Flawlessly Broken: (Broken Series Book 2) (44 page)

I’d been at work the night he called, staying late and doing anything I could to avoid going home to the cold, empty apartment that was filled with memories of people I loved that were no longer there.

I was in the shower the next morning when he sent the text saying, again, that he wouldn’t give up.

I’d nearly given in then, had the phone in my hand and his contact information on the screen, but in the end I’d turned off the phone and wept into my pillow for hours, grieving for the future I’d given up.

The calls had stopped after that. No more texts, no emails. Nothing.

Last week after the wedding in Denson, he’d dropped me at Teach’s and driven off without a word.

I immediately wanted him to turn around, but he hadn’t.

I’d made such a good case for why we shouldn’t be together. And I’d won.

Funny how winning still felt so much like a loss.

Ali popped in and waved me toward the door, telling me the time to start was near. I put my phone away and tiptoed down the hall toward the foyer where the wedding party was to gather prior to the ceremony.

I looked around timidly, trying not to let my trepidation show as I scanned for Spencer.

No sign of him yet. I breathed a sigh of relief. I needed more time to get my head together before I saw him, though I’d had the last week to pump myself up.

He was so angry with me, so betrayed, and he had every right to be. I’d taken what we had, something pure and flawless, and broken it into a million pieces.

Out of fear and shame and regret that I should have let go ages ago.

I’d pushed him away and, despite what he’d said in that voicemail, he’d given up.

There was no one to blame but me. I’d given him no other choice.

But maybe if he knew…

My musings were interrupted by a shimmer of awareness crawling across my skin. I felt him even before he strolled into the room, looking a thousand times sexier in his tux than I remembered from the last time at the tux shop.

My God, he is the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.

His near-black hair was styled back away from his face, looking soft and touchable. His beard was expertly trimmed but still long enough to make my skin tingle with remembered sensation. My tongue made an involuntary pass over my lower lip. I knew I was staring, watching his every move, but I’d gone totally numb as soon as I saw him, and I couldn’t force my gaze away. Frozen on the outside and a raging inferno on the inside.

I’d have to touch him—take his arm and walk down that aisle with a carefree smile plastered on my face.

How the hell was I supposed to do that?

I’d lucked out, and he’d been unable to attend the rehearsal, some emergency with a project the guys were working on, I guess. Either way, Brant had filled in for the walk-through and I’d half-hoped he would just take over the best man duties altogether so I didn’t run the risk of embarrassing myself.

No such luck.

Well, shit.

Turns out, if you stare at someone long enough, they notice.

Spencer was smiling at something one of the ushers said, mumbling a reply as he turned toward me, and we locked eyes.

He kept his eyes on mine, dark and penetrating in a way that made a surge of heat run through my entire body. As he approached, my hands gripped my bouquet so hard the stems wept and nearly dripped on my dress.

Shit. Keep it together, Talia. Don’t let him know he has any effect on you. You can deal with everything else later. Today is about Ali and Clay, not your train-wreck of a love life.

He held out his palm, asking for my hand, which shot out to slip into his of its own accord.
Traitorous appendage.
“Hello, Talia. You look absolutely amazing.” He took in my pale yellow gown. “That color becomes you.” He kissed the back of my hand gallantly before letting it slip through his fingers. “Sorry I missed the rehearsal. I hope you still trust me to get you down the aisle okay.”

His expression asked much more. It was confusing. Why was he flirting when he’d clearly decided to stop pursuing me? Hadn’t he said as much last week? His mood swings were giving me whiplash. It made me a little angry, actually.

“It’s a straight shot. I’m sure you can handle it. Just point us toward the altar and try not to go too fast.”

“Sometimes fast can be a lot of fun.” He seductively arched a brow and I took a moment to wonder whether he meant his car or our lovemaking—or our lovemaking in his car. Not that it mattered.

“Today is not one of those times. Ali will have you knee-capped if you screw up her wedding procession by sprinting down the aisle.” I gave him a bored look, remembering how quickly he’d driven off when I got out of the truck last week. “Don’t worry, it will be over quickly and you can be done with me. For good this time.”

