Compass (Siren Songs Book 2) (28 page)

Rachel’s enraged. “She means where the hell is the rest of you, Piper? For the love of God, how much weight have you lost?”

Sutton cries quietly next to me furiously blotting at her eyes to keep mascara from running down her cheeks ruining her makeup.

I fight the emotions, willing myself not to break down, not today. It’s not fair to Cam; this isn’t about me. Today is her day.

“Can we talk about this another day, guys? Today’s Cam’s day. We don’t need to ruin it with this,” I plead, begging them with my eyes to drop the subject.

“Nope.” Cam speaks up. “We’re not dropping anything. Wedding be damned. They can all wait. What is going on, Piper?”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Life’s been really hard the last year. The last month has been pure hell. You guys haven’t been around, my family disappeared, but if I’m being honest, I miss my husband. I’m lost without him, even the broken version of him.” I choke on the words as the tears cascade in steady streams, dripping from my chin. I don’t try to stop them or save the makeup. They pushed for this, so they get what they get. “I miss Moby. I miss the man I married. I haven’t talked to him since the day I walked out of the hospital. Not one word. I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

They all stare at me wild-eyed like I’m crazy, and nothing I’m saying is reality. I didn’t want to do it but if they want the full picture. “I’m filing for legal separation on Monday. He’s not coming back, guys. I fucked up. I thought making the decision for him would force him to fight for himself. It just pushed him away.”

Another thump on the door but this time the person on the other side doesn’t wait for an answer, the crazy bat of a wedding coordinator sweeps her plump little body in.

“Oh, no. Child. Not you again.” Her Southern drawl lingers in the air. She pushes the girls out of the way. “Y’all finish dressing. We walk in ten, and my weddings do
not
start late.”

She waddles over to a bag on the counter, apparently one of her own, and sticks her stumpy fingers in pulling out a cosmetic bag. With my chin in her hand, she blots the tears away with a tissue and begins resurrecting my makeup. “Stay put,” she commands before walking to the mini-fridge and returning to my side. She hands me two little cold compresses. “Put these on your eyes so they don’t puff up. Normally it’s the bride who needs them, but she looks pretty secure.” She winks at me right before the green gel packs cover my lids.

I set the forgotten package in my lap, holding the fake cucumbers on my face. The coolness is melting away the burn of the emotion I couldn’t contain. The clap of hands brings me back to the present where Lady Bossy is gathering everyone into a line.

Kneeling next to me, the tubby little wedding coordinator whispers in my ear, “I’m going to give you a minute to open whatever’s contained in the precious little box. Must be pretty important for a bridesmaid to get a gift instead of the bride.”

“Oh shit!” Cam hollers out. “Your bridesmaid gifts.” As she scurries about producing little packages for each girl, she encourages us to tear them open and put on their gift, I tune them out.

I have no idea who the box is from. I don’t know anyone who does calligraphy, and it doesn’t say on the package. My shaky hands untie the ribbon, and then carefully remove the paper. I find a gold box. It’s small and flat, adorned in elaborate scrollwork. Lifting the antique lid, there’s an old, although ornate, compass. Confused by the gift, I turn it over in my hand and inscribed on the back,
Let your heart be your compass.

Sometime between Cam running around handing out presents and me opening mine, she opened my bridesmaid gift for me. She finally seems satisfied after she puts the jewelry around my neck and pokes my ears about a hundred times to get the studs in my lobes.

“Up, up. Come on. It’s time to get married.” She’s giddy with excitement. I can’t blame her. I felt the same thing knowing I was on my way to meet my husband.

Setting the odd gift aside, I tuck it neatly in my bag along with the wrapping paper and bow. I’m determined to find out who sent it to me later but for now, I join my friends in line.

When the doors to the sanctuary open, I can’t see anything through the sea of people in attendance. There’s not an empty seat in the entire church. Rachel starts the procession being the shortest in the group. When she reaches the halfway point, Charlie takes her lead, at her mark, I’m up next.

My forearms touch my pelvic bones, so the bouquet doesn’t cover up the dress, and I smile for the audience waiting to see Cam. Just as I reach the mark that sets Sutton in motion, I begin to see the men. My smile widens at the sight of Dax. He’s one good-looking man but he’s waiting to see the only woman he’ll ever have eyes for and it’s not me. With each row I pass, one more groomsman comes into view until I reach the third.

Moby.

I can’t take him in fast enough. There’s no sign of the broken spirit I left in the hospital bed. Standing in front of me is the closest resemblance I’ve seen to the man I married since the stroke.

