Sleeping With Paris (31 page)

I couldn't believe that Hannah, my seemingly perfect friend with her seemingly perfect life had actually been listening to my advice. And worse, she'd acted on it.

Before I could form a coherent response, Hannah started up again.

“At first it was kind of fun. But then I felt guilty. So guilty it almost made me sick. I could barely look at Mike the next day. That's why I've been such a crazy woman all week. I thought if the wedding was absolutely perfect, it would erase what I'd done. But nothing can erase it. What should I do, Charlotte? I mean, am I making the right decision getting married in the first place?”

I grabbed Hannah's shoulders and looked her in the eye. I'd created this mess, and despite my own personal doubts about marriage, I had to make it right.

“Do you love him, Hannah? Do you love Mike?”

“Yes, of course I do. I love him so much.”

“And do you have any doubts about his love for you?”

She shook her head. “No, he's wonderful. He loves me. He's never given me reason to think otherwise. But what if I'm just being naïve?”

“You're not being naïve. Mike
isn't
like Jeff, Hannah. He's been completely committed to you for years now. And besides, I've seen the way he looks at you. He's totally and completely in love.”

“Thank you . . . but, please don't sugar-coat it just to say what you
think
I want to hear. I know your beliefs on relationships and marriage. And I think you have valid points about all of it. I mean, look at what's happened to you, and to your parents. Excluding what I've just done, do you think my relationship, my future marriage, even has a shot at lasting?”

I reached out and wiped the tear from Hannah's rosy cheek. “If anyone's relationship has a shot, it's yours, Hannah. You guys are going to last. I know it.” I hoped I was right, I really did. All I knew
for sure
though was that I couldn't allow her to cancel her whole wedding based on my anti-relationship ramblings.

“But now I've gone and ruined it. I've betrayed him. How can I go through with the wedding after what I've done? Should I tell him?”

“Hannah, if you tell Mike you slept with another man, you know the wedding will be off.”

Hannah's eyes widened. “Oh my God. I didn't
sleep
with Chris! I would never do that. How could you even think I would do that?”

“Wait, what are you talking about? You said you cheated on Mike, right?”

“Yes, but we didn't have sex. God, what kind of a slut do you think I am?”

“Then what did you do with him?”

“We kissed.”

“This is all over a kiss?”

“Yes! A kiss is very intimate. A kiss can be even more intimate than sex.”

Oh thank God
. I hadn’t
completely
corrupted her.

“Even so, you said you don't have any feelings for this Chris guy, correct?” I asked.

“None.”

“And you're totally in love with Mike?”

“Totally.”

“Okay, here's what you're going to do. You're going to take all of that guilt you're feeling and pass it over to me. This is my fault anyway, Hannah. I had no idea what I'd written would make you doubt your relationship. That was never my intention.” I reached out and grabbed Hannah's hands. “Now close your eyes and squeeze. Squeeze as hard as you can and give me all of that toxic guilt.”

“Charlotte, this is ridiculous.”

“
Hannah.
Just do it.”

“Fine.” She squared her shoulders, closed her eyes, then squeezed my hands so hard I thought my fingers would break. But that's okay. I would take a broken finger if it meant Hannah would walk down that aisle in ten minutes.

She released her grip on my hands, opened her eyes and let out a long sigh. “Thank you, Charlotte. Thank you so much.”

I smiled. “Now you're going to walk down that aisle and marry the love of your life.”

She lunged forward and hugged me as I breathed out my own sigh of relief.

I made a mental note to edit my blog content when I arrived back in Paris. I didn’t need any more friends using
my
anti-love propaganda as an excuse to break up their perfectly good relationships.

God, weddings are
drama.

***

A few minutes later, with my bouquet of pink calla lilies in tow, I lined up with Katie and Hannah's sister in the back of the chapel while Hannah took her dad’s arm and the both of them tried not to cry.

“What was that all about?” Katie whispered in my ear.

“Just a little wedding drama.”
Drama that originated with my freaking blog.
“I handled it though.”

Katie winked at me. “Nice work, lady.”

I leaned back over and whispered one more thing in Katie's ear. “If I ever
do
get married, please remind me to elope. Weddings make people do crazy things.”

Katie stifled a giggle as the massive, wooden doors at the back of the chapel swung open. Then, as a string quartet serenaded us with a gorgeous
Canon in D
, she began her march down the aisle.

When it was my turn, I took a deep breath and walked slowly through the packed church, scanning the crowd for Luc. I needed to see his face. I needed to be reminded of his sincerity, of his support, of his feelings for me. But I couldn't find him.

Instead, without meaning to, I met Jeff's intent stare at the front of the church. I tried to pull my gaze away from his, but I couldn't. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. And despite the ill feelings I'd touted all year about marriage, relationships, and love, in that moment, as I walked toward the man who I would’ve married, I knew that it was all just a front.

What I'd really wanted all along was to have exactly what Hannah and Mike had (well, minus the pre-wedding kiss and freak-out). But I had. I'd wanted
this
more than anything. I'd wanted to walk down this exact aisle, gazing into Jeff's beautiful blue eyes, knowing that I was the only woman in the world he'd ever want. The only woman he would ever love.

But I wasn't the only woman he'd wanted. And his love for me . . . well, I wasn't sure how true it had ever really been.

The hardest part today though was taking in the regret that traced Jeff's sad eyes.

I wanted to stop the wedding and shout at him.
Why then? Why did you do it Jeff? And why did you have to bring her here and shove it in my face one more time? And stop looking at me like that!

Because the more he gazed at me with that sorrowful look in his eyes, the more I missed him. The more I missed us.

Real life isn’t as grand as the movies though, so I kept my mouth shut, tugged a smile onto my lips, then quietly took my place at the altar.

Hannah appeared at the back of the chapel, glowing and gorgeous and white, swishing down the aisle with her teary-eyed father by her side. I remembered then that even if it had been me walking down the aisle to marry Jeff, my parents wouldn’t have even been here together. My family would've been broken.

Why did some people get their happily-ever-after’s, and others didn't?

I bit my bottom lip, telling myself not to cry. But as I watched the way Mike gazed at Hannah, I couldn't help but let a tear slide down my cheek. Hannah was making the right decision. Mike would never betray her. He wasn't like Jeff. He wasn't like my dad.

I felt horrible for inciting such doubt in her when she really did have one of the good relationships. One that would last. Or that at least had a real shot.

But as Hannah's father gave her away, I wondered how you could ever really know for sure? If a good girl like Hannah could stray—even if for a brief moment—anyone could. Marriage vows certainly weren't a fool-proof guarantee that you wouldn't get your heart broken. And an engagement ring wasn't either.

I wiped the tear from my eye, knowing in my heart that there were no guarantees. Falling in love was a risk. A messy one.

I searched the crowd once more for Luc's face. For his chestnut eyes, his sweet smile.

But I couldn't find him.

Instead, I felt Jeff's gaze on me for the entire ceremony, the regret radiating off of him like he was on fire.

***

Back at the hotel, the reception hall was decorated like a mini-wonderland. Bunches of pink and white calla lilies adorned the guest tables which were each surrounded by chairs wrapped in smooth, shimmering white chair covers with thick pink ribbons flowing down the backs. Underneath the glittery white lights which draped from the ceiling, the DJ played a Frank Sinatra tune while guests mingled with flutes of champagne in their hands.

Luc and I wove through the sparkly pink maze to our assigned table. As I plucked a glass of champagne off of the waiter’s tray, I surveyed the guests and spotted Jeff and Brooke across the room. Whew. At least Hannah’s wedding planner hadn’t made a blunder and sat us together. After standing across from Jeff at the altar for the past hour, I couldn’t bear to face him for another second.

A fancy five course dinner and way too many Frank Sinatra tunes later, Luc excused himself to go to the restroom and Katie and Joe headed up to the dance floor. I used my fork to swipe a glob of icing off the delectable raspberry and vanilla wedding cake, but just as I was about to drown my hurricane of emotions in another blast of sugar and alcohol, a familiar scent wafted past my nose. 

Jeff’s cologne.

I lifted my face to find Jeff standing before me.

“Charlotte, can we talk?”

I dropped my fork onto my plate. “What? Right now?”

Jeff took a step closer. “Yes, just hear me out for a minute, okay?”

I glanced nervously around the reception hall, but when I saw that no one was paying any attention to us, I nodded. “Fine. You have one minute.”

Jeff sat down next to me, his big blue gaze intense as he began speaking. “Charlotte, I miss you. I made a mistake. A huge mistake. I don’t love her. I love you. I always have.”

My stomach twisted in knots as I tried not to hear him. Tried to block out his words. Tried to think of Luc. But it was all too much.

“I can’t do this right now, Jeff.” I shot up from the table and raced out of the reception hall.

Just as I stepped onto the elevator though, I heard someone rush in behind me. And as I flipped my head around, I found Jeff staring at me, breathlessly.

The doors closed, and we were alone.

Twenty-one

samedi, le 2 avril

Your instincts will always know the difference between a good man and a bad one;

the trick is in listening to your gut before it’s too late.

“What are you doing?” I asked him frantically. I was done pretending to be calm, cool and collected. I felt anything but.

He charged toward me and laid his hands on my shoulders, the feel of his skin against mine fueling my wild torrent of emotions for him.

“Please, Charlotte, hear me out. I’m different now. I’ve had a lot of time to think about what went wrong, and the mistakes I’ve made. And if you’ll give me a second chance, I promise things will be different.”

“You’re crazy! You’re here with Brooke, and I’m here with Luc. What do you think you’re doing?” I hissed as I willed the elevator to open up on my floor. I needed to get away from him. I could already feel myself falling, plummeting into the depths of his gaze, his touch, his voice. 

  Jeff took a step closer to me, his grip on my shoulders tightening. “I love you, Charlotte. I’ve never stopped loving you.” Then, without warning, he leaned in and pushed his lips onto mine.

I struggled to shove him off of me. “Stop it, Jeff, stop!” I cried. But my efforts weren’t strong enough. He pushed me up against the wall of the elevator and kissed me even harder.

And even though I hated what he had done to me, and I loathed the fact that he had brought Brooke to this wedding, somewhere deep inside of me, it felt good. It felt good to know that he still had feelings for me.

That tonight, given the choice, he had chosen
me
over her.

And so, after fighting his kiss for a few more seconds, I finally gave in and kissed him back.

The elevator opened up on my floor, jolting me from the trance Jeff had put me in with his passionate kiss. I broke from his grasp and took off down the hallway. “We can’t do this. Not now, not here. You have Brooke here, and I have Luc.”

“You don’t really want to be with
Luc
,” he said in a demeaning tone as he tailed me. “I can tell by the way you look at him. You’re not in love with him.”

“And what about Brooke?” I asked as I opened the door to my room. “You’re not in love with her either I suppose?”

“No, I’m not!” Jeff practically yelled as he followed me into the room. “She’s not you. I made a huge, huge mistake, Charlotte . . .” Jeff paused as he looked straight into my eyes. “But after you sent me those emails, I really thought you were gone for good. So I tried to make things work with her. But I don’t love her. I would never marry her. I want you. I want to marry
you
.” He leaned in and kissed me again as the door slammed shut behind him.