In the Stars (11 page)

We are inevitable.

“Do you regret it? Did you think about me much since then? I’ve thought about you a lot. I missed you,” I admit. “I wasn’t able to trust other guys because I was afraid they’d toss me away like you did. I don’t think a single day has gone by when I haven’t thought of you, at least in passing.”

My breathing is short and I don’t want to pause our passion, but I have to know. It’s scary to voice my feelings. I wish I could read his mind right now like Spock in
Star Trek
by placing my hand on his head and knowing exactly what is going on.

“Wow, well, geez, Charley, I missed you too, sure I did. I can’t, you know, say it as good as you can, that’s all.”

“Did you love me?” Five years ago he had told me a few times, had said those magic words that make a woman feel like a queen. Once it was when we were studying together and everything was quiet, and out of nowhere he had looked up and said it, his green eyes locked with mine. But then, three weeks later we were over and he was out of my life. Now, after years of second guessing, I really need to hear it again.

“I know you’re figuring everything out right now and whatnot. I’m not asking if you still love me
today
because it’s been a long time. Feelings are never immediate. But looking back, did you honestly love me back when we were together?”

Drew’s face softens and he places his hands on my shoulders. “Charley, I can sincerely say that I loved you then and part of me has never stopped loving you to this day.” He seals his sentiment with a brief kiss.

He loves me.

He sounds sincere. I nod and as if on cue and being led by some invisible hand of providence, we turn and walk toward the stone bridge. I loop my arm through his and it is a serendipitous moment. Cool air, children playing on a nearby playground, laughter floating on the breeze. Nothing could ruin this moment, when out of nowhere, a shrill voice behind us shrieks.

“Oh my God, Drew? Drew Adams? It
is
you! But who the hell is
she
?”

Moment officially ruined.

A filthy mouth will not utter decent language.
        —Chinese Proverb

Chapter Seventeen

D
rew and I spin around. His reaction is standard panic mode. He drops my arm like it has turned into a poisonous serpent, straightens his shirt, tucks at his pants, shoves a hand in his front pocket and plasters a cool, “who me?” expression on his face. I have no idea what to do or who these women are. I place my hands in my windbreaker pockets and step to the right, away from Drew, whose current body language is screaming at me to back off.

Three girls about my age storm toward us. One is tall and thin with ebony skin and hair smoothed against her head with hundreds of tiny cornrows. She is wearing the most glamorous over-the-knee hooker-style boots, the type that you only see celebrities wear but never anyone in real life. The second one is also tall, slightly overweight but carries herself with the confidence of a woman everyone adores. Her pleasant, round face is confused, forehead wrinkled, as if she knows what’s going on and yet doesn’t want to believe it. The final girl, trailing a few yards behind, has pale skin with freckles and long, wavy ginger hair that reflects the afternoon sun. She looks a bit younger than the first two, a bit more innocent, although her clothes alone could pay my rent for a good four months.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Drew whispers to me. “Just play along. Don’t say anything stupid. Shit. That’s Sylvia’s sister and a couple of her bridesmaids. I can’t believe this. They were supposed to be going to a bridal shower bachelorette thing this afternoon.” He mutters a few stronger profanities that make me wince inwardly before plastering a huge, innocent and welcoming smile onto his handsome face.

“Belle! Monica! Jenna! I was just showing my cousin how lucky we are on the Island to have a park this amazing. Crazy meeting you guys here. What are you up to this afternoon?”

Apparently I’m the cousin. I smile in a winsome, cousinly way and hold out my hand to them. The dark girl gives me a suspicious look and shakes my hand, very firmly, I might add. In fact, I am a little worried that she might crush a few fingers but force myself not to flinch.

“I’m Jenna, Sylvia’s best friend.” She lets go of my hand and I shove it back into my pocket.

“I’m Charley,” I say.

Drew glares at me. I guess I should have come up with a code name or something, but I didn’t think of it until it was too late. I try to make it more believable. “Charley, uh, Adams. I’m Drew’s cousin on his dad’s side.” Drew’s glare lessens slightly. “I just got into town and was catching up with Drew here.” The lies flow out of me. This is why I’m a good lawyer.

