Outside the Lines (Rebel Hearts #1) (27 page)

My heart stops in my chest. He mentioned it just once, while we were fighting. His father has memory issues and needs constant care. Oh fuck.
 

“He’ll talk about it when he’s ready,” I say and keep walking. “Bye.”
 

She doesn’t say “see you this weekend at the wedding,” thank God. Though, she still might show up. Who knows. I get what I need, pay for it, run to the ladies’ room, and high-tail it home. I have some research to do.
 

*

Within an hour, I know that Ben’s father lives at Meadow View Centers in downtown Grand Rapids. I hacked into the admission records, but drew the line at digging into medical records. I’m no criminal anymore.
 

His father was admitted a month before Ben moved here from New York.
 

It all makes sense now, and it hurts my heart even more. Ben left his dream job, left a potential for national recognition and fame as an artist for his family. He really wasn’t anything like the player I thought he was, that I knew he really isn’t. I was so scared of what
could
be, I let what actually is fly right by.
 

I close my laptop and bite my lip, trying to decide what to do.
 
I pick up the phone and punch in the number for Meadow View. It rings for a long minute before someone answers.

“Hi, is James Hartford available?” I ask the nurse.
 

“He’s in the dining room eating dinner,” she says and relief floods through me. “Can I take a message?”

“No,” I say, relieved even more. I didn’t actually want to talk to him. “I’ll call back. Thanks, bye.” I hang up before I’m questioned and hope they don’t check the caller ID.
 

Ben’s dad is alive at least, though I know that didn’t mean he was “okay” by any means.
 

I sigh. Now what? Should I call Ben again? Give it just one more shot? I don’t want to come across as desperate, but that’s exactly what I am.
 

And people do desperate things for the ones they love.
 

I call Ben, hands shaking as the phone rings. He doesn’t hang up, but he doesn’t answer.

“Ben,” I say to his voicemail. “It’s me. I’m sorry, and I miss you. Can we please talk in person? I … I just need to know.”
 

I hang up and close my eyes, wondering how long it will take before I’m back to my old self. I was happy. A little lonely, yeah, but I was doing all right. Living and loving life and just being me.
 

I want that again, but not as much as I want Ben.
 

*

I didn’t get the dress altered in time before I passed out on the floor of my guest room. I woke up at 4 AM, crawled into bed, and slept for two more hours until my alarm blared. Then I called into work and said I was sick.
 

I’m feeling guilty now as I sit behind the sewing machine. Cameron is concerned; he said he noticed how quiet I’ve been over the last few days and wants me to take it easy so I can get better and be back to my old self Monday morning.
 

I let out a breath and cut a thread. Almost done. I like making costumes, but altering this dress made out of horribly flowy material … not so much. It didn’t take much work. I had to shorten the hem and let it out around the boobs. I pull out the pins, snip any extra hanging threads, and try it on.
 

Perfect fit.
 

Finally. I wrinkled the dress when I altered it, so I take it into the bathroom, hang it on the shower curtain, and get my steamer. I never realized how helpful being into costuming would be. Not everyone has a vast array of thread colors or steamers available in their homes.
 

I clean up and start packing my bag. I need something fancy to wear to the rehearsal dinner tonight, since the Boba Fett dress probably won’t go over well with my parents. I settle for a plain black dress and my Harry Potter heels. I gather everything I’ll need for tomorrow and load up the car. I lose myself in League of Legends for a while, until it’s ready to say bye to Ser Pounce and make the long drive home alone.
 

The house is empty when I arrive. I assume everyone is at Jake’s or the hotel where family is staying. I use the time alone to take everything up to my room. I had planned on staying in one of the available cabins with Ben, but that’s not really necessary anymore.
 

I take my computer downstairs, find the leftover booze from last weekend’s party, and pour myself a glass of red moscato. Then I settle on the couch and make it through one-and-a-half episodes of
Supernatural
before my parents come home.
 

