Page 7 of This Love
Chapter 3
Tucker
Something was wrong.
I waited in a small meeting room at the country club. It had a view of the green, where the wedding would be held.
The guests had assembled, sitting on white chairs beneath a large pavilion to protect them from the late afternoon sun.
Fans in each corner blew a fine mist over the rows.
“You seem nervous all of a sudden,” Bill said, his hands clasped behind his back in a sharp black tux.
“Ava said she would text when they arrived, but it’s ten minutes until we walk out, and she hasn’t.”
Bill moved closer, our ghosted reflections side by side. I barely recognized us, all spit-shined and formal. We hadn’t looked like this since prom.
“Maybe she forgot. You know Vinnie is taking a million pictures. She probably doesn’t have her phone with her. Wedding gowns don’t exactly have pockets.”
I was sure he was right, but at the same time, Ava knew how I worried. And a day like today was extra risky for her. For me, too, for that matter. Stress and seizures liked to walk the same path.
We’d had a good run since Ava’s new med a few years ago. That was why she was willing to get married. She hadn’t forgotten who I was in a long time, hadn’t wanted me to move out, to avoid her having to live with a stranger.
Things were good.
I hoped they were still good.
She was never late. Never left me hanging about her whereabouts, her safety. Not in all the weddings she’d photographed or the times she went to Houston to see her father.
Fuentes entered the room, holding three beers. “Libations to get us through the ceremony. Bottoms up, pendejos.”
Drinking was about the last thing I wanted to do right now, but I took one and pretended to take a swig to humor him.
Fuentes downed half of his in one go, nodding as he looked around the room. “This place is swank. It’s an open bar, right? Damn, this is going to be a fun night.”
Bill glanced my way, and I shrugged. Maybe Fuentes wasn’t an ideal choice for a groomsman. I guess I could have gone with Big Harry. But Fuentes was the coworker who made Jiffy Lube bearable. He’d been around long enough to know what I’d gone through with Ava. Loving her even when she didn’t know me.
I checked my phone for the hundredth time. “Should I text her?”
“Sure,” Bill said. “But we’re down to the wire.”
We waited by the window. Jules, the wedding coordinator, headed toward the back door, treading carefully over the turf in her break-neck heels. Ava’s dad had hired her to attend to all the details, not wanting Ava to feel any anxiety about the day.
“Go grab her and see if she’s checked in with Ava,” I told Bill. “She knows everything.”
“I’ll say,” Fuentes said. “I didn’t even have to tell her my shoe size. She already had it down. She’s freaky as hell.” He peered into his empty bottle. “Hot, though. I’d tap that.”
Bill headed for the door right as my phone buzzed.
“Hold up,” I said.
It was a message from Ava’s dad.
Marcus: Seizure. Still down. In limo.
My stomach fell. I dropped onto a chair.
Me: How long?