The other two girls introduce themselves. Sylvia’s red-haired sister, Monica, comes across as very shy; I get the sense that she just sits back and takes life as it comes. After introducing herself, she wanders off toward the totem pole, looking up at the many layers of eagles, beavers and other animals etched into the wood.

Belle is the bigger girl, and her enthusiasm makes up for the hostility that Jenna displays.

She gives me an animated hug and says, “Well, welcome to Victoria, Charley. I’m glad we get to meet you before the wedding tomorrow. I love this place. Beacon Hill is the most beautiful park in the world. Have you guys been to the petting zoo? Oh goodness, I can’t remember the last time I was there. It’s been years, but you two should check it out. They have all these baby goats. I just love goats!” Belle bubbles over with excitement.

“I thought you had that bridal shower thing this afternoon,” Drew says in an effort to take attention away from us and our plans.

Belle nods vigorously and chirps, “Yes! We were supposed to, but Sylvia had an emergency fitting for her gown and had to rush off. We have a few hours to kill until she’s finished so we figured we’d wander over this way.” She seems thrilled that there was a catastrophe right before the big day. “It’s all so exciting, with the crisis phone calls and having to race around and everything!”

“Not exciting,” Jenna complains. “Sylvia is completely stressed out now, and this is not a joyful occasion.” She rolls her eyes at Belle, who lowers her head. Moments later, however, her golden retriever smile returns and she prattles to Drew about the rehearsal that morning.

“The church is just gorgeous, don’t you think? Such an incredible location for a once in a lifetime event, don’t you think?”

I don’t want to imagine Drew going through with this “once in a lifetime event” and his smile is frozen in a way that makes it clear that he is attempting not to imagine it either. “Uh, Drew, I think we should probably get going,” I interject awkwardly. These girls are ruining my day with him. He’s edgy and paranoid, I’m guilt ridden and terrified that someone will blow my cover.

Drew nods immediately. “Yes, we probably should.” His words are stilted and discomfited and I can’t help but feel that he’s angry with me despite none of this being my fault.

I shoot a look at Jenna, who stands with her hands on her hips, watching me with suspicion. I feel another rush of nerves . . . maybe she saw more than us merely linking arms. What if she saw the kissing, or the embraces or how close we were standing? The other two may have accepted that I am Cousin Charley, but Jenna clearly has not.

“Don’t go,” Jenna smiles through gritted teeth. Am I imagining this? She seems angry. “I’ve barely met your . . . cousin.” I half expected her to say some other word, like tramp or whore, something cruel.
Cousin
hangs on the air, like evidence in a courtroom.

Drew must have heard the same thing in her tone as I did because he shoots me a dark look and says, “Charley is right, we really do need to head out. But, we’ll see you ladies tomorrow.”

“Of course,” bubbles Belle. She beams at me. “I wish we’d met you sooner. It would have been fun to hang out. Maybe you can come out here to visit Drew sometime and we can get together then.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I choke.

Jenna is still in confrontational mode. “I just remembered something. Sylvia said that Drew didn’t have any female relatives. She was going to invite them to be in the bridal party, but then it turned out that Drew didn’t have any.” Why won’t she drop it? Stop, already!

Drew makes a low noise in the back of his throat and I think fast. “Well, that’s sort of true. I’m the only one, and I wasn’t sure if I could get time off work to come out here. It’s the busy season at the law firm, and I didn’t know until the last minute if I could come. So I told Sylvia I wouldn’t be able to be a bridesmaid.” That sounds plausible enough. “Plus, I don’t like frumpy bridesmaid dresses,” I add. “You know how it goes, three times a bridesmaid, never a bride.” The old superstition rolls off my tongue and I smile at Jenna. From her scowl, I would bet anything she has been bridesmaid more than a few times.

Drew’s shoulders relax slightly, but the tension is still thick. I clear my throat and hold out my hand to the two girls. Sylvia’s sister hasn’t rejoined the group yet, still wandering around and looking at the totem poles and flowers. “I know you probably have a ton more questions and I would love to get to know you ladies better, but it’ll have to wait for another day. So great to meet you. I’ll see you later.” I head off further questions like any good lawyer and Jenna pastes a pained smile on her face.

“Absolutely!” Belle pushes past my outstretched hand and gives me a hug, while Jenna takes my hand gingerly, like it’s a rotten fish or something equally distasteful. We call goodbye to Sylvia’s sister and head off. Drew’s shoulders are square and tight, and I mimic his body language. Hands in my pockets, not leaning toward him more than is cousinly appropriate.

