Best Man for the Wedding Planner

“Reality is overrated,” he replied.

She made a sound of frustration, and he smiled a little.

“Tell me, Delly, if you’re so into reality, why wedding planning? Seems to me that it’s one day that is really overblown and a fantasy. Not really a representation of the reality of marriage.”

“Because that will come soon enough. Commitments take work. Dedication. Even when it’s rough. And at least I can help couples get off to a memorable start.”

“Huh.” It seemed she knew well enough what made a strong relationship. She just wasn’t willing to put in the work with them.

This was it, then. No coming up with workable solutions or plans, no confessions of love and a willingness to try anything to see it through. Instead, this was ending the way he’d expected at the beginning of the week, with a few pleasurable interludes in between. This was goodbye.

“Dan, I’m sorry. I turned this around in my head and—”

He held up his hand. “No, it’s okay. I was just kidding myself, hoping again. You’re right. We spent a few days together, ignoring the ‘reality’ of the situation. I’ll go now, Del. No hard feelings.”

His feelings were hard, indeed, but he didn’t want to leave this with nothing but anger between them. If this was really the end, he wanted them to have a goodbye.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Me too.”

He went to the entry and reached for his jacket. Shrugged it on and turned toward the door, watched as Adele stood there helplessly. He had his hand on the doorknob when he turned around again, cradled her face in his hands and put one final kiss on her lips. They trembled beneath his...or perhaps that was his own. A man shouldn’t have to say goodbye to the woman he loved twice in his life.

Before she could say anything, he turned and went out the door, down the stairs, back to his car. Started it as if on autopilot, backed out of the driveway, made his way to the highway and east toward Calgary.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to live in reality again. And he’d been right, too. Reality sucked.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ADELE STOOD IN her entry for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a minute or two. Certainly long enough for Dan to get in his car and drive away. For good. Long enough for the silence to confirm that he wasn’t coming back. And that she’d pushed him away again.

And while she wasn’t sure what else she could have done, she couldn’t escape the feeling that it was so utterly, utterly wrong.

Quiet footsteps took her back to the living room, where she sank down onto the sofa, staring straight ahead. Numb. She wasn’t really feeling anything at all until Mr. Num-Nums jumped up on the sofa with a soft chirp and climbed onto her lap, all warm and soft and reassuring.

She started to cry. To cry like she hadn’t in years. Not since the day she’d found out she’d need a hysterectomy. Since she’d broken up with Dan the first time, when she’d been so sure she was sending him off to better things and she was dealing with her own crisis. This was different.

Worse. Somehow, this was worse.

She cried into Mr. Num-Nums’s fur and he let her, as if he knew she needed him to stay. After a long time, she sobbed her way to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine, her hand shaking. She sat in the dark and drank it, trying to staunch her tears and get a grip on herself. But nothing chased away the empty hole in the pit of her stomach, the awful burn of knowing he was gone.

At seven o’clock she broke down and called Harper, because she simply didn’t want to be alone anymore.

Harper showed up with emergency wine, chocolate, potato chips and a box of tissues. Arms full, she enveloped Adele in a warm hug, the bags of stuff clunking against Adele’s back. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

“Oh, Harper.”

“Come on. Let’s go in and you can tell me everything.”

Harper took over, pouring more wine, putting chips in a bowl and opening the little box of chocolate truffles. Adele sat on the sofa again, feeling slightly cheered as Harper handed her a glass of wine and a piece of chocolate. “Seriously. Put that in your mouth and let it melt. It’s my Callebaut emergency stash.”

“The fact that you have an emergency stash at all and can stay out of it is testament to your willpower.”

“Don’t be silly. I lock it up at the studio. I have to really want it to go over there and fetch it.”

Adele laughed, something she hadn’t expected to do. She ate the truffle—divine—and sipped the wine. Closed her eyes and let out a big breath.

“Okay,” Harper said firmly. “Now you can tell me what happened that made your face look like crap.”