In the same tux his brothers have on, he stands tall and proud. His cerulean eyes beam directly at me. His shoulders broad once again, his back tall, and he’s definitely put on weight. He no longer looks sick and frail. He looks content. Genuinely happy.

Without me.

The look I believed to be for me must have come at the same time he caught a glimpse of the bride farther up the aisle. Everyone stood just when I reached my place at the pulpit. The sting of rejection cuts deeply but I won’t let this ruin her day.

Forcing myself to focus on Cam, once I find her, I see her dress for the first time. I hadn’t even noticed her gown when she was putting it on. The discussion regarding my health and opening the compass distracted me. She’s very fashion forward, but simultaneously classic. Coupled with her lifestyle choices I had no idea what to expect her to show up in. It wouldn’t have surprised to see her in one of those sexy little numbers that look like lingerie except she would think it’s disrespectful to Dax. Oddly, what she has on is completely her.

Sheer hints of cap sleeves grace her delicate shoulders, attaching to a sweetheart neckline, accentuating her assets, but not exposing them. The dress fits through the waist, where it flares out into a ball gown bottom, complete with what must be a ten-foot train. The ivory fabric is crusted from top almost to the bottom in crystals and intricate beadwork. There’s roughly a six-inch section just before the hem with no embellishment in a scalloped design. The sparkles resume along the bottom, following the hem all the way down the train.

She looks like a million dollars, and I’d kill to see the look on Dax’s face at this very moment. Seeing hers tells me all I need to know. She fought this tooth and nail. She didn’t want to relent to him, but somehow he knew she was it. When she finally conceded, she realized he gave her the world. There are no two people better paired than Dax and Cam.

I used to think the same of Moby and me, but somehow Mother Nature became his mistress and ripped that away from the two of us. Unexpectedly, she just walked in like a greedy whore and stole my husband’s vibrancy, and in turn, him.

Forcing myself back to the present, I listen as the minister goes through the ceremony. I watch my friend seal a covenant with her soul mate. I’m so proud of how far she’s come since that night in the alley when circumstances and a psychopath tried to ruin her. Maybe it means there’s still happiness out there waiting for me, too.

The congregation erupts in applause, bringing me back to the present. Announcing, Mr. and Mrs. Dax Cooper, the happy couple begins the procession up the aisle. With each of us meeting our counterpart in the middle to be escorted out on the arm of one of the Coopers or the Wrights.

I steel my resolve, hardening my protective wall the moment I link arms with Moby to stroll up the aisle with him. I adorn my face with the pretense of happiness people expect to see, as does he. I don’t attempt to communicate. I can’t afford to break down in front of two hundred-plus people.

The moment we break through the doors leaving the sanctuary, the wedding coordinator, God I wish I remembered her damn name, starts barking orders about who has pictures when and where. I manage to cling to the heels of the Fish, minus Cam, narrowly escaping a showdown with Moby.

The last time I saw him, he had been pretty cruel, accusing me of things I could never in my wildest dreams imagine. I couldn’t bear the thought of him pulling a stunt like that here, not that I think he would ruin his brother’s wedding day, but no need to tempt fate.

The nice thing about a large wedding party and even bigger family is tons of pictures that go on forever. It’s easy to avoid any type of intimate or inappropriate conversation with your Aunt Matilda standing next to you, along with every other member of your family.

I’m starting to wonder if malnutrition is wrecking havoc with my mental state. It seems as if everyone here knows something I don’t. They all seem to be politely staring at me and not the bride. As if they’re in on some secret no one bothered sharing with me. They have some morbid curiosity regarding the separation. It’s quite possibly my imagination. I feel like the odd man out. Many of the people here are relatives by marriage, but it still counts, and none of them act like they even know me. Just as my paranoia is about to get the best of me, the bridesmaids and bride are called away from the group to take the girly pictures.

“
B
rooks
!” I chase after my brother the moment Piper’s out of sight.

“Yeah, bro, what’s up?”

“Did you not give her the gift?”

“Of course. Just like you told me to. Why?”

“She’s cold. She won’t even look at me. You guys promised me this was temporary. I’ve worked my ass off day in and day out trying to prove myself. Why’s she brushing me off?” I’m trying not to blow a gasket, but I’m out of options. I don’t have any more tricks up my sleeve. I played the only hand I have.

