Best Man for the Wedding Planner

“I slept most of Sunday and into Monday. Thank you for the fruit basket, by the way. And my friend Harper—the photographer from the wedding—brought me soup. I took it easy and ate well and now I just have a lingering cough. Nothing serious. It was short but nasty.”

“You scared me to death when you fainted.” Watching her eyes roll and her knees buckle had made his heart miss a beat. It had only taken a second to lunge forward and catch her. Wise or not, there was no way he wanted her to go home alone when she was clearly so ill.

Their drinks came and he lifted his cup. She did the same, took her first sip, and then put it down and met his gaze evenly. “So, why did you ask me here, Dan?”

He swallowed the hot liquid and regretted it, as it burned its way down his throat. He coughed and reached for his napkin, and then his water glass. When he looked up again, her eyes were twinkling at him. She’d enjoyed his discomfort and he couldn’t really say he blamed her. He’d kind of put her on the spot with the invitation.

“I wanted to apologize. Things got heated Sunday morning and I didn’t like how we left things.” He paused, turning his coffee cup around in a circle on the table. Then he looked up again and admitted what had been on his mind for the last two days. “When we broke up, it was very...acrimonious. I didn’t want to do that this time. If we’re going to say goodbye, I would like it to be on friendly terms.”

At her confused look, he amended, “I mean, when we say goodbye, of course.”

“Of course. Because you’re only here until...”

“Sunday night. Then a stop at the Calgary offices for a few days and back to Toronto.”

Five more days. He had plans for some skiing and hiking, plus a soak in the hot springs. It had sounded relaxing and somewhat idyllic just a week ago, in the few days before the wedding. Now it was colored with facing Delly again and the tug-of-war of wanting to know the truth and knowing it would probably be better to stay away.

She sipped at her water instead of reaching for her coffee. “So, you asked me here to...what? Apologize? Extend an olive branch?”

“I lashed out on Sunday morning, and it was unfair. Particularly since you were feeling so rotten.”

Their sandwiches came and they halted their conversation as the waitress put the plates down on the table and asked if they needed anything else. When she was gone again, Dan tried once more. “I blamed you back then for ruining my life. Of course you didn’t,” he hurried to assure her, and he meant it. He had a good life. A great career. Nothing was ruined, but rather just tarnished. “I have a good life. I’m happy.”

“So you’ve said,” she replied, her face unreadable.

“And I started blaming you again when I saw you last week in the lobby of the Cascade. The truth is, you left and you must have had a good reason, and me lashing out is just a case of...pride.”

Well, that and a wounded heart, but he wasn’t going to bring that up again.

“I see,” she said, this time reaching for her coffee. She lifted the cup and he frowned a little. Was she hiding behind it? The foam at the top jiggled a little, as if her hand was shaking. Was it? Was she more discomposed than she let on?

“You did have a good reason, right?” he asked, toying with a pickle slice on the side of his plate.

She put down her cup. “I did, Dan. I promise I did. And I know I hurt you, but truly it was to save you more pain down the road.”

Quiet surrounded them again. When it was clear she wasn’t going to elaborate, he defiantly picked up his sandwich and took a bite.

He assumed it was delicious, but the flavor was a bit lost on him now that things had turned awkward. He’d give anything for things to be, well, easier between them again. It would probably never happen, so he finished half his meal before looking up at her again.

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she bit into her sandwich, chewed and swallowed so thickly it looked painful.

His heart seemed to plummet right to his stomach. Crying? Delly? She rarely cried. Never really had. He’d only seen her cry twice before. Once when they broke up, and once at Christmas, when her mom had been going to drive down to Toronto from Sudbury and hadn’t made it because of weather. She’d grown up the very independent child of a very independent single mother and wasn’t prone to tears. That she was so close now unmanned him.

“Delly,” he said gently, ignoring his “pride” and reaching across the table. He circled her wrist with his fingers and she put the sandwich back on the plate. “What is it? I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She shook her head, and two small tears were shaken loose from her lower lids. They dropped down her cheeks, and she gave a small sniff and then cleared her throat. With her free hand, she reached for her napkin and dabbed her cheeks.

“Does this have to do with the reason you left?” he asked, hesitation making his throat tight.

“I can’t talk about it. Not here.” Her voice was a strident whisper, pleading with him to change the subject. But he couldn’t, not yet. He had to know one thing first. Something that had weighed on his mind ever since that awful spring day.

“Was there someone else, Delly? Did you fall out of love with me and in love with someone else? I’ve wondered all these years—”

But his words were cut off by Adele rising abruptly, grabbing her jacket off the back of the chair and rushing outside, leaving her lunch half eaten.

He sat for a moment, unsure of what to do. Go after her? Maybe, but was her exit a tacit admission? What if she had regrets? What then? And he couldn’t just run out without paying the bill. He didn’t have cash on him, so he got up from the table and approached the counter, suddenly weary. He’d wanted to apologize. To leave things less acrimonious than they’d been. Instead he’d upset her and made things worse than ever.

It seemed to take forever for the woman behind the counter to ring through his debit card. He pocketed the receipt and headed out the door, not hopeful he’d see Adele. She was probably long gone by now. He pulled his phone from his pocket, considered sending her a text, but then put it back. Usually he was decisive, making important decisions and following through without second-guessing. But with Delly, it had never been easy. Why was that? he wondered.