Then the stupid doors slide together and the aura of hospital infects everything.
"Thanks, Liam." Her fingers brush mine as she takes the cup. "I, uh, I should get back to the city."
"Stay."
"I—"
"For the wedding."
"It's still happening?"
I nod. "Here, at the chapel, instead of on the beach."
"Lee agreed to that?"
"Seemed happy to step up, actually."
"She really does love him."
"Yeah, she does. And she still wears the dress."
"It's a nice dress."
"Intimate this way," I say. "Friends and family only."
"I'm not family."
"You're always family."
She holds my gaze for a moment, then she looks to the ground, hides behind her takeout cup.
"Same time. No dress code."
"I can't wear jeans to a wedding."
She can, but she won't. I know her that well. "Opal's at the house. She'll be glad to see you and I won't…" I don't know what to call it. "I'll be here for a while."
"Thanks, Liam. Really." She looks at me like she's not sure how to say goodbye, then she offers her hand.
"If you think I'm shaking you're out of your fucking mind."
"I am?"
"Yeah. I don't know how I'm going to fix this. I don't know how I broke it. But I'm going to figure it out. And I'm going to do it."
"You didn't break anything."
"Are you coming in the supply closet?"
"That's not sexy."
"Then I did."
"It's not like that. It's… I just… I want all of you. The secrets, the pain, the burdens. I can't settle for anything less."
Then she turns and leaves.
Like it's that fucking obvious she doesn't have all of me.
Like it's that fucking obvious she'll never have all of me.
For a few hours, I join the socializing in Preston's hospital room. We talk around the elephant in the room for a while.
Eventually, he tires of the eggshells, insists we owe it to him to talk about his son's wedding day. Even though Harrison is sitting right there, awkwardly discussing delaying the honeymoon.
Simon and I send Harrison home to get ready. We stay with Preston for a while.
Then Simon takes his turn and I head to the mansion.
The house feels bigger without Briar. Emptier. There's no sign of her stuff in my bedroom. No sign she was ever here.
No sign she ever loved me.
A shower does nothing to clear my head. I dress in the suit I packed, the emerald green tie Harrison requests of his groomsmen, an old pair of cufflinks my dad gave me.
The last gift he gave before he died.
I wander the house, trying to find the warmth Briar took with her. It's not here. It's missing. It's been missing for a long time.
Since we lost Bash.
And before that too. Did a little leak with every loss? Or has it been pouring from the place for my entire life?
Maybe there is a leak and it's up to us to make enough to compensate.
To fill the space with joy, laughter, groans.
I find Opal in the library, in a long fuchsia dress, reading a folded paperback.
She looks up at me and shakes her head. "You're going to fix things with her, right?"
"Nice to see you too."
"Are you leaving?"
"You don't have to come."
"I know." She stands. Sets the book on the shelf. Crosses the room to me. "But you need me."
I expect to prove her wrong, comfort her, at least play up the bullshit for long enough to keep her distracted, but she's right. The second I step into the hospital, my limbs are jelly.
A teenage girl is the only thing holding me together.
It's pathetic.
And it only gets worse when I step into the chapel. See Briar standing next to Lee's sister.
It's a fast wedding, with barely any pomp and circumstance. A chaplain officiates. Lee walks the aisle in a fancy dress. She and Harrison light up the second they lock eyes. Like the rest of the world—and the ugly realities of the day—are gone.
Like they're the only two people who've ever been in love.
I see it. I believe it. I almost understand it.
But after they kiss, and pop champagne, and I try to find Briar, to find some way to articulate the shit running away in my head, I lose it.
She's gone.
Back to the city, to her life, to a life that doesn't involve me.
Chapter Forty-Three
Liam
After the ceremony winds down, I drive Opal home. I set her up in the library, take a shower, debate whether I'm staying or going.
I'm too worn to argue, even with myself. I don't want to be here, but I'm not sure how I'll make it to the city coherent.
I finish, dry, wrap myself in a robe.
Find Simon in my bedroom, sitting on my fucking bed, like Dad, waiting to deliver an important speech.
He's in his suit, not a thread out of place, his hand on the folder from the bottom of my suitcase.
The one with every secret he's hiding.
The one I'm yet to read.