Page 111 of Deliverance

I’d taken longer than I would have preferred to write back Bridgette. With the end of the school year coming, things have been crazy, and I didn’t know how to respond, honestly. We were talking about what we were planning to do now that it was officially summer. Almost one year exactly from the time our parents got married. God, how has it already been a year? And yet, it’s been the longest year of my life.

Bridgette made a comment in her last letter about us getting a place for the summer together. She doesn’t want to be under her father’s roof any more than I want to be under my mother’s. With Asher’s official ‘decree’ of sorts, Bridgette is no longer engaged to Thomas, or at least, Harry can’t enforce it now, and we are both looking for alternative living situations. I didn’t know how to tell her that sounds like the best and the worst idea. There is a reason our main method of communication lately has been letters. I don’t trust myself around her. Even in the courtyard, it took everything in me not to pull her around the corner, wrap my arms around her, and worship every inch of her body. When I’m around her but can’t touch her, it physically hurts. But, if I distract myself enough, spend the whole day with Maryia and we miraculously avoid a drag out fight over stupid shit, I almost can temper the want.

Almost.

Fuck. I’m really delaying the inevitable, aren’t I? Maryia and I aren’t going anywhere, even now that we technically could without fear of repercussions. The fact of the matter is, I don’t love her. I never have, and I don’t see myself ever being able to. Bridgette aside, we just don’t fit. The sex is good, and she’s a sweet girl, most of the time, but all the other times? The jealousy and the snooping and the insecurities? We don’t…fit.

Of course, I think all of these big depressive thoughts in the middle of my best friend’s commitment ceremony. Despite being married to Asher, she never had a proper wedding. The guys really spared no expense despite it being a last minute thing. All five men are lined up and facing Sky with megawatt smiles on their faces, even Griggs.

I look behind me to see Maryia watching them with a dreamy smile. I’m the maid of honor, and Sky was nice enough to make Maryia a bridesmaid. It was, again, a huge ordeal, and while Skyla was trying on wedding dresses, Maryia began complaining that she wanted to stand up beside me. It was honestly so embarrassing, but my best friend, being the kind and graceful woman she is, welcomed Maryia with open arms.

My eyes have a mind of their own as they wander out to the crowd. Everyone is here, at least everyone that Skyla and the guys like, or can tolerate, that is. There is only one person I’m interested in looking at, though. She came in a soft blue silk dress with accentuating ruched lines, hugging every single soft curve she has to offer.

Goddamn, that is most definitely her color. Against her black hair and matching her eyes, she looks breathtaking. A hell of a lot better than I look, that’s for sure. It could be worse. I could have been forced to wear pink. Sky nixed the black bridesmaid dress I pulled out, saying it reminded her too much of funerals. That topic was fresh, so I waved my white flag and told her to pick whatever she wanted me in. She settled on a rich gold color. It’s okay, just not my usual style is all. Then again, dressesperiod,aren’t my usual style.

Bridgette’s eyes snap to mine in an instant, like she was waiting for me to look at her. I give her a soft smile and she gives me one in return.

I took longer than I wanted to send my next letter to Bridgette, but before I came to the church today, I slipped it under her door. I’m not sure if she got it before she left or maybe she’ll come home to it. It wasn’t a long letter; it was actually extremely short. Just one word.

Yes.

I recognize it’s a terrible idea. I understand I will no doubt be tempted more than a few times, but the way I see it, it’s economical, good for our mental health, and it might be nice to live together. Like having a live-in best friend of sorts. Someone who gets me, someone I know I can get along with well. Someone who?—

Snapping out of my thoughts, I see Ronan kiss Sky first before Liam snatches her up. Then Vincent, followed by Asher and Wesley. Damn, with a harem like hers, you have to wonder if the guys begin to feel jealous. There has to be an odd man out, right? Or at least you’d think. Looking at those grinning fools, though, I’d say they look to be just fine and dandy.

The happy group turns and smiles to the cheering crowd as Liam leans into her ear, whispering something to her.

“Better run, Siren,” Vincent says to her.

A look of mischief fills her eyes as she takes off running down the aisle, all five guys chasing after her. They are totally running off to consummate their union. You know what? Good for them. As they should.

The officiant smiles, speaking into the microphone.

“Alright, folks, if everyone can make their way to the grand ballroom, we have drinks and appetizers ready and waiting.”

That’s all it takes for most to hightail it out of there. I laugh to myself as Maryia grumbles under her breath.

“Seriously? We were supposed to take group photos now. They are throwing the entire schedule off to go have an orgy.”

I’m shocked as I turn to face Maryia.

“Well, I mean, it’s their wedding. They can do whatever they want.”

“And be inconsiderate to those who went out of their way for them?” she throws back.

I blink because, honestly, my flabber is gasted. How on earth is she able to make this about her right now? This is my best friend’s wedding day. If she wants to get every hole stuffed, some of them double stuffed, that’s her prerogative.

The few lingering people are beginning to stare, and I make quick work of ushering us off to the hallway. When we are finally out of range from others, I lose my shit.

“Okay, please tell me you’re just joking.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

“I mean, you can’t be this selfish! This narcissistic? This day is not about you, Maryia. Not everything in the whole goddamn world is about you!”

Her mouth drops open. “I’m sorry if I find it disrespectful for someone to not stick to an agreed upon schedule!”

“You should be sorry! This is their day, not yours. Your job is to smile, support the bride and shut the fuck up!” I snap.

---