Page 115 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 2

“If the two ladies swap partners, it looks better visually. You’re going to have to trust me on this. I’ve been organizing weddings for years, and the photos are what remain long after the vows. Let’s make Cammie’s look the best they can.”Fuck that.

Tealey huffs, but then her grip loosens. Looking up at me, she swallows, and then says, “She’s probably right. You and Marlow are the better match.”

“I disagree,” I whisper. She gives me a look to go along with it and turns away. Why is it that every time we think we’ll be together, something intervenes?

She’s handed her bouquet and then looks back once she’s on Jackson’s arm. The planner shuffles them out the door before I can tell her that my love for Tealey matters more.And I fucking oppose the planner’s decision.I prefer Tealey standing next to me over any other woman.

Marlow straightens her shoulders. “This is also better for appearances.” Marlow beside me, even for Cammie’s benefit, feels wrong.

I look at her in disbelief. “Fuck appearances. I’m done playing games with you. He bought the apartment. You got what you wanted.”

She arches a perfectly manicured brow. “You did too. Don’t forget that.”

The planner gives my shoulder blade a little shove, and we start walking. With each step, my annoyance at Marlow and this entire situation continues to build.

Something about her tone makes it seem as if I owe her father something for making partner—if I make partner. And as we pass Bob Marché while we step down the aisle, I realize something: my partnership has nothing to do with him.

I’ve busted my ass for years. I’ve worked myself into the ground. I’ve put my heart and soul into my work, and while Bob’s divorce may have helped me get there in the end, I would’ve gotten there anyway.

And Marlow would’ve too. I glance at her profile. She’s come a long way over the past year. She may be flippant, and she may be shallow, but she works hard. She tries to do the right thing. And she’s a good friend and a good person. Her metamorphosis was intentional, and she lost a little bit of that today on the beachwith her father and Lorie. She fell back into a persona she’s tried so hard to shed.

“You know what?” I ask quietly. “That’s bullshit.”

“What’s bullshit?” she whispers and then flashes a forced smile at someone in the audience.

“I worked for my promotion. I’ve worked for it longer than the past couple of months. If I get partner, it has nothing to do with you or your dad. Don’t get it twisted.”

She stutter-steps. Her long blond hair is twisted up in the back, restraining it from swinging through the air as she whips to look at me while we cross the deck. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You know what’s wrong. That crossed every fucking line in my book.” I stop on the grass. “This is not who we are, Marlow. Don’t let your dad and stepmom drag you back into a version of yourself that you left behind. On purpose.”

A clearing of the throat grabs our attention. The planner grits her teeth. “Go.”

Marlow sighs heavily but takes my arm again, and we start walking. Through tight smiles, we continue fighting, though. She says, “Not everyone is handed?—”

“Don’t go there.” I set my eyes on Tealey, standing at the altar, waiting for me just like she said she would be. She had faith this would all work out in our favor. She believed in me. But I’ve failed her in so many ways.

A slight sadness lingers in Tealey’s eyes at seeing Marlow and me coming down the aisle together, and it feels like a knife through my heart.

This should not be happening. I should not have put her through this.

Any of this.

“I’ve sacrificed more than you’ll ever know to play along with your charade.”

“Like what?” I can hear the eye roll through her tone.

“The love of my life.”

36

Tealey

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

The wedding photos took forever, but once they were done, enough time had passed for Rad and Marlow to cool off. Although Jackson and I have made wild guesses, neither of us feels we should broach the situation with either of them just yet.

“They argued all the way down the aisle,” I say. “Now they don’t appear to be on speaking terms. What should we do?”

---