Page 39 of The Wedding Run
“I’m sorry,” I say, even though I know it can't help.
“It's been a few years," he says. "I’m over it.”
Is he? He still seems affected by the loss. I nod in understanding, but I also know that you never fully get over that person and what you shared or imagined your life would be like. “We’re all amateurs in love, Luke. Until we get it right.”
“And how do you know when you get it right?” he asks.
I chuckle. “I have no idea. Maybe after thirty years, like your folks.”
We exchange a smile.
“Which,” I say, “is why I ultimately couldn’t marry Derek. I figured I needed to know more before I jumped off the matrimonial cliff.”
He steps off the porch and stands beside me, looking at the night sky that seems so vast. “And Derek…” he asks, “did he ever go along with what you wanted?”
I draw a slow breath, bracing myself for whether Luke will defend Derek or try to pump up his memory for me. Finally, I admit, “Derek chose the wedding venue. He chose the honeymoon location. Ohio.” I let that sit between us. “Ohio,” I repeat. “There’s nothing wrong with Ohio. I’ve heard it’s lovely. Saying this out loud, I can’t believe I just followed along. How lame is that?”
I brace for Luke to distort my confession into Derek’s virtues.
“I’m sorry.” But his tone is serious and sorrowful. “You can’t have an unequal relationship where one opinion or desire outweighs the other.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“For what?”
I shrug. “Hard to explain. Is that why you helped me? When you saw me on the highway in my wedding dress? You understood what it was like?”
He grins. “Can’t say I’ve ever run away in a wedding dress.”
“That would be a sight to behold.” My laughter rings out, and I clap a hand over my mouth. Our gazes lock.
“Thank you,” I say in a quieter voice.
“For?”
“You always make me laugh. And I’ve been needing that.”
“Any time, ma’am.” He bows in a courtly manner.
When he rises, he’s closer than I realized. Suddenly, I’m too aware of him: the intensity in his gaze, the warmth of his concern, his dimpled smile, and his broad shoulders. The woodsy scent of his cologne lures me toward him. Our smiles fade. There’s a beat, a moment, a breath of realization and anticipation.
There’s no one between us. There is no loyalty to a friend. No memories or regrets. Just us. And a ribbon of longing pulling us toward each other.
Then he moves away.
“You’re through the hard part,” he says, taking a few steps toward his truck before facing me. “Making the decision not to get married. Unless you’re doubting…” His non-question, very much an honest question, lingers between us. I remember his promise to Derek, and I make my intentions clear.
“I’m not doubting, Luke. Not at all. I made the right decision.”
For the briefest second, the corner of Luke’s mouth twitches into a self-satisfied smile. But then it’s gone. I must be imagining things in this magical place that has woven a spell around me.
“Well then,” he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Libby.”
And he’s gone, leaving me beneath the canopy of stars, surrounded by a chorus of crickets and the pounding desire of my heart.
CHAPTER 19
Libby
