Sweet Fate Page 2

Giving up, I turned to look out the window into the backyard. The guests who had, for the most part, been standing and chatting earlier were now starting to take their seats. I scanned the sea of faces, searching for the one I most wanted to see.

  I hadn’t yet found her when Weston came to peer over my shoulder. “Looks like people are starting to gather. I’m going to go down now so I can make sure Elizabeth is good with Sebastian before it’s time to line up.”

  Nate finished off his glass. “I’ll go with you. Trish gets antsy at these things. I shouldn’t leave her alone for too long.”

  I listened halfheartedly to Weston and Nate bestow congratulations and well-wishes as I continued to study the crowd, looking always for her. She’d said it was kismet when we’d met before. I didn’t believe in that nonsense, not anymore.

  But if she were outside right now...if she looked up and our eyes met...

  “She’s helping Sabrina get ready,” Donovan said.

  I looked back and was startled to find we were now the only two in the room. Meaning Donovan had been addressing me. But he couldn’t have guessed who I’d been looking for. Could he?

  “Who?” I asked innocently.

  “Audrey.”

  As I’d assumed, and yet, still I’d searched.

  “That is why you’re here, isn’t it? I can’t imagine any other reason you’d attend a wedding, let alone fly across an ocean for one. Had to be to see her.”

  I threw him a scowl. “Poppycock. I was coming to the States anyway to see Aaron.” And yes, also to see Audrey. Not to start anything or have some glorious reunion, but after seven months of pining, I’d hoped seeing her might knock the want of her out of my system.

  I wasn’t about to tell any of that to Donovan though.

  Too late, I realized my defensiveness had caused me to respond incorrectly. “But if I hadn’t already planned to be here to see Aaron, I’d have come anyway. For you. I’d never miss your nuptials.”

  “Uh-huh.” He smirked like he was in on a joke. “She’s graduated now, you know. Looking for work.”

  “Who?” I could play this game all day.

  He threw me a glare that reminded me he could play all day too, then went about tucking his tie into his vest. “There are ways to influence where she ends up. I’d be happy to help if…”

  “‘Influence where she ends up?’ Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

  “That if you want her close to you, it’s possible to make that happen.”

  I wanted to ask more about those possibilities, wanted to pursue them sincerely. While I couldn’t know what Donovan had in mind, I did trust that he could do what he said. He was a man who made things happen, and wasn’t it tempting to pounce on his offer? To live a life where I saw Audrey Lind every day? I couldn’t imagine anything more miraculous.

  But I was a pragmatic man. Even if a woman like her would want a man nearly twenty years older than she was, we were on different paths. Especially now that she’d finished school. She had her entire future ahead of her. Who was I, with those days long in my past, to step in and hold her back?

  “I’m not moving back to New York,” I said, my jaw set. “And if you’re offering something else, I’m definitely not interested in that.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Yes. As miserable as that made me, I was sure.

  But why was Donovan pushing us together anyway? I’d assumed he didn’t know anything about me and Audrey.

  Did he?

  I turned my full attention on him and narrowed my eyes. “What exactly are you suggesting is between she and I, might I ask?”

  “I’m suggesting nothing.”

  “It sure sounds like you’re suggesting something,” I grumbled.

  He picked up his tuxedo jacket from the bed and paused. “Such as?”

  “Such as some imagined relationship between me and your soon-to-be sister-in-law.”

  “Nope. Not suggesting anything of the sort.” He slid one arm through the sleeve of the jacket, followed by the other.

  “I’d appreciate it if you continued that way.” What on earth had provoked this conversation in the first place? Had I given any indication that I was interested in the girl or had he simply been fishing?

  More importantly, had I confirmed anything if he had been? I quickly replayed everything that had been said in my head. A frown sunk on my lips. “No one needs to know about this conversation, either. Including Sabrina.”

  Donovan stood in front of the mirror again, fidgeting with his collar, but stopped to consider me. “Are you asking me to keep something from my wife?”

