Gavin let out a deep sigh. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is,” she replied, tapping her finger against her cheek. “Drop the whole jeans and sweatshirt thing you got going on, too. Love ya, my brother.”
Gavin shook his head and watched as she closed the door behind her.
Time.
Tonight, time wasn’t on his or Emily’s side. Staring at the clock on the wall once again, Gavin sat there for a few minutes. His mind was literally rocked from the conversation. He sat there for a few more minutes, trying—and failing—to make sense of everything spinning through his head. Though his unease of never being with Emily ever again grew, gnawing at his stomach, the thought of showing up, only to get turned down again, made him know that the decision he was about to make was for the better. There was no denying that he needed her. He needed her like the veins in his body needed blood and his lungs needed air. However, this time around, Gavin would rather suffocate than have to look Emily in the eyes and hear those venomous words again. No. He wouldn’t go tonight.
And, just like that, Gavin knew he’d changed the course of his and Emily’s lives forever.
Teetering. Though a few weeks had gone by, Emily was teetering a fine line between sanity and madness. She felt as though she was made of glass, and a small hammer—held in the hand of each man—was chipping away at her. She was sure that at any second she would shatter into a million jagged pieces. The larger pieces—representing Dillon—cut into her flesh. The smaller slivers—Gavin—stuck under her skin. Either way, both were slicing into her heart, leaving her a bleeding corpse of the woman she once was. She felt like she was watching herself from a distance—no longer in control of her thoughts, no longer in control of the path she was walking. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t deny there was a small sense of relief that had washed over her once she’d arrived at the church to see Gavin hadn’t shown up—yet, her ache for him remained. A part of her knew she was being elusive. She was trying to fuse back together what’d been broken between her and Dillon, knowing a huge amount of their relationship had crystallized into dust. Still, she needed something to hold on to—and that something was a tiny glimmer of hope that she could bring her feelings for Dillon back to where they used to be.
She needed to fall back in love with him.
However, she had become a very good liar herself lately, playing into her own game of staunch resistance to the obvious. She now felt like the master of trickery because she knew that she was trying to delude herself into thinking that she’d be able to forget Gavin. Forget every stolen glance they had shared, every accidental brush of their flesh, and every moment they experienced together—right down to the second she knew she loved him. The force of will and string of lies she was trying to convince herself of would never be enough to keep her heart from splitting along the scars and stitches of the mess that was left. So tonight—as she stood staring back at the hollow shell of the woman she had now become—she wondered how far the delusion would get her into her marriage, wondered how long Gavin would haunt her every waking thought, and wondered how long she could fool herself.
Trying to compose herself, Emily tore her gaze from her reflection when Fallon walked into the restroom.
“Are you alright?” Fallon asked, making her way over to her. “Or are you still feeling nauseous?”
Emily shook her head and cleared her throat. “No, I’m okay right now.” She tucked her lipstick into her purse. “Is Olivia here yet?”
“She just texted me, saying she’d be here in two minutes,” she responded, handing Emily her purse. She walked into one of the stalls. “She had to stop off somewhere after the church.”
“Where did Trevor go?” Emily asked, placing their purses on the counter.
“When we got here, he realized he didn’t have any cash on him,” she called out. “He ran up to an ATM.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Emily flipped on the water and started washing her hands. It was then that Olivia popped into the restroom.
“Hey,” she chirped, pulling her scarf from her neck.
“Where did you have to go?” Emily probed and reached for a paper towel.
She plopped her belongings onto the counter and studied her reflection in the mirror. She glanced at Emily. “I…uh, had to get cash.”
“Why does everyone think they need cash while they’re here?” Emily asked, quirking a brow. “Everything’s paid for tonight.”
“To tip the servers.” Olivia shrugged. “You, out of all people, should know that.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess I should,” she answered absently, her voice trailing off.
“Your head’s not where it should be. I get it.”
Emily gave her a questioning look.
“I know Dickhead hasn’t noticed your act lately since he’s been consumed with working late again, but I have.” Emily started to speak, but Olivia continued. “I have to admit that I think it’s bullshit that he’s been working late. But, hey, you seem to believe him, so I guess that’s all that counts, right?”
Emily let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh God, please don’t start with me about this again, Liv.” She plucked her purse from the counter. “Not now. I can’t, and I won’t.”
“I’m just trying to make sense of all of this, Emily.” Gently grabbing her by the elbow, Olivia effectively stopped her from walking out. With tears welling in her eyes, Emily looked at her. “You’re in love with somebody else—yet, you’re marrying another man. Stop. Take a step back. Honestly, just stop and think about what you’re about to do.”
Emily stood mute and stared at her.
Biting her lip and noticeably uncomfortable, Fallon stepped out from the stall and started washing her hands. She quickly dried them and reached for her purse. “I’m just gonna leave you two alone,” she said, walking to the door. Olivia nodded. “I’ll see you guys inside.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Olivia whispered, looking back to Emily after Fallon walked out. “Even if you don’t believe Gavin, you don’t have to marry Dillon.”
“I love Dillon,” she answered, looking down, her tone low.
Taking her chin in her hand, Olivia lifted her face. “I have no doubt in my mind that you love him, Emily, but you’re no longer in love with him and to think that you can make yourself fall back in love with him is completely delusional, friend.”
Emily swiped a tear off her cheek. “I can fall back in love with him.” She stared at Olivia for a long moment and then made her way over to the door. Turning around, she sniffled and shook her head. “I’m marrying him tomorrow, Olivia. You can support me or not—and I hope to God you can—but I’m doing it.”
With that, Emily swung the door open. Before her mind could even begin to compute the conversation that’d just taken place, her eyes locked on icy blues—those mesmerizing icy blues that caused her unimaginable heartbreak, confusion, and her now rapid breathing. Frozen. Literally feeling frozen to her spot, Emily couldn’t move as she stared at Gavin from across the lobby of the restaurant. He looked more disheveled than she could’ve ever imagined, but it didn’t stop her body from reacting to his sensually beautiful face—that breathtakingly pained face staring back at her. Almost instantly, she felt her heart drumming within her chest, felt the tiny beads of sweat crawl across every pore on her skin, and felt every hair on her body stand on end. Although guests from several different parties floated across the lobby, their eyes never unlocked from one another. With his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, Emily’s breath hitched in the back of her throat as he began to make his way toward her. She faintly registered the sound of the restroom door closing behind her when Olivia emerged.
“You have to talk to him,” Olivia said, placing a hand on her back.