For the last five weeks, I’ve worked out for grueling hours a day, each of my brothers and her friends adding something to the daily regime. I’ve been in the gym with my buddies and co-workers who’ve pushed me harder than I ever pushed when I was healthy. There’ve been days I worked out more than I slept. My muscles have ached, I’ve been tired as hell, but I stayed focused to show her how much I love her and that I’m committed as fuck.

I haven’t reached out one time, there’ve been nights I took my phone to my mom and told her not to let me have it back because the urge to call her was so great, but I had to focus on getting back to where I needed to be. I still have a long way to go, but I didn’t chase my wife out of that hospital room because my brother promised me he’d help me get her back. Now here I have another one of these asshats I’m related to trying to calm me down and keep me from running after the only damn thing in my life that matters. My wife!

“Calm down, man. She was just in a wedding. You know, the same one you were in. The one your oldest brother had the leading role in. Shut up, dude. Maybe she can’t handle what I’m sure will be a girly breakdown in front of all these people. Have you thought for one second about what the last month has been like for her?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Sometimes you really are the dumb one.” He shakes his head at me before going on. “For one minute, did you ever think about the fact her friends were with you every night?”

“So?”

“Jesus, Moby! Wake up! That means they
weren’t
with her! They all backed her up on this plan to separate from you and then it appears they all bailed on her. She has no idea who’s still in her corner—if anyone. I mean, really, man, did you
see
her?”

“Yeah, I saw her. Of course, I saw her. Why would we be having this conversation if I hadn’t?”

He smacks me upside the head a little harder than I would care for. “She’s sick, Moby.”

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” I hadn’t noticed anything wrong with her. She looked gorgeous in her yellow dress. I wanted her to stop and acknowledge me, kiss me, hold my hand, anything, on her way to her spot.

“I’m not a doctor, but she’s lost an unhealthy amount of weight. She looks like a strong wind will blow her over.”

“No, she didn’t.” She looked as beautiful as she always does. Having run off with the bride, I can’t find her to show him.

“She’s been alone for weeks, Moby. I mean really alone. Don’t be surprised if the woman you’ve been fighting for isn’t fighting for herself.”

Slapping me on the shoulder, he turns to mingle with other guests. In an effort to help pass the time, I do the same, promising myself the moment I see her I will talk to her.

* * *

I
’ve never been more
thankful in my entire life that Piper and I eloped. I cannot imagine having corralled people the way we have been tonight. I realize it’s a huge crowd, but we are people, not sheep. Every moment of the evening has been precisely planned by either Cam or her wedding guru, who seems more like a drill sergeant than an event coordinator. At the very least, there’s no way I could possibly be sitting at another table.

When guests begin to take their seats after the cocktail hour, I finally spot her. My heart breaks. Brooks was right. There’s almost nothing left of my soul mate. She looks like a skeleton. The skin barely hangs on her body. This didn’t all happen in the last month. Looking back, I knew she was losing weight—and not in a healthy way—but I was so consumed by my own turmoil I didn’t recognize how serious things were. The last month has just about killed her. I doubt she weighs a hundred pounds.

The constriction of my chest makes it hard to breathe. My only concern is getting to my wife and protecting her. She can fight me off, tell me to go to hell, but I’m going home tonight. I’ll sleep in a separate bed if I have to, but she’s not doing life alone for one more day. I wonder how no one else noticed. Cam and Dax see her every day at work. It pisses me off, but that’s a battle for another time.

Forcing my way through the crowd, inch by fucking inch, I get closer and closer. With a couple people between us, I can’t take it anymore. It’s inappropriate, but no matter how hard I try, I’m unable to reach her. My brother’s going to kick my ass for this stunt but what the hell, he’ll have to wait a week to do it since he’s leaving the country in a few short hours.

Pulling out one of the chairs, I climb up, standing in it, “Piper Cooper!” I holler over the heads of those around me. The noise stops completely as does all movement. I anticipated gaining her attention but not that of every person on the guest list. I hear my mother in the distance berating me.

“Yes, you!” I point at her. “I’ve been trying to get to you all night.”

She looks mortified as the focus shifts from me to her. Hissing at me, “
What
are you doing, Moby?” Her gaze moves nervously around the room to the people staring at her.

“I’m trying to get my wife’s attention.” I flash the smile she always loved trying to win her affection.

“You have it. Could you
please
get down before Cam castrates you?” She says it as quietly as possible, but the people around her still laugh. There aren’t many here who don’t know what we’ve been through in the last year and even fewer who’d be surprised by my willingness to go to the edge of the world to keep her with me.