“Oh good, you’re here!” Mom says as soon as she walks through the door. She’s wearing those temporary Styrofoam flip-flops they put on you when you get a pedicure. Dammit. I knew there was something I was supposed to do. I bend my legs and hide my feet under my body. There is nail polish in the upstairs bathroom. Left over from my childhood, but if I shake it enough it’ll be okay. Right? I hope so.
 

I cannot get my shit together to save my life.
 

“Where else would I be?” I ask her.
 

“I called you and you didn’t answer!”
 

“Oh, yeah, left my phone upstairs.” I pause the episode, leaving Dean in an awkward position with Castiel. I snicker to myself.
 

“Did you remember your dress?”

“Yes.”
 

“And your shoes?”

“Yes, Mom.”
 

“And the necklace Danielle got you?”

I tap my neck. “I’m wearing it.”
 

Mom sets her purse down and comes into the living room. “Good.” She inhales and closes her eyes for a second before exhaling. “I’m so nervous. I’m having heart palpitations.”
 

“Calm down, Mom. The last thing we need is you passing out.”
 

“I’m not going to pass out. Why, do I look like I’m going to pass out? I’m not pale, am I? I skipped the sunscreen a few times this summer to get a glow.” She spits that all out rather quickly.
 

“No, Mom, you look gorgeous. The tan is very youthful. Just relax. Danielle has that fancy wedding planner, and everything else is all set. It’s going to be perfect.”
 

Mom smiles at me. “Yes, it is. And I’ll worry more at your wedding, anyway. At least I’m not paying for this one.”
 

I roll my eyes.
 

“Speaking of,” she stars. “Where is your hunky boyfriend, Ben?”

I clench my jaw, locking eyes with my mother. I want so badly to tell her everything, to cry and blame myself for losing him, and to have my mommy hug me and tell me it’s going to be okay. Life sucks for a while for everyone, but then things get better. They always do. They have to.

But I don’t tell her.
 

She’s already stressed and this weekend is all about Jake. I don’t want to take that away from him, and I don’t want my mom to worry any more than she already is.
 

“He had this big art event he couldn’t turn down. Something about investors in New York,” I say, unable to look at Mom as I lie. I go back to my computer, trying to seem uninterested. “He’ll try to come tomorrow.”
 

“Oh, what a shame. But I understand. And your cousin Randy will gladly fill in for him if he can’t make it.”
 

“Ew, Mom, that’s super creepy.”
 

She waves her hand in the air. “No, he just looks up to you.”
 

“Mom. He has a picture of me hanging in his room. And his locker at school.”
 

“He graduated high school this past year. So just one picture of you.”
 

I wrinkle my nose. “The one in the room is the creepiest. It’s right above the lotion and tissues.”
 

“Why would he—oh, don’t go there, Felicity.”
 

“You’re the one who brought it up.”
 

She presses a smile and shakes her head. “I’m going to get everything ready for tomorrow. Do you want me to pack you snacks?”

I raise my eyebrows. “Do you have to ask?”
 

“That’s my girl. There is chicken salad in the fridge. Eat something before we leave. We’re going to the venue after the rehearsal so dinner won’t be until later. Danielle wants everyone there in case the planner needs help.”
 

I roll my eyes. “What’s the point of hiring a planner if we have to help her? Jake told me what that lady cost.”
 

Mom purses her lips. “It’s her day. Just go with it and then you won’t have to see her until Thanksgiving.”
 

“Fine.” I won’t go into why it’s not just Danielle’s day, but Jake’s too. I finish my episode of
Supernatural
, eat, then go upstairs to do my hair and change. I’m ready before Mom, and join my dad on the couch.
 

“You don’t seem like yourself, kiddo,” he says, even though he’s only seen me in passing since I got here.
 

I force a smile. “Just tired, that’s all.”
 

Dad nods, not convinced. I turn back to the show he’s watching. As much as I’d like to think I could totally survive the zombie apocalypse, I know I wouldn’t last two days on
Naked and Afraid
. I shudder at the thought of bugs in my coochie.
 