  That had been what I’d implied, hadn’t it? Perhaps that wasn’t fair. Especially since my own marriage had been destroyed with secrets and lies.

  A thought suddenly occurred to me. “Has Audrey ever...has she mentioned...me? To you or Sabrina?”

  “A shared kiss. Nothing else.”

  That shouldn’t have been as disappointing as it was. I hadn’t told anyone about Audrey, after all. Not even about the kiss.

  But I was a different beast than she. I wasn’t prone to gushing and prattling on about such things, whereas she was. If there was anything to gush and prattle on about, it was hard to believe she’d be able to bottle it in.

  “Good,” I said, trying for nonchalant. “Because there’s nothing besides that for her to mention. Which is why there’s nothing to mention to Sabrina either. It’s not asking you to keep something from your wife if she already knows all there is to begin with.”

  He turned to face me, again with that knowing smirk. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  Worried that wasn’t the end of it, I changed the subject myself. “Enough about me. This is your day.” I stood back to size him up. “You look good! Are you nervous?”

  “Not since the Scotch kicked in.”

  “Sounds about right.” Though it didn’t need it, I reached out to straighten his tie. It was an excuse for an intimate moment. “You took a long time to get here. You deserve this, my friend.”

  “Misery and woe?”

  I really had been a shithead, spreading my doom and gloom all over his big event.

  With a sigh, I attempted to steer a new course. “That’s how it worked out for me, but perhaps I’m not a man who knows how to hold onto happiness.”

  “Never too late to learn.”

  Maybe that was true. Maybe I could find joy with a woman once again. Maybe this time I could keep it in my grasp, protect it, never let it go.

  I didn’t believe that rubbish, however. I didn’t subscribe to the fancies of fairy tales or the notion that happily ever after could exist.

  But despite my skepticism, I said, “Then show me how it’s done, will you?” Because on Donovan’s wedding day, I was a good enough friend to pretend it was possible.

  Two

  It was a beautiful wedding, considering that it was, in fact, a wedding.

  Sabrina had chosen a tailored gown with sleek lines and a plunging neckline. An oversized bow trailed to the floor behind her, adding just a hint of drama. Her eyes glistened throughout the ceremony, and her face wore a smile that reached from ear to ear.

  It was difficult not to remember that Amanda had once been slated to stand where she was, and it added a bittersweet flavor to an event that already tasted tart in my mouth.

  Donovan remained stoic as always, but he gave his own hints at emotion. The shallow rise and fall of his chest, the tightening of his throat while reciting his vows. His gaze never left hers, as though he were chained to her through their eyes. It was obvious he loved her, that he worshipped the ground she walked on, and I imagined for those reasons that he considered this the best day of his life.

  I hoped, for both their sakes, more best days would follow.

  I watched them intently, paying attention to every exchange between them, to every soft word whispered, every slight touch. Focusing completely on them was the only way to keep from sneaking glances at the bride’s s
ister. The only look at her I’d allowed myself had been when she’d walked down the aisle ahead of Sabrina, when everyone’s eyes were on her.

  But even without giving her my direct focus, I saw her. She stood to the side of Sabrina the entire wedding. She was there in my periphery, her presence pulling at me like she was an industrial strength magnet and I, an iron rod. She kept herself together, neither fidgeting nor breaking down in happy tears, but I could sense the joy inside her, wanting to burst. I could feel it as if it were an emotion coming from inside myself. I could feel her as though she were in my arms and not five meters away.

  After the kiss between the bride and groom and the proclamation of man and wife, Donovan and Sabrina were pulled aside by the photographer while Audrey resumed the spot behind the microphone. She directed everyone to the tent where dinner was soon to be served, informing guests how to find their assigned seats. Then she was swept away with the fluster of activity, and I lost sight of her again.

  For the best.

  I didn’t want to know who she was with, who might have come as her date. I didn’t want to hear the laughs she shared with others and not with me. I didn’t want to see her not looking for me. So instead I looked for Aaron.

