Page 97 of The Wedding Crush

Avery shakes her head.

“Listen, I love that it’s just us,” I add.

“Me too.” She smiles.

“For that matter, I don’t welcome everyone’s opinions about us. The mere idea that anyone would think what we have is some reactionary rebound because my ex moved on… I hate even the idea of it. And I know I shouldn’t think about the optics, but I want to love you without limits or outside speculation, if that makes sense.”

Avery seems to consider this.

But then her shoulders tense and her expression smooths.

“Is that what we are, a rebound?”

“Of course not.” I feel like an idiot.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that outing ourselves to everyone is only Avery’s surface-level concern, and there’s something so much deeper bothering her. Possibly, this question was a test, and I’ve failed, so I’ve lost access to the real concern.

“Jesus, no. I hate the fact that word is even on your tongue. I’m in love with you, Avery.” I scrub a hand over my face, groaning. “What we have… I’ve never felt passion and purpose so fierce. Please don’t ever doubt that,” I bite out.

“Okay,” she says softly.

Please believe me.

But as she worries her lips, I know I’ve put my foot in my mouth with this. Instead of taking her lead, I had to go and bring up Carina, planting doubt in Avery’s mind about us.

My God.

“When did you imagine telling everyone?” I ask, circling back. I’m futilely trying to get this runaway train back on the track.

Avery starts to speak again, then she seems to reconsider, and I feel compelled to fill the silence.

“We’ve got the bachelor and bachelorette parties coming up, then it’s the wedding. What’s a couple more weeks?” I reason.

She lowers her chin briefly, and says, “No, it’s fine. We can wait.”

My pulse throbs.

The next five minutes pass in a blur of wedding-related questions about the upcoming parties.

I feel her guards raising, and suddenly, I’m wading through every interaction we’ve shared trying to determine where I went wrong.

When the timer goes off, her agenda immediately appears on the screen.

“Now, let’s get down to details,” she says, and I know she’s disengaging from the conversation.

I’ve made her uncertain about us, and there’s nothing more I can say.

The muscles at my jaw harden and jut out at the sides as Morgan and Dante join the meeting.

There’s no time to catch my bearings.

For the rest of the meeting, I only chime in as needed. I listen to Avery go on about how we’ve successfully gotten the guest list down to fifty-two people.Not the goal, but close enough.Then she goes on to confirm the times and dates for the bachelor’s Paintball and Pints.

After she provides Morgan with the pickup time for the party bus to Bramoso, she zips through a few more housekeeping items, including their Mediterranean cruise honeymoon itinerary and flight, confirming vows are finished (or in progress, in Dante’s case), my cousin Enzo’s arrival for his officiant duties, and marriage license pickup.

All the while, it’s on the tip of my tongue to confess my love for Avery to them.

But then she says, “Anything else you want to add, Stefano?”

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