The Perfect Plans Series [Box Set] (86 page)

Any other time, that would be lovely. Right now, I just want to find Alex and beg for a reunion of my own.
How am I going to get through this?
I slide my cell phone partially from my clutch, desperate to see a reply from him. Any reply. I would take ‘fuck you’ even, since that would at least give me the chance to reply with ‘Oh, God, yes…please’.” I just need to know that he saw my message. That he knows I love him. At least from there, I can begin to prove just how much.

But there’s no reply. And I can’t help but look up, attempting to take in the crowded room, scanning every face in hopes of finding his. I don’t. I choke back a sudden need to cry, trying to brace myself for the task at hand. But I’m failing. My heart rate picks up speed as I realize he may not come at all.

What must he be thinking since I’ve ignored his calls and messages since late last evening? Thank God he doesn’t know what
I
was thinking
-
what I almost let myself believe
.
I pull my fingers to my lips, swallowing back a mixture of regret and fear as a sob I’ve been trying to quell builds in my throat. He would have no way of knowing what I walked in on.
And, therefore, no idea why I’ve avoided him.
Oh God, I feel sick that he thinks I was ignoring him.
The threatened sob chokes me as the MC calls my name.

“NEW BEGINNINGS ARE often disguised as painful endings,” I pause to look up with a half-hearted smile, my hands trembling, gripped tightly to the edges of the podium. “I know what you’re thinking…what an inappropriately
odd
start to a wedding speech. Well, an amazing woman once shared this quote of advice with me, and at the time, I too, thought
she
was rather odd - just one of her many adorable quirks,” I glance at Stacey, the love I see in her eyes giving me the strength to hold back my looming tears, though my voice is quivering from emotion. “It took a long time for me to find the beautifully hidden message in its meaning, or at least, to find my
own
interpretation of that message, so in light of saving you time -
and
the rest of the evening discussing the crazy ramblings of the Maid of Honor - I’ll get to the point and share it with you.”

“The dictionary coins beginnings as an act - the point at which something begins. And every love story is full of so many beginnings, all of which we capture and record into pretty memory capsules.” Pausing, I brace myself against the barrage of memories assailing me, picture perfect memories of Alex and I that I don’t want to let go. “The first time you meet. The first glance. First date. That first
kiss
,” I pretend to swoon, and the guests giggle, easing my inner turmoil slightly. But as I glance down at my speech, I’m thrown back into the sights of the emotional hurricane…“The first
I love you
.” I have to pause as it blasts through me along with a vision of Alex’s perfect face. “These, and so many more, are all the beautiful beginnings of love.”

“But love isn’t
always
pretty. It’s full of acts that don’t make it into the pretty memory capsules, for when they end, they’re discarded in their painful ugliness. The first fight,” I cock my head, pursing my lips playfully, earning another round of quiet laughter, despite feeling as though they can see right through me. “The first ‘I’m sorry’. And even the first heartbreak. We’ve all had at least a few of those,” I brave another small smile. “We’ve actually had many of all of the above, and in most cases with the same person. Welcome to love and marriage,” I tease a wink at Stacey and Thomas, the quick glance affording me another little shot of strength from the loving gaze of my best friend.

Looking back to the seated guests I fight the urge to look for him, the thought of finding his blue eyes staring back at me sending a stutter of hope through my heart. It takes a moment to catch my breath and my focus back in place on the paper before me.

“Yes love, ugly
or
pretty, is full of repeated beginnings and endings. And it comes with this amazing gift at the end of every single day - the gift of knowing that when you wake up in the morning, you have the chance to start them all over again.” Looking down for a moment, I close my eyes in hopes of squeezing back the tears that I can no longer fight. “That’s the message that spoke to me from that
odd
quote. That true love is trusting in the magic of starting over - new beginnings from what may sometimes feel like painful endings. Because with the start of every new act comes an end, and with that, another beautiful