, so predictable that it doesn’t even surprise me. Now, I have no doubt she doesn’t love him, but I see the façade she’s putting up. Hannah might love him. She might even be happy with him. But I can see in her eyes that he’s not the person she wants him to be. He’s not nearly man enough for her. She might want the appearance of being with someone who doesn’t get dirty for a living, but at the end of the day, I know without a shadow of a doubt that she wants a man in her life who can fix shit and take care of whatever she needs.

Probably makes me sound like a jerk, but fact is, his version of working hard is putting in forty-one hours rather than the standard forty. He doesn’t know the difference between a Phillips screwdriver and flat head screwdriver. His hands are softer than most women’s. I know this because I shook his hand once when I met him. He winced at the pressure from my completely normal handshake.

But, maybe I’m wrong and that’s what she was looking for all along and if that’s the case, I definitely wasn’t the right guy for her.

I smile wide. “There she is. Mask firmly in place so I can continue?”

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