  I managed for a good part of the evening to stay occupied with my son. Through dinner and the cutting of the cake and most of the toasts. Then it was her turn to raise her champagne glass and deliver her blessings, and then I had to look again.

  “For those who don’t know, Sabrina is as much a mother to me as she is a sister,” she said. “Our dad died when I was thirteen, and mom had been gone a while by then. And this woman—this wonderful, beautiful woman—changed her entire life to look out for me.”

  She choked up and had to pause, dabbing at her eyes, until she could talk again. “I’ve been so very lucky to have her devotion. So lucky to be loved by her. She deserves every bit of happiness and affection that she spent on me to be returned to her with interest, and I know Donovan is the man who can deliver. I wish you everything your heart desires, sis. You deserve it. And no more worrying about me. You’ve been the best example, and I only hope that if or when I find a love as amazing as you’ve found with Donovan, that I have the ability to recognize it.”

  She mouthed some form of I love you and blew a kiss, and I closed my eyes and tried to figure out why her gorgeous speech left a pit in my stomach. Certainly I worried that Donovan and Sabrina wouldn’t last, that years later they’d look back on today as a bitter memory and despise every shallow sentiment that had been spoken.

  But concern wasn’t the feeling twisting in my gut. This burned more like jealousy. Yes, yes, I was jealous—of Donovan and Sabrina who were at the beginning of their happy days, for their love, still pure and untainted. Jealous of Audrey and her ability to be so genuinely candid. But most of all, jealous of whomever it was that she was waiting to find, the man who would get to love her and feel her love in return.

  I took a deep breath in and let it out. This was ridiculous. I was ridiculous. If I wanted the girl so badly, why didn’t I just go talk to her? What was keeping me from her?

  Only myself, that was who.

  After the toasts had finished, I left Aaron in a passionate discussion with Weston about some animated show called Voltron and went to find her. I discovered her at the punch bowl, patiently listening while Donovan’s mother rattled on about the disappointments of the day. That wasn’t a conversation I wanted to be in the middle of, so I stood nearby, waiting for them to wrap up.

  I saw when she noticed me.

  Her forehead, which had just a moment before been creased, relaxed and her brows rose. Did I imagine that her eyes sparked? That her entire face lit up?

  “Dylan!” she exclaimed when she was finally free of Susan Kincaid.

  Without reservation, she moved in to wrap me in her embrace, and my entire being sighed with relief. She smelled just as I’d remembered—like apples and bourbon, like spring and vibrancy. Her touch sent warmth shooting through my limbs. And the feel of her, the weight of her in my arms, was like finding gravity. Like discovering the best ballast. Like being firmly anchored after too long adrift at sea.

  It was a brief harbor.

  Too soon she was stepping back, putting an acceptable distance between us.

  “I saw you earlier,” she said, and I clung to every syllable she uttered. “I confess—I’d been looking, and I meant to come over, but then I’d get distracted or you’d be with your son, and I worried about intruding.”

  Then she had looked for me. I could feel the span of my chest increasing with that knowledge.

  “It never seemed like the proper time,” I agreed.

  “I’m glad you’re here now. It’s so good to see you.”

  “You as well.” Silence stretched between us, a comfortable quiet that kept our gazes locked while all the words I couldn’t say effervesced inside me like champagne bubbles pressing at the cork. She smiled as though she understood what I hadn’t spoken. Her cheeks pinked, and finally she broke our gaze with a quick glance at her feet.

  “How are you?” she said when she looked back up.

  At the same time, I asked, “You’ve been well?”

  She laughed, that angelic tinkle that always made me heady.

  “Go on,” I offered. I would have said nothing at all for the rest of our interaction, content to simply listen to every one of her precious sounds.

  She swept a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Things are good with you? And Aaron?”

  “Yes, we’re good. He’s grown more than three inches since Thanksgiving, at least two since I saw him in the spring. He curses more than a child should probably curse in front of his father, and he is glued to his phone…” Shut it, will you? She doesn’t want to hear about your parenting woes. “But we’re both good.”