I’d be willing to bet both Dax and Cam knew when they conspired to keep me from Piper until their wedding night the complications that could arise. Lord knows they’ve both listened to me whine enough about her over the last few weeks.

Stepping down from the chair, the audience resumes their own conversations as Piper meanders to me, sneaking under people’s arms and sliding through tiny spaces I’d never have gotten through.

Standing in front of me is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, inside and out. Why she ever consented to be my wife, I’ll never know, but she committed, and I’ll be damned if I’m letting her off the hook.

“Cam’s going to eat you for dinner, you know that, right?”

“I don’t care.”

“Can we not do this here, Moby? Please? I just can’t handle it. Everyone’s already staring at me like they know some deep dark secret I don’t. I just can’t endure more.”

“Sure, we can do it when we get home,” I smirk at her, but the implication seems to be lost on her. Where I’m trying to be playful, she assumes I’m being cruel.

“Yeah, okay.” With her eyes cast to the floor, her tiny shoulders slump in defeat. When I reach for her to pull her to me, she flinches and assumes a defensive posture. I withdraw, unsure of how to proceed. At least I’ve got the go ahead to join her at the house. When she turns to find her seat, I notice the severe bones in her shoulders and her spine protrudes. People aren’t staring because they know a deep dark secret—they’re staring because they see the same thing my brother did.

Dinner is sheer agony. The food is amazing, but I can’t bother to eat it watching my wife simply play with hers to keep up appearances. Each course is taking longer than the previous. People in attendance are enjoying themselves, except Piper and me. But no matter how hard I try to get her to engage, she resists, feigning interest in another conversation taking place simultaneously. She gets along swimmingly with Sutton’s plus one, who I’ve never seen before. I refuse to let it irritate me or derive even the slightest bit of jealousy. He’s some one-time asshat I’ll likely never see again.

I don’t want to make her feel awkward by begging her to eat, and I don’t want to cause a scene by forcing her to talk to me, but hell, we haven’t been in the same room in over a month. She could at least throw me a bone.

After the cake cutting, my brother and Cam take the floor, then the obligatory mother–son, father–daughter horseshit. I wonder how many more of these I’ll have to endure before they call it a night, and let the rest of us go home.

When the bandleader calls the rest of the population to the floor, I see Piper hugging Cam and Dax as if she’s saying goodbye. She clings to Cam a little longer than I would’ve expected but I can’t hear the exchange from across the room. By the time I make it to my brother’s wife, Piper’s nowhere to be found.

“Where’d she go?” I ask frantically. Frustrated at my inability to keep tabs on her this evening.

“Home, didn’t she tell you? She said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“No, Cam. She hasn’t spoken to me all night.” Dragging my hands through my hair, I let out an exasperated sigh.

“She said she was going to get her stuff from the dressing room we were in. Her car’s out back where the limo dropped us off. I’m sure you can catch her.”

I kiss Cam on the cheek as my brother wishes me luck, and then I take off in a full sprint to find my wife.

* * *

K
nocking
on the door to the dressing room to keep from startling her, she calls out to come in.

Looking up from her hands, I find she already changed clothes and is back in her hoodie and jeans. It must be eighty degrees outside but I imagine with as little body fat as she’s currently carrying around she likely stays cold. When she sees me, she stuffs her hands in the pocket of her sweatshirt in an attempt to hide whatever she was focused on before I interrupted.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting my stuff. Do you want to meet me there?”

“No, my car’s already at the house. Dax picked me up there this afternoon.”

She’s confused and doesn’t understand this has been my plan since she walked out of the hospital. Well, right after Dax and I got into a screaming match, and he punched me in the face. After that, this became my plan.

She doesn’t resist or argue just rises to her feet, grabs her purse and garment bag. I take the dress from her, holding the door open for her to walk through. I feel like I’m walking to my own funeral as I follow her to the car. Nothing’s going as planned. This is not how I saw tonight playing out.

When we both go to the driver’s side of the car, I simply hold my hand out for the key. When she hands it to me, I unlock the doors, put her dress in the back and walk her around to the passenger side to let her in. She takes her seat without a word spoken between us.

There’s so much I want to say to her—things I need her to understand about the last month, but the ride home just doesn’t seem to be the place to do it. I don’t want to get into a deep discussion, and either have to continue it sitting in our driveway or interrupt it by going inside. I opt for silence during the ten-minute drive home. I steal glimpses of her when I turn corners, but her stare never waivers from the passenger window. What I wouldn’t give to step into her thoughts for just a moment to know what I’m facing.