That Thing Between Eli and Gwen

That Thing Between Eli and Gwen

J.J. McAvoy

Copyright

This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.

This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

That Thing Between Eli and Gwen

Copyright © 2016 by J.J. McAvoy

Ebook ISBN: 9781943772414

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

NYLA Publishing

350 7
^th
Avenue, Suite 2003, NY 10001, New York.

http://www.nyliterary.com

Open your heart to a love that makes you feel like you’re dreaming,

 a love that leaves you breathless.

Chapter One

Telltale Signs

Guinevere

I should have seen the signs that morning. They weren’t massive, but they were there. I had almost slipped and killed myself coming out of the shower—okay, that one was a big, giant sign, but the others were pretty small. I couldn’t find the left shoe to my favorite pair of red heels. The pearls
he
had given me slipped off my neck and scattered all across the bedroom floor. And when
he
did show up, twenty minutes late, Taigi would not stop barking at him…like my dog knew March 1
^st
would be a day that would live in infamy for me.

Taking a seat in his brand new midnight blue Mercedes, he didn’t say anything as we pulled out of the Hampton beach house. His knuckles were almost white as he gripped the steering wheel. The back of his hand rested just under his lips, something he had done hundreds of times in our three years together, but only when he was either really worried or upset.

“Bash?” I touched his leg and he jumped as if he had forgotten I was sitting next to him.

Turning to me, his light brown eyes met mine. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You look like we're going to a funeral, not a wedding,” I joked, smiling. He shook his head and took hold of my hand.

“I’m fine.” He kissed the back of my hand. “Just work stuff. I’m hoping we can do our rounds and get out of there before it gets too late.”

Nodding, I looked back out at the beach as we drove. Sebastian—or Bash as I called him—was the owner and founder of both
Class
and
Rebel
magazines. It was the reason we had met, actually. He had attended one of my gallery openings and loved my photography. I had told myself I would never contract myself with any corporation or brand; I liked being a freelancer. I painted and shot what I wanted, what mattered to me. Yet there was just something about Sebastian Evans. No matter how many times I bluntly denied his request or ignored his emails, he never gave up. After all, no matter what Sebastian Evans wanted, he worked until it was his. Eventually, I agreed to shoot their spring cover. It was only supposed to be that one cover, but three years later I was a contracted photographer and his fiancée.

“Welcome to The Chateau Rouge,” the valet said when we pulled up to a gated mansion. As Bash spoke to him, I found myself staring at the decorated landscape; everything was in beautiful greens and blues. Projected on the pure green grass were the initials E & H, and around them was a small orchestra, just for the arriving guests.

Only when I stepped out of the car was I able to see what had to be the icing on the cake: as if these people needed to prove they had money, there were even peacocks walking around.

I looked to Bash.

“What?” He looked at me, confused.

I pointed at everything. “Really?” was all I managed to say.

“You make it seem like you’ve never seen rich people before. You should have worn the red dress I picked out for you.” He frowned and took my hand as we walked toward the seats for guests.

This was another point at which I should have seen the signs, but again, I was blind to it. I can still remember how cold his hand was as I held it. As we mingled with the rest of New York’s elite during cocktail hour, I felt as if I were standing in the middle of the Arctic Circle in a bikini.

 “Wow, she’s beautiful,” I whispered as the bride walked up the aisle, her makeup flawless to the point that her skin glowed. Her soft, honey-gold hair shined and her strapless heart-shaped dress clung to her every curve. Her blue eyes filled with unshed tears as she held her roses tightly, walking slow and steady. For a quick second I thought I saw her glance over to us.

I hope I look half as good as her on my wedding day,
I thought, my eyes never off her as she made her way to the front.

It passed in a blur. One moment the pastor was saying something, and the next, Bash was no longer holding my hand.

“Hannah,” he called out, moving to the center of the aisle.

She looked toward him, looked to her groom, and then back at Bash.

My Bash.
What…

“Don’t, Hannah.”

What…is…this...?

“Hannah,” Bash called to her.

Stop!
My mind screamed.

But, to my horror, she let go of her groom’s hands and ran toward Bash.

I couldn’t breathe. I was up, knocking over my chair. “BASH!” I yelled.

But they were already running…hand in hand.

By this point, every other guest was up. Those around me moved away, allowing everyone to see the girl who’d just gotten dumped. I knew the only person who had it worse than me was the man up front. For the first time since I’d gotten there, I truly looked at him: tall, ivory skin, short dark hair, piercing green eyes watching his bride run from him. He stood there so still, so shocked, I almost forgot my own pain.

Why hadn’t I seen the signs?

Eli

Even if I lived to be one hundred and fifty, I would never forget
that
March 1
^st
. It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life. After two years of dating, I had finally asked
the
Hannah Michaels to be my wife.

We had met as medical interns at New York Presbyterian, and on the first day she’d had the attention of every straight male at the hospital. What was sexier than beauty and brains? She was dedicated not only to her work, but also to her patients.
The
Hannah Michaels… My Hannah was soft, sweet, focused, and precise. No matter what goal, she worked to achieve it; I liked that about her. Whenever we were around each other, we just clicked. She and I were so alike on so many levels, there were times we would end up finishing each other’s sentences. We became close early on, but didn’t actually start to date until we both became attendings.

