Moore To Love (36 page)

The instant flood of emotions sends me into Hudson’s arms for an impulsive, thank-you-for-being-a-friend hug. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around him. The visceral smile that paints my lips can’t be mistaken for anything other than a moment of unabashed joy. There’s just one thing missing. I wish Lane was here to experience it with me.

Be careful what you wish for, Leni.

When I open my eyes I’m stunned still. I’m not sure if it’s an apparition, a joke, or a figment of my warped imagination but Lane is freaking here. At the wedding. In a tuxedo. Looking at me. In Hudson’s arms.

“SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!” I CURSE,
pushing off Hudson’s chest and backing away from our embrace. Our extremely platonic embrace. An embrace that from the eyes of a scorned boyfriend probably looks anything
but
platonic, and very, very guilty.

“What’s the matter?” Hudson asks and then catches my line of vision. He turns and sees Lane frozen in the doorway with his hands in his pockets as if he’s deciding whether or not he’s welcome. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I thought he had a family emergency?”

“Uh. About that. I lied.” I ignore Hudson’s confusion and set my sights on Lane.

He’s tense, his jaw visibly clenching even from this distance. With one more disappointed glance our way, he turns and starts in the opposite direction.

“I have to go to him.” I don’t bother with an explanation or an excuse. I refuse to let more miscommunication or assumptions screw this up.

As I hurry through the crowd of clueless relatives and random guests, it feels as though I’m running in slow motion and can’t get to Lane fast enough. Like in those terrifying dreams where you’re trying your absolute hardest to get away from something but you’re eerily motionless. Only this time, I want my fears to catch up with me and allow me to stare them right in the face. Fears. Hopes. Wounds. Desires. Lane encompasses them all and I’ve never been more ready to confront them than I am in this moment.

“Lane! Wait!” I call out when I enter the vestibule. His back is toward me, already one foot out the door to the garden where the cocktail hour was held. I’m so tired of seeing this version of him—leaving. It’s time he knows how badly I want him to stay. For good.

“Please, Lane. Don’t go.” This time he stops walking but still doesn’t turn to face me.

I walk over to him, catching my breath and gathering some modicum of composure. Reaching out to touch him, I think twice and retreat. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Really? Are you? Because it certainly didn’t look that way.” His shoulders gracefully rise and fall with long, deep breaths.

“I know what it looked like, but—” I won’t do this to his back. Face to face. Truth. That’s how this has to be done. “Please look at me,” I plead, placing a quivering hand on his shoulder.

This gets him to turn to me, but the pain on his face makes me wish he hadn’t. “You are such a hypocrite. You find out I’m not perfect so you run to someone who is.”

His words sting, but I deserve them. Even though they’re the furthest thing from the truth. I peer down at my peep-toe shoes and summon the courage to do this right without sticking my big toe in the kisser. “Will you come outside with me and let me explain?”

“Why should I?” he snaps. “You didn’t give me the decency to explain myself when you jumped to conclusions and let your emotions run high. Maybe this isn’t worth it, Leni. Maybe the two of us just aren’t meant to be. It seems we do more leaving and lying than anything else.”

It’s a sad reality, but it doesn’t have to be this way. “You’re right. I don’t deserve the chance to explain myself. I probably don’t even deserve
you
, but if you give me a chance, I can make this right. All of it. That’s all I want.”

His eyes flutter and then close. His nostrils flare as he inhales and then releases a weighty breath. He opens his mouth to speak but clamps it shut as his eyes go wide.

“Is everything all right out here, Leni?”

I spin around to find Hudson eye-balling Lane as he rocks back and forth on the heels of his Ferragamos.

“Blackman. Perfect timing, as always.” Lane rakes his fingers through his hair and huffs.

I wave a dismissive hand and shake my head. “We’re fine. Could you please leave us alone to talk?” I don’t want to be a jerk now that Hudson and I have finally come to an understanding, but his presence is making matters worse and there’s already enough evidence to persecute me in the court of She’s Fucked.

Hudson must sense my frustration because he nods and offers, “Of course. If you’d like some privacy, there’s an unoccupied bridal suite back that way.” He smiles at me but it fades slightly when he returns his gaze to Lane.

I mouth a silent
thank you
and turn to Lane for approval.

“Fine,” he finally says, his features relaxing as he takes stock of the amicable vibe between Hudson and me.

“The room’s yours for as long as you need it.” Hudson gestures in the direction of the suite. “Would you like me to let someone know where you are so they don’t worry?”

“Just tell Tatum that Lane is here. She’ll understand.” I offer a tight smile, grab Lane by the hand, and start walking.