I resist the urge to look over my shoulder at the girls. Don’t look back. Keep walking. The flowers and sunshine and gorgeous waterfalls are muted with my disappointment. Drew says nothing. Maybe he’s as conflicted as I, maybe he’s lost in thought or maybe he’s just mad. I sneak a look at him. His jaw is clenched and he’s breathing through his nose. In yoga, that would be calming. In Drew, not so much.

Am I imagining it, or are Jenna’s black eyes still drilling into my back? If I turn my head, would I see them happily chatting and giggling, Drew and I forgotten, or would they be whispering suspicions and texting Sylvia with the news?

“I wonder how much they saw,” I murmur. “If it was anything super bad, I’m sure they wouldn’t have been as kind to me as they were.”

Drew shrugs and finally looks over at me. His green eyes are sad, his expression remorseful. “The only one who acted like a bitch was Jenna, and she’s always like that. I think we’re okay. They definitely didn’t see us kiss, I’m positive.”

We exit the park and walk along the sidewalk, around a corner, and I take a deep breath. If they had been watching, we’re out of sight now. “Sorry about that,” I apologize, even though I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my fault. Well, most of it wasn’t.

“I thought that would never end,” Drew says. “Thanks for playing along like you did. You’re the coolest
cousin
I’ve ever known.” He glances over his shoulder and then grabs my hand and kisses it. Once, twice, along the wrist.

My heart skips a beat and I reach out with my other hand and run my fingers through his hair. A few people pass us on the sidewalk and I check them nervously, paranoid that the bridesmaids will have returned.

“Can we go somewhere?” I ask him. I would have loved to stay at that gorgeous park, but now all I want is to be away from prying eyes.

Drew kisses my neck and smiles. “I’ve been hoping you’d say that.” He points across the street to a slightly seedy-looking motel with ‘Vacancy’ spelled out in neon letters. “Let’s grab a room there, finally get some alone time.”

Alone time.

This is my day, I remind myself. My time with him. Don’t think about consequences or rights and wrongs. He’s trying to make up his mind whether or not to get married. This is crunch time. Do or die.

“Great, let’s go.” I grab his hand and we run across the street.

A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.
—English Proverb

Chapter Eighteen

T
he motel is nothing like the Pacific Grand where Josh and I are staying. It’s small and smells musty. The clerk at the front desk has greasy hair and pimples and leers a little when he sees we have no luggage with us. I use my credit card because Drew doesn’t want to use something that Sylvia might see (thank goodness I thought to put that cleaning money onto my Visa!) We grab the key and head back outside, down to the end room.

The room looks clean enough, even though it has a wet dog odor to it. The curtains are closed and cast morose shadows across the bed. There’s a beaten up desk in the corner. The quiet is terrifying. I’m searching for something to say as the door closes behind us. Before I can verbalize my thoughts, however, Drew’s hands are on me. My arms automatically go up around his neck and a small groan escapes me. These shoulders, that chest. So familiar and yet so new.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper into the gloomy air.

Drew is breathing heavily and we stumble backwards and across the brownish-orange shag carpet to the bed, arms and bodies tangled, my hair in his hands, his lips on my face. I fall back into the hard mattress, Drew on top of me. We’re a mess of emotions and wonder and even though this is not at all how I’ve pictured it, I’m over the moon.

“Can we talk?” I finally murmur, between kisses. “I have some things I really need to ask you before we, you know, keep going.”

Drew growls and rises up onto his elbows. His shirt is rumpled and he has an irritated expression on his chiseled face. “It’s my last day as an unmarried man and I need to be with you. It’s killing me, Charley.”

I roll onto my side as he runs his hands down my back and a shiver escapes up my spine.

“Please? I just need you to make a couple things clear before . . .” I trail off as what he said suddenly sinks in. “Your last day as an unmarried man?” I echo. “You mean you’re still planning to one hundred percent get married tomorrow? I thought today was your time to wait and see, you know, be open-minded about our future? All this time you’ve been absolutely sure you were going through with the wedding?”

I am in shock. If this is the case, then I am a full blown mistress. No other explanation. And forget my ‘right and wrong, no consequences’ argument in my head. This is wrong. Very much so.