I couldn’t imagine dating anyone else.

“You nervous?” My younger brother, Logan, placed his arm around my shoulder as I stood in the dressing room.

I shrugged him off, fixing my cuff links. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Eli Davenport is finally taking the plunge. I just can’t believe it. I thought you guys were never going to get married.” He pushed me out of the way to fix his tie.

I smacked him over the head.  

“Really? Even today you two fight?” My mother sighed, coming into the room. Her gray-auburn hair was cropped at her shoulders, and her soft green gown kissed the ground as she came close and pulled me into a light hug. The tears in her eyes were already starting to build.

“Ma, he's getting married, not dying.” Logan chuckled.

She gave him a glare. “Now.” She frowned, looking to me. “Are you sure about…this?”

“Mom.” I held on to her shoulders; she was being ridiculous. “You like Hannah. I like Hannah. Why wouldn’t I be sure? You're finally getting the daughter you always wanted.”

“I know.” She placed her hand on my chest. Even with heels, she was still a full head shorter than me. “I just can’t shake this feeling. Who knew letting you go would be so hard?”

My mother and her dramatics,
I’d thought. If only we had listened to her gut.

“You still have me,” Logan added, proving he was more like her than our father.

We both looked at him before turning away.

“Wow! Okay, I see how it is,” he muttered before walking toward the door, leaving our mother laughing.

“If your father was still with us, I’m sure he would have been proud of the man you’ve become, Eli. I know I am.” She wiped away a few tears.

I wasn’t sure what else to do but give her my arm. I was never the affectionate one, but that day I went through so many different emotions.

She held on to me tightly as we entered the grounds. She and Hannah had gone crazy with the decorations, but they really enjoyed it, and I honestly didn't care. I just wanted to skip to the important part.

I stood in front of all our family and friends with Logan to my left. Finally the music started, and my gaze shot toward the doors of the mansion, waiting for them to open. I had known she would be beautiful, but she was absolutely radiant.

God, I’m so lucky.

With every step she took, the grin on my face grew, until her hand was in mine.

“You look beautiful,” I whispered.

She smiled, but didn’t say anything in return. In that instant, as the pastor began to speak, all the moments we’d ever shared together played in my mind: the very first time we met…our first operation together…first kiss…first night… Everything ran though my mind like a movie, the highlights of our life.

And this is just the beginning of so much more. Today is—

“Hannah,” someone called.

Hearing her name pulled me from thoughts. My head snapped to the man standing in the aisle with his hand outstretched to my soon-to-be-wife.

“Sebastian?” Logan questioned beside me.

Sebastian… The man calling out to my Hannah was Sebastian Evans, one of Logan’s closest friends. We weren’t close, but I knew of him.

“Hannah,” he called again.

Enough!
My mind hollered as I took a step forward, but it was too late.

Hannah released my hand. She let go and never looked back as she ran toward him.

I stood there, too shocked to move or speak. That moment was hell on earth.

For hours, I could not speak. My mind was blank. I tried to understand, but my brain, my heart—both were shot. I leaned on the balcony of the dressing room, staring out at the ocean until the sunset. Only then did I regain function of my body, and I ran. Stupidly, I ran out toward the front. All the guests, with the exception of family and the cleaning crew, had left. When I got outside, I saw my brother ripping the “Just Married” sign from the Bentley.

“Eli—”

“Keys.” I walked around to the driver's side of the car. As I opened the door, I saw a woman dressed in blue step in front of me. She had long wavy brown hair and warm brown skin. Her brown eyes were now puffy and red, presumably from crying. She stood tall with her head held high.

 “This is your number, right?” She pointed to the phone number on the RSVP card before quickly texting something on her phone and adding, “Please kick his ass.” She turned toward her taxi without waiting for another word from me.

“Gwen!” Logan called out to her before groaning. “Jesus. He was her fucking fiancé.”

Feeling my phone vibrate, I pulled it out of my coat pocket.

He left his email open on my phone. I got a confirmation for a room they just booked.

Prescott Hills

Montauk, NY

Room 1204

“Eli, don’t—”

Ignoring him, I got into the car, and without a second thought I drove, the rage in me growing with each passing mile. I gripped the steering wheel, gritting my teeth  as I thought. They were no more than twenty minutes away from the chaos they had unleashed on my life.

When I pulled up at the Prescott Hills, I was prepared to kick the door down. I immediately saw both of them walking toward me, completely oblivious, still holding those godforsaken hands.

“Eli!” Hannah gasped, no longer in her dress, now wearing jeans and a gift shop shirt.

Ignoring her, my fist collided with his jaw and he fell against the wall, but that didn’t stop me. Grabbing him by the collar, I kept punching until my knuckles cracked on his face.

“STOP! Eli! Stop or I will call the cops, I swear,” she yelled.

I wanted to kill him, but by some miracle, I managed to stop. “Call the cops?” I stood rigid, ignoring the pain in my hand and the fucker at my feet. “What's stopping you, Hannah? Make this day even more special!”