When Hudson is out of earshot, Lane asks, “Why is he offering up the room like he owns the joint?”

“Well, he kind of does. He bought the place today. That’s why he’s here.”

“You mean—he’s not here with you?”

“Nope. I told you it’s not what you think.”

“I’m so damn confused. I’ve never been more confu—”

“I tend to have that effect on people. Come on. This must be it. I’ll explain everything.”

Ten minutes after I’ve given him the entire rundown about Hudson, Lane is out of the dark and way more open to hearing me out. “When I saw you with him, you don’t know what that did to me. I had to pull it together or I would’ve made a very unnecessary scene in front of your whole family. Luckily my temper isn’t as bad as what I thought I saw.”

“That’s one of the things I love about you,” I admit, palming Lane’s clean-shaven cheek in my hand. I fear he’ll back away from my touch, but he doesn’t and that sparks a hope inside me that was snuffed out a few days ago.

Cupping his hand over mine, Lane’s eyes drift over my body and then return to mine. “I’ve missed you so much. I know it’s only been days, but when you left, and then didn’t answer my calls, I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m so sorry I reacted the way I did. It’s my own fault for letting my past get the best of me. I know now that my insecurities are my own worst enemy. You couldn’t have known that and you did nothing wrong. I’m the only one at fault here and I’ll apologize a million times if I have to just to prove how much—” I can’t hold the words back anymore. I have to tell him. He needs to know. “I love you, Lane.”

His eyes flicker with something beautiful. I know. He knows. I’m certain from that look alone that he’s in love with me, too. But I can’t expect him to jump back into the way things were before I screwed everything up with my issues.

Lane swallows a large, visible lump. For a moment I expect him to succumb to the moment and pick up where we left off, but his gaze trails off to the far end of the room and my stomach sinks when he doesn’t repeat the same phrase. “How can you love me when you don’t know all of me?”

Oh, Lane.
Why did I ever walk away from you?
“I
want
to know all of you. I’ll never turn my back on you again. I ran for the wrong reasons. Not because of what I saw or who you are.”

“Who I
was
,” he corrects.

It’s obvious we’re more alike than we even know. If anyone understands how painful it is to hold on to a version of yourself that’s defined you for the better part of your life, it’s me. By some tiny miracle, I’ve finally found a way to accept who I am. I’d love to be the person to help Lane along that journey, too. “Tell me about him. I’m ready to hear all about it. Because, Lane, no matter what those scars mean or who you were in the past, I am in love with the man you are right now. And I don’t know how or why you chose me, but if you give me another chance to be yours, I’ll never question it again.”

His acceptance is wordless, his forgiveness is a kiss, and his confession of love is his embrace. Lane’s mouth crashes against mine and his hands tug at the loose curls dangling from my up-do. I almost—
almost
—forgot how perfect our lips move together. No one and nothing can convince me that this man was not made for me and I for him. Not even the secrets he kept from me about his scars.

“I love you, too, Leni,” he whispers against my lips and brings his hands to my face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about the surgery and my weight loss. I was so wrapped up in falling for you that I almost forgot I ever had those skeletons in my closest. I wasn’t lying when I told you that you make all of that disappear.

“Before you walked out, I was certain that if I’d met you back in Tuscarora you would’ve loved me for me, even at my heaviest, before the Lap Band. You have no idea how I wish I had known you when I was eighteen. Things might have been different, but—I don’t know. I wasn’t happy for a long time.

“My weight was an issue all through adolescence. And the kids weren’t nice. I was picked on, name-called, stereotyped; think of the worst and that’s what I went through. The whole ordeal prevented me from living the teenage-boy dream. Sports, dates, popularity. I wish I could do it all over. See myself differently and not let any of that negativity get in the way of being
normal
.” Lane looks down at the ground for a split second and then returns his eyes to mine. Empathy isn’t always a good thing. I feel as if I’m reliving a lot of my own childhood by listening to him. I don’t say anything because I sense there’s more he’d like to finally get off his chest.

“I can’t say there was one particular breaking point that pushed me to making my decision. It was more a culmination of everything I’d gone through and not being strong enough to deal with the ridicule anymore. I was ashamed of the weight. I wanted it gone. Quick and easy. I couldn’t be stuck inside a body that was hindering me from being the
real
person hiding beneath the fat all those years. Maybe if I’d known you then, you could’ve helped me do things differently, but in the long run, I’m happy with my decision. And I’m happy that our paths crossed when they did because you made me believe that the person I am on the inside has nothing to do with the person I am on the outside.”