“Charley,” Drew begins. His lips press into my own and he nibbles on my upper lip. “Mmm, you are so divine.”

“Don’t change the subject,” I snap and roll away, out of his embrace. I sit up on the bed and cross my arms, hugging myself to keep the pain from rushing out. The mattress underneath me creaks and moans with the movement and I feel like wailing along with it. “Were you ever considering not going through with the wedding, or were you just leading me on in hopes of getting laid?”

Drew, to his credit, cannot meet my eyes. He shifts onto his back and stares at a spot on the ceiling, a large brown water stain that looks as squashed and broken as I feel.

“Charley, I love you. I absolutely love you. But I can’t stop the wedding at this stage. Do you know how much money her parents have put into this thing? How many people have been invited? Sylvia’s parents on are about five different oil and gas boards and are friends with the Prime Minister, who has RSVP’d, by the way. I have no choice but to go ahead with it. It would be a huge scandal if I called it off at this point.”

My heart plunges and tears prick my eyelids. I cannot cry. I just can’t. “You’re making a mistake. We are meant to be. You’re the one who got away and the fates were trying to get us back together. And you’re going to let fear of a
scandal
keep you from doing what you know deep down you want?”

Drew pulls me to him and wraps me in his strong arms. My body trembles, but for once not out of desire. He presses his lips to my forehead and looks away from the stain on the ceiling to meet my eyes. “I probably am making a mistake,” he admits in a quiet voice. “But it’s too late. You appeared in my life too late. If you’d shown up a month ago, maybe things would be different. But like I said, it would be too embarrassing to call it off now. I’m stuck, Charley.” He is forlorn, his voice nowhere near as confident and tough as I’ve known it to be in the past.

“So this is it?” The tears break through the dam of self-control and flood my cheeks. My shoulders shake and Drew holds me closer.

“Look, you have my number. Give me a call in a week. I’ll be back from my honeymoon by then, maybe things will be more clear. This can’t be the end between us.”

After
the honeymoon? My stomach lurches and I spring to my feet and race to the bathroom. The ghetto tiles, probably not washed in a decade, muffle the sound as I fall to my hands and knees over the toilet and vomit. I’m sure Drew can hear me in the other room, but at least he doesn’t follow me in here.

I spit twice to clear out my mouth and splash water on my face from the sink. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My powerhouse bob is out of place and my eyes are red-rimmed and mournful. I am not nearly the hot, irresistible woman I should be in order to win him. No wonder he said no.

No wonder.

I close my eyes, count to three and step back to the main room. Drew is sitting up on the bed, his legs over the side. His shirt is still unbuttoned and he’s watching me with a strange expression. I resist the urge to wipe at my lips with my sleeve.

“It’s over between us, Drew. There won’t be any ‘see what happens after the altar’ crap. If you go through with the wedding, that’s it. I’m not going to see you behind your wife’s back. I won’t do that.”

Drew nods once and the room begins to close in on me. Neither of us moves, neither of us looks away. Time is frozen, life stands still. A car door slamming outside breaks the spell.

“Say something,” I plead, while mentally adding the words, say you love me. Say you take it back. Say this is all a mistake.

“Okay, I guess this is it, then. I’m sorry it turned out this way.” Drew stands up and the bed creaks. The end, it announces. The end of the dream. The end. His arms come out in front of him and for a second I think he’s going to give me a final hug but he doesn’t move toward me. “It really was great to see you again. These past few days have brought back a lot of memories. And in so many ways, I wish we didn’t have to part like this. We were good together.”

“So this is it.” I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to cry. Be strong.

Drew shoves his hands into his pockets and then he turns and walks away without looking back at me. The door opens and his back is silhouetted against the glare from outside. “Goodbye, Charley,” he says quietly. And then it slams and with a bang, he’s gone. Gone. Just like last time.

I repeat his words over and over in my head and sink onto the bed.
I’m probably making a mistake. Charley, I love you. I absolutely love you. But I can’t stop the wedding. Mistake. Mistake. Goodbye.

I am confused, used, betrayed. I don’t know what to do.

I am back where I started, at rock bottom. Except this time, I am lower than rock bottom. I’m center of the earth, molten lava bottom. I don’t have the potential of getting Drew back. I have nothing.

I screwed up.