  “Except you’re at a wedding—are you completely miserable?”

  “Not completely.” Far from at this particular moment. “And you? You’re finished with your master’s, I presume. How goes the art conversation?”

  She smiled at my purposeful switch of the word conversation for conservation. “I am done. Walked the stage three weeks ago. Now I’m doing the find-a-job thing, which is almost as dreadful as school was. I started applying months ago, and well, you know art conservation is a real specialized career. Entry-level work isn’t spectacular. I’m still building a portfolio and all.” She twisted her bottom lip between her teeth. “But! I do have a second interview at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. Jax and I are driving out there tomorrow.” She glanced toward a young man sitting at a table, drawing with a stylus onto a digital pad.

  I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to know.

  “Boston Museum of Fine Arts? That’s fantastic!”

  She blushed again. “It’s only an interview.”

  “It’s still fantastic.” I couldn’t help myself—I asked. “And Jax is…?”

  She nodded toward the man. “We went to school together. Jax is a digital artist. We’re thinking of maybe getting a place together if I end up somewhere ‘cool.’ His words.”

  The burn of jealousy returned, acidic in my stomach. “He’s a boyfriend, then?”

  “No, no,” she said quickly. “A friend.”

  As if sensing he was being talked about, Jax looked up from his iPad and gave Audrey a smile. It was the same kind of smile that I imagined I gave her—adoring and full of want.

  “He likes you more than a friend,” I said, my throat scalding with the words.

  “Ah, no. Well…” Her eyes darted down again. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

  The floor felt like it was plummeting beneath my feet. Of course she’d have a beau. Who could know her and let her get away?

  “But I am excited about the possibility,” she said eagerly, apparently unaware that I was sinking into despair. “Boston isn’t that far away from New York, and especially if Sabrina starts having babies, I’m going to want to be close. I need to live vicariou
sly through her until I get some of my own.”

  “You want children?” This shouldn’t have been a surprise.

  “Definitely. I’m one of those greedy women who want it all—a fulfilling career, an adoring husband, and a brood. I’m thinking five is a good number. But maybe I’ll squeeze out six.”

  “Six?”

  “Like I said, a brood.”

  A brood. She wanted a brood.

  I spent my days dreaming of retirement and putting my teenager through college. At my age, perhaps, one baby could be considered. Two, if I worked fast. Certainly not five. Not six. Not a brood.

  This was what was keeping me from her—this vast chasm that stood between her future trajectory and mine. She was at the start of her life, when girls wanted marriage and family and white picket fences. And why shouldn’t she want those things? She had many years ahead of her to want it all. Many years to have it all.

  I would be nothing but an obstacle for her dreams.

  If she were even to want me.

  So though I yearned to ask her to dance, to press my face into the curve of her neck and hold her tight against me, I didn’t extend the offer.

  “Of course, I have to find the right guy first,” she said, twisting her hands in front of her. “Who knows? Maybe I already know him.”

  “Maybe it’s Jax.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  She opened her mouth to say something else when Sabrina’s voice cut through the noise of the crowd. “All right, ladies. I’m throwing the bouquet!”

  Audrey clasped her hands at her heart. “The bouquet! That’s my cue.” She stepped forward and placed a soft kiss on my cheek, a kiss that I was sure I’d feel for the rest of my life. “This wasn’t so terribly awkward, after all,” she said when she pulled away.

  “No, not terribly awkward, after all.”

  My eyes didn’t leave her as she walked away. Inside, a vice gripped my ribs, squeezing all the air from my lungs, splitting my chest in two, and still I watched her with a smile pasted on my lips.

  It wasn’t entirely fake. It did make me happy to see her, even while seeing her taught me the most wretched lesson—though I could never have her, though we were fated to be two ships that passed in the night, Audrey Lind was not a woman I was getting over anytime soon.