He rocked back as if I’d slapped him, as surprised as I was at the vehemence in my voice.

Shit. Why did I say that? I didn’t mean it. I didn’t want him to be rid of me, never had. So why the hell was I being so snippy? This was not the way to fix things.

Maybe I was hangry. I hadn’t eaten this morning.

Or maybe I was just a bitch.

Shit shit shit.

Before I could find my voice again to apologize, the doors were flung open and music filled the church. The wedding coordinator grabbed him by the lapels and moved him to the back of the room as she lined us all up. Ushers escorted Ali’s mother and Gran out first, a break from tradition that had no doubt been Eileen’s idea. She was never one to miss an opportunity to be the center of attention.

I lingered as long as I could but the wedding coordinator spotted me and, with a dramatic roll of her overly smoky eyes, snagged me by the wrist and tugged me over to stand beside Spencer. I disentangled myself and pulled my wide, diamond-cuff bracelet back into place, not wanting Spencer to see what was hidden beneath.

Not yet, I wasn’t ready yet.

He looked up at the woman’s pinched features as she shoved me close to his side and flicked his gaze to me. Usually, he would have chuckled at her antics and my getting scolded all the way to the back of the room, but he didn’t this time. His face was completely blank, unaffected, and I had to wonder what emotion he was fighting so hard to mask. Annoyance? Anger? Hurt?

The way he’d reacted to my comment had caught me off guard. He was so angry when we talked in Denson, so hurt. He’d seemed to understand some of why I did what I did, but in the end, I knew he hadn’t forgiven me. As we’d driven in silence to Teach’s house, his features seemed to soften and I thought maybe he would stay, try to talk some more, maybe even offer his forgiveness, though I knew I didn’t deserve it.

The way he’d looked at me as I reached for that door handle had gotten my hopes up, like maybe he would pull me back and tell me he loved me. But that hadn’t happened. Instead, I made it halfway to the porch before turning to watch him disappear from my life without a word.

Why wouldn’t I expect him to be eager to be rid of me? He sure as hell was the last time I saw him. He’d taken off so fast the tires chirped.

One by one, the procession entered the church. Everything was going according to the rigidly-enforced plan. Ali’s mother had hired a drill sergeant, not a wedding planner. She was whispering last minute instructions from behind the door even as the couples began their trip down the aisle.

Total Nazi, but she got shit done.

When Spencer and I were nearing the front, she jabbed a finger at us until he offered his arm and I threaded my hand through it, doing all I could to ignore the jolt of awareness that shot through me as I held onto his bicep for dear life and prayed that I could get through this without crying.

If I did break down, I’d just blame it on the occasion. Everyone cried at weddings, right?

The music was beautiful and thankfully loud enough to drown out the sound of my labored breathing. I couldn’t screw this up, but damn, I wanted to turn around and walk out. Or maybe puke… my stomach was churning.

Only for Ali would I endure this shit.

Best fucking bitches, first and foremost.

I could do this for her.

I’d deal with the rest, with Spencer, later.

We were nearing the altar when the congregation around us began to turn and gasp. Obviously Ali was making her entrance.

Spencer ushered me to the front and gripped my hand before I could pull it away. I turned to look at him, annoyed that he was hindering me from seeing Ali come down the aisle.

He pulled me in close and whispered into my hair. “I’ll never be done with you, sweetheart. I thought I told you that.”

He let go and took his place at Clay’s side, a smug look on his face that disappeared when he turned to watch his best friend’s bride approach. There was a flash of pain on his face that he quickly hid behind his mega-watt smile.

Was he thinking of Ivey in that moment? Remembering his own wedding? This ceremony was much more formal, more traditional than the one at the willow. Maybe it had him reminiscing.

About her.

Goddamn it, that thought was the one that broke my resolve. The tears welled and rolled silently down my cheeks as Ali took her place at Clay’s side in a dress that was worlds away from the one she’d worn last week.

It was stunning.

My best friend stood there, looking more beautiful than any princess ever to grace a church. I was so unbelievably happy for her.

She smiled my way and handed me her bouquet to hold until the ceremony concluded.

I avoided looking at Spencer, though I could feel the heat of his stare on me. I watched Ali and Clay, I looked at the stunningly-decorated church, the floor, Ali’s bejeweled train. Anywhere but into those hypnotic black eyes. When the ceremony was halfway over, I shifted the two bouquets in my hands and noticed a tiny slip of paper tucked into Ali’s.

It had my name on it.

I frowned and looked up at Spencer for the first time. Surely he hadn’t had the balls to slip a note to me in my best friend’s bouquet.

He met my eye and lifted a questioning brow, mouthing ‘what’s wrong’ as discretely as possible given that we were standing in front of a couple hundred people.

I looked down at the flowers in my hand and squinted at the scrap of paper, pulling it free with the tips of my fingers and unfolding it carefully, looking around to make sure no one was paying me any attention.

Well, except Spencer who was watching me intently, a curious look on his face.

I looked down at the scrap of paper and didn’t recognize the handwriting, which was too messy to be confused with Spencer’s neat hand.

It read:
Talia—He’s picturing himself standing with you at this altar, you know that right? Your future is waiting for you. Meet it halfway. You won’t regret taking the chance. I sure don’t.—Clay

My face crumpled as I fought for control. I barely caught the sob that welled in my throat, my mind flashing to the pain-filled look on his face a few minutes before.

Was that really because of me? Had he really been wishing it were me coming down that aisle to join him at the altar?

Or had Ali talked Clay into taking one last shot at getting us back together?

It was all I could do to keep myself from breaking down. I had to force myself to breathe deep and focus on the ceremony, not the gut-wrenching devastation that was ripping me in two. I was terrified to let him in again.

And I was terrified not to.

What if they were wrong? Maybe he really had given up. I couldn’t blame him if he had. What I had done to him was unfair, unwarranted, and unforgivable.

I’d made so many mistakes.

Everything had changed for me when I fell for him, and was continuing to change even now. The future I’d pictured for myself had changed so many times over the years that I decided it was best not to plan, not to hope, not to want anything so that I would never have anything to lose. It wasn’t ambitious or brave, but it was smart. It made good sense to my care-worn heart so I went with it.

And he walked in and threatened everything I thought I knew in one fell swoop.

His love had changed everything.

I wanted him back so much it hurt. It was a physical ache that never waned, never rested. And hearing him say he hadn’t given up… had chased it all away.

It wouldn’t be easy, and we both had some things to work through, but standing there on that altar, Clay’s words repeating again and again in my mind, I knew I had to try.

And it had to be today.

As soon as humanly possible, I would remind myself how brave I was and make the move that would change both of our lives forever.

I returned my attention to the ceremony with renewed purpose.

Not much longer.

The vows and rings were exchanged, the couple had a smoldering first kiss that garnered a few whistles, and then Mr. and Mrs. McGavran were presented to us for the first time—as far as most of these people knew, anyway. They laughed, Ali cried, and they made their way back down the aisle as man and wife.

With so many tear-streaked faces in the crowd, mine fit right in.

Tears of joy both for their union and for my future. I was finally going to forge ahead without fear or regret. I was taking my life back.

Spencer stood in front of the altar, waiting to escort me back. I drew in a deep breath and smiled up at him, taking his arm and mentally planning what I would say. I briefly wondered if Ali would be upset with me if I snagged Spencer and skipped the reception, to have this conversation in a less crowded environment.

He leaned down at me then, his voice a hushed exhalation at my side. “What had you so upset? Was that note from Ali?”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t seem to force anything past the lump in my throat, so I just shook my head, practically dragging him forward.

Not here, I can’t do this here.

When we got to the foyer, it was a madhouse. People lingering and hugging each other, talking animatedly about how beautiful the bride was. Clay and Ali had probably already gone to start things off with the photographer.