Page 18 of Reckless Encore

She hadn’t been upset to find only Leah and Ryan had showed. That part had never worried her. She had never cared about formalities. That was why she’d chosen the perfect location instead of the perfect wedding. They weren’t Muslim, so this morning could only ever be a commitment ceremony. And that had always been enough. Sean’s possible reaction had been her biggest concern, and after what she’d witnessed moments ago, the apprehension had been justified. He had slipped into his old ways, focusing on what his friends thought about him rather than standing on his own two feet.

She stupidly thought they had both gotten past their confidence issues. She knew she had because Sean had been the one to help her ditch the veil of embarrassment over the hideous scar marking her thigh. He’d been the one to help her see that the mangled flesh didn’t define her beauty.

Nobody could define her.

She sniffed again and remained still at the sound of approaching footfalls. He closed in on her peripheral vision, his shoulders slumped, his head heavy.

Through all the pain and rejection, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He wanted his friends to share his enthusiasm. But Mitch and Alana had a kid now. Gabi and Blake, too. And when it came to work, Leah and Mason were only getting busier.

“How bad is it?” he asked, stopping beside her.

“What do you mean?” Her voice was barely audible, her throat too tight to speak.

He sat down, copying her position to stare out at the water. “How bad is it between us?”

She sucked in a deep, clarifying breath and let it out slowly. She couldn’t be mad at him. What she felt had no resemblance to anger. The sensation taking over her insides was pure disappointment. “We’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want us to be okay,” he whispered. “I need us to be better than that. How do I make that happen?”

“I just…” His remorse sank into her, making it difficult to hold resentment.

“Just what? Talk to me. Yell at me.”

“You don’t need me to yell at you.” Not even when he was at his worst. He had a good heart. That was what she fell in love with, and continued to do on a daily basis.

“Yeah. I guess not.” He nodded slowly. “Having you not talking to me is more of a punishment.”

She squinted against the sun’s reflection and wished she could be in there, under the water. She wanted to block everything out. The heartache. The shock. If only they could go back to last night and prepare better. “I want to go home.”

“I understand.” He sounded broken. Stripped bare. Even more so than her own turmoil. “Am I allowed to come with you?”

She closed her eyes and fought against another sniff. “This is a fight, Sean. Nothing more. I’m not leaving without you.”

The gentle lap of water against the jetty became a haunting sound. For once, she felt disconnected to him. The void between them had grown deep in mere minutes.

“You wouldn’t have cared if we were the only two there, would you?”

She didn’t answer. He should’ve already known. Her excitement for the commitment ceremony would have been the same if they were in a broken-down chapel in the middle of nowhere with a toothless priest and a decrepit organist to stand in as their witness.

She didn’t need attention or validation from anything external. Her love for this man was all that mattered. Unfortunately, it had become clear they had entirely different views on the matter.

“Red?”

“I planned on vowing the rest of my life to you, Sean, and none of my friends or family could’ve changed that. Yes, their attendance would’ve been nice, but nothing they could’ve said or done would’ve stopped me from being the happiest woman in the world this morning. Not if they didn’t show. Not even if they didn’t give us their blessing.” She rubbed her nose to relieve the tingle. “My love for you isn’t reliant on anyone else but you.”

He released a heavy sigh. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

She nodded.

“And telling you how absolutely gorgeous you are right now isn’t going to help, is it?”

She turned to him with a scowl. “My nose is probably bright red, my mascara would be a mess, and I’m sure my lipstick is smudged. So, no, the placation wouldn’t be appreciated.”

“It isn’t a placation.” His brows pulled tight. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Red. I’ve never seen you so beautiful. And I’ll never forgive myself for not telling you sooner.”

She didn’t want to believe him. Not when he was already half an hour late with the compliment. But the way he said it with such pained conviction made the words penetrate her heart.

“You’re such a sweet talker,” she muttered, not appreciating how easily he’d started to slink his way to forgiveness.

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