Page 11 of The Note
The urge to go to him, to comfort him, to protect him, wasinsane.
And this really did not bode well for my mother’s little dream of me moving back to New York. I hadn’t been in the state three hours, and already I could feel myself becoming the same lovesick fool I’d always been in Tyler Turnbull’s orbit.
I couldn’t even say what it was about Tyler that got me. He was hot, yes, with his velvety gray-blue eyes, his golden skin, and the mischievous little grin that peeked out before he said something snarky. But the world was full of hot guys, and San Diego had a larger-than-average share. Still, every guy I’d been with since I moved away had been a placeholder.
It didn’t seem to matter to my stupid heart that I hadn’t been near the guy in over a year, or that entire miles of Arctic shelf had sunk into the sea and whole species had gone extinct since I’d first fallen for him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the same guy he’d been then, and neither was I. It wanted what it wanted.
We’d learned in medical school that the heart was a resilient muscle, but apparently mine hadn’t gotten the memo.
And how ironic was it that Tyler’s feelings for Alex seemed to be about the same? It was either a Shakespearean comedy or the saddest song Dolly Parton ever wrote.
Maybe both.
“Alrighty! Are you guys having a good time?” a deep, disembodied voice asked, cutting off the jazz music that had been playing. I looked around and saw the diminutive wedding planner waving his hand in the air near the head of the table. “You guys are great, and Marissa and Alex are so thrilled that their family and close friends could join them tonight for their rehearsal dinner! How good are those scallops, am I right? Nothing but the best for these two!”
Polite applause broke out and my mother and I exchanged a look that had me lifting a hand to smother my smile.
“Now, usually people wait until the actual wedding reception to toast the bride and groom before we send them off on theirhoneymoon.” The wedding planner beamed at Marissa, who blushed, and Alex, who wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. “But usually at bigger events, I find there are one or two friends or family members who’d prefer to address their remarks to the couple in a smaller, more intimate venue like this one. So, at this time I’d like to invite anyone who’d like to make a toast to…Oh. Yes. Okay.” The man nodded to someone at the table behind me, and made a come-hither motion with his fingers.
A woman stood and tugged at her white and pink dress, then nearly danced her way to the front of the tent.
“Hey, I’mJenny. I’m abridesmaid.”
Another woman cheered, and Jenny beamed.
“I just wanted to say, I’ve known Marissa since summer camp when we were, like, twelve? And, like, I remember her having a crush on her cute neighbor Alex even back then? And it’s so inspiring how much you two have overcome to, like, get where you are today?” Jenny sniffed deeply and fanned herself with fluttering fingers, like she was trying not to cry. “You guys are, like, theultimatedefinition of forever love.”
I coughed and looked at my lap, because laughter would be inappropriate, and considered texting Tyler again, just to hear his response. Tyler hated weddings nearly as much as I did.
“I’m just so happy,” Jenny continued, “that I — Hey!Wait. It’s not your turn! I’m not done!”
I looked up quickly at Jenny’s outraged tone anddidlaugh, because Tyler — hopped up on Chardonnay — was wrestling the microphone out of her hands.
My first thought was,Oh dear God.
My second, equally helpful, thought was,Christ, he looks good in that suit.
But then I saw the folded piece of notebook paper Tyler was pulling out of his pocket and my stomach body slammed against my rib cage so hard I was shocked no one else heard it.
“I have things to say,” Tyler yelled into the microphone, barely holding it away from Bridesmaid-Jenny, since the chick was maybe an inch taller than him in her heels. “I want to know whatalwaysmeans.”
I was on my feet before the last word was out of his mouth.
