Page 42 of Seven Year Itch
“You know what? It doesn’t matter what you said or what any of you said.” She flails her arms at all of us. “This is your brother’swedding day, and you’re all down here acting like a bunch of animals!” she hisses. “Your father would be ashamed of you.”
Fuck.
She could say anything but that.
“Mom, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Calder,” she says, holding her hand up to stop me from speaking. “All I want to hear is you turning to your brother and telling him you love him.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go on.”
My lips thin as I turn to Wyatt and stare at his brooding face all grumpy and stern, like a dad. Likeourdad.
He’s a dad.My throat tightens as I let that thought settle over me. My big brother is a dad. And about to become a husband. Of course I love him. Of course I’m fucking happy for him. I’m being a dick because of reasons that have nothing to do with him. Mom is right: this is his wedding day, and he doesn’t need my shit. He’s a good brother. A good man.Just like Dad.
My eyes soften as I inhale a deep breath. “I love you, man.”
He huffs and looks away, clearly not believing me.
I step closer to him and grab his shoulder. “I mean it. I love you, Papa Bear.”
He turns back to me, frowning as he silently asks me what the fuck all this is about.
“This is a me thing. Not a you thing. I love you, and I love Trista. And I love—” my voice catches in my throat “—I love lil Stevie. No matter what bullshit I might say in the heat of a moment, please don’t ever doubt that.”
Wyatt finally relaxes and nods, cupping his hand behind my neck and yanking me in for a hug. He claps my back, and I hate how much he evenfeelslike our dad. It makes me wish he was here more than ever. When I pull away, I look down to hide the tears in my eyes.
“We all miss him,” Max says, stepping in close and putting his hand on my shoulder.
And in a breath, I’m wrapped up in a hug by all three of my brothers as we mourn the man who should be here still to knock some sense into us.
“Dammit, now I have to go touch up my makeup,” Mom blubbers from behind us.
We spread apart as she wipes away the tears running down her face. I reach out and yank her into the center of our group embrace, causing her to squeak as we all squeeze her tiny frame a bit too hard. We’re dysfunctional at times, but no matter what, we’re still always family.
Dakota
“I, Trista, take you, Wyatt, to be my lawfully wedded husband...”
Trista and Wyatt exchange vows in front of a stunning pink-and-purple sunset. They stand beneath an archway draped with hanging white flowers and twinkle lights. Everything is perfect. From Trista’s simple, yet stunning white dress that showcases her beautiful body, to baby Stevie in a white fluffy dress lying in a wagon wrapped in flowers and tulle parked right beside her. Even Ethan is on his best behavior as the ring bearer, standing up by his uncle proudly in a matching cream linen suit and holding the rings in an adorable mini toolbox that Everly decorated for the big day.
It’s all so beautiful.
And if I continue gaslighting myself like this, I can even believe that maybe these two got it right. Maybe they will make it the long haul. Maybe they won’t end up like me, hating everything about the person they married because somehow, he made you lose sight of the person you once were. The person you were proud to be.
I will definitely not be giving a toast at the reception tonight.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
A low rumble sounds from Wyatt’s chest as he pulls Trista in close to his side in a dramatic dip. She squeals, her foot kicking up just before their lips connect in a passionate kiss that isn’t at all like the one I had on my wedding day.
Randal winced when we kissed. Literally winced because he had a split lip and a black eye. And there I was in a mediocre wedding dress purchased off the rack that countless other brides-to-be had tried on before me.
If those weren’t signs that our marriage was doomed from the start, I don’t know what was.
We make our way from the wedding ceremony area on the courtyard over to the black-and-white checkered dance floor that’s laid out by the pool. The sun is nearly gone as the music swells for Wyatt and Trista’s first dance.