Mom’s running late, and is getting bitchy at Dad like it’s his fault. He shakes his head. This happens a lot, and he’s used to it. We pile into the car and drive to the church. Dark clouds are gathering overhead. None of us say anything, but I know we’re all thinking it: Danielle is going to lose her shit if it rains.
 

Though Danielle isn’t originally from Mistwood, the small, beach community is picture perfect for her wedding. Any wedding, really. I’ve driven past this old place of worship many times but haven’t been inside. It’s white with a tall steeple that has a bell tower and flowering bushes around the church front.
 

It looks like something straight out of a Lifetime Movie Channel wedding special. I’m not expecting this ball of emotion to roll around like lead in my stomach, choking me up and bringing tears to my eyes. I blink and turn away from my parents, inhale then press forward and walk into the church behind them. I’m so happy for Jake, proud he manned up over the years and is ready to settle down and be a husband.
 

And I’m so pissed at myself for hurting Ben. For throwing away my chance at maybe—just maybe—being a wife someday. Another deep breath. Hold it. Let it out slow. Okay. I’m feeling a bit better.
 

Danielle is sitting on a stool near the altar, with her bridesmaids gathered around her. I would have been totally fine
not
being one. I’m only included because I’m Jake’s sister, not because Danielle and I have any sort of friendship going.
 

Zoey turns and gives me the side eye. Great. I’d nearly forgotten about her. I channel my inner Hermione once again, reminding myself that what is right isn’t always easy—thanks, Dumbledore for that one—and fake a smile. I go to the rest of the bridesmaids and tell Danielle she looks so pretty.
 

Ten awkward minutes tick by as we wait for the last to arrive, then start the rehearsal. It’s a standard church ceremony: we walk in, take our places at the altar, wait for the bride … blah, blah, blah … and then we get to sit for the church part of the wedding. Danielle is already crying as she walks down the aisle, carrying a bouquet of ribbons and bows. Then I see the way Jake is looking at her and, fuck, I’m a goner too. I hold in my tears, crying on the inside like a winner.
 

We run through the procession five times. Five. Anyone who’s seen a wedding movie knows how to do this. Even the priest looks bored when Danielle wants to go over it one more time.
 

Finally, we’re done practicing the lineup. My stomach grumbles and I think we’re going to go to the venue but nope, the photographer is here to take pictures. Is that a thing now? I’m glad I did my hair and makeup.
 

Forty-five minutes later, we run through the parking lot, dodging raindrops, and load into the cars. The venue is about half an hour away, and the rain slows things a bit. The hall is rather new, having opened two years ago, and is gorgeous.
 

I stop when I go through the entrance, stepping into a two-story foyer. The ballroom is directly ahead of us, and the large, double doors are closed tight with a sign on the door telling staff not to enter. A curved staircase sweeps around, the balcony running the length of the building. Deep-red, velvet carpet lines the stairs, and everything has a rich, country club feel to it.
 

The wedding planner beams and tells Danielle and Jake to close their eyes. The photographer snaps pictures while her assistant records the reveal. Even I’m feeling the anticipation when the planner slowly opens the doors. Danielle squeals with excitement and the bridesmaids start gushing on and on about how pretty things are. I hang back with my parents, letting the others go in first, then follow.
 

The lighting is low and everything is set perfectly. Okay, yeah … this is pretty fucking impressive. My mind wanders to how much each large centerpiece costs as I admire the satin bows tied to each chair. This looks like something out of a magazine, and I start to get a little bit more excited for tomorrow.
 

There is an open bar, after all.
 

Danielle goes through things with the planner and has nothing to change. I’d be surprised if she did since everything is so beautifully put together. I might not be able to ever afford this planner, but I want her business card just in case.
 

It’s raining even harder when we leave the venue and head to the restaurant. Mom is sure the sky will get the rain “out of its system” by tomorrow, but when Dad pulls up the radar, it doesn’t look like Mother Nature agrees.