Page 22 of Chasing You

MILES

PRESENT

I thoughtthe drive had prepared me. Boy, was I wrong.

Nothing could have prepared me for the way my heart surged in my chest when I saw Marina in that gorgeous forest green dress. The color drew the green out in her hazel eyes when they shone up at me, her eyes a mirror of her raging emotions.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for how much of an idiot I would feel standing across the aisle from her. Not being able to resist looking over at her every five seconds, without her glancing at me even once.

She’s always been determined. It just never occurred to me that she’d be so determined to pretend I didn’t exist. It should have occurred to me, I should haveexpectedit. After what I did, what other reaction would she have?

But I can’t get how the soft skin of her arms felt in my grip, how she didn’t even attempt to push me away, out of my head. Why did she do that? Why did she let me feel her again?

By the way all of Isla’s friends' eyes have been continuously flicking between Marina and me throughout the night, it's safe to assume they’re aware of our situation. But no one istreating me like I’ve done anything wrong, and it feels absurd. For whatever reason, I feel like it would be better if one of these guys punched me or gave me a hard word about screwing my head on straight, but none of them do. Maybe it’s because we are at a wedding, or maybe it’s because Marina told them not to, but regardless, I wish one of them would talk to me straight.

Maybe I should’ve brought Wesley as my plus one. He would’ve been in my ear going on about what a screw up I made, and that’s what I feel like I need right now. Not that I need anyone else to tell me what a mistake I made all those years ago, not with how devastating Marina looks. Not with the smile that beams across her face when Isla and Caio have their first kiss as a married couple. The smile I wish was directed at me.

That decision I made has played on my mind ever since I made it, but even more so in the last year. Watching my sister so happy with someone has only reminded me of what I gave up. But it was what I thought was my best option at the time, I couldn’t see another way forward. I was an idiot, that much is clear. And I went about it the wrong way, but leaving was the only option. I couldn’t carry on seeing her, not with the way we were together, not when I couldn’t commit to it. And even though I hated what I did, even though I missed her more than I’ve ever missed anything in my entire life, I always believed that walking away was the best decision for both of us. But now, standing in her orbit once again, I don’t know if I can still say that.

My focus draws to the middle of the ballroom, where my sister and Caio are now slow dancing. Everyone in the room has their eyes glued to the couple as they sway together. They’re beautiful. Isla is beautiful. I love seeing my sister so happy; I never quite understood how miserable she was at home until I saw her here with Caio.

While I look around the room, I can’t help but notice that I don’t know any of these people. I briefly met Isla’s friends last year, but it was nothing more than “how are you” kind of conversations. And as I take note of the adoring glances at the happycouple from all around the room, I’m realising just how much I’m not a part of my sister’s life anymore, even if we do have more phone calls now than we ever did. These people are her ride or dies now. Including the woman with dark curly hair that I see disappear out French doors onto the balcony.

One part of me feels like it’s the universe playing a sick joke, but the other part of me is happy that Isla has someone like Marina to be there for her. Someone who cares deeply, who loves fiercely and with her entire heart. That’s irreplaceable,I should know.

My body moves of its own accord as I begin to walk towards the doors, my heart banging against my chest at the mere thought of talking to her again. Of getting a quiet moment on this balcony where no one can hear us but the moon in the sky. I don’t know what I even want to say, but I stop when I reach the doorway, hearing the mumblings of a quiet conversation from the balcony.

She’s not alone out there.

I press myself up against the wall by the door. I should leave, give her and whoever she's talking to some privacy. But something stops me, and instead, I just hide here, trying to focus on the sound of her smooth voice over the sound of Mazzy Star filling the ballroom.

“Why do weddings have to be so fucking introspective?” I hear her ask, a sarcastic laugh finishing off the sentence.

I hear the sound of someone letting out a forceful breath. “I know what you mean,” a male voice says. Maybe Leo? One of the guys in their inner circle. “Are you perhaps thinking about a certain new bride’s brother?”

There’s a pause, a beat of silence before she says, “I’m thinking about whether I’ll end up like Nora.”

“What do you mean?” The voice has a lilt of amusement to it.

“I mean,” another pause, “am I gonna be one of those people who’s only ever the fun aunty? The one who everyone can rely on to babysit on date nights because it’ll just be me and my never-ending laundry pile for the rest of my life?”

“There’s always Riccardo?” That pulls a laugh from her, but it sounds different than it used to. Heavier maybe.

“I’m serious, Leo.”Ah bingo.“Do you ever feel like you’re being left behind? Like not by people, necessarily, but by life itself?”

It’s quiet again for a moment, and all I want to do is poke my head around the corner just to see the look on her face.

“Nah,” Leo says. “Because I’ve got you. I’ve got your hand to hold onto and you drag me through it. Just remember, you can hold onto mine as well.” For a second, I wonder if they’re more than friends, but surely Isla would’ve mentioned it? An irrational surge of jealousy floods my system, my veins are probably running green, even though I have no right to feel this way.Ileft.Iam the one who made things this way. I can’t be upset if she’s found someone who makes her happy, yet here I am.

My eavesdropping is interrupted by my heart jumping into my throat as my father appears in front of me. “What are you doing, son?”

He goes to peer around the corner but I grab his arm and drag him away from the balcony. “Nothing,” I say. “Just getting some fresh air.”

“Don’t you get enough of that up in the sky?”

I refrain from correcting my father’s lack of common sense in favour of getting as far away from that doorway as possible. I just huff a laugh instead.

“You know,” he starts. “I always wanted one of you kids to take on Beckett Accountancy. I always hoped that you would come around to the idea, and maybe you still will one day when you’re a bit older.” My dad talks like I’m seventeen, not twenty-nine, with nearly ten years' worth of career progression behind me. “But I hope you know how proud we are of you, son.” I clear my throat, my stomach doing that twisting thing it always does when the topic of my career comes up. “Isla’s painting is…you know,” he says with a tilt of his head and protectiveness shoots up my spine, “but you, you’ve really made something of yourself. All of those years of hard work paid off. Look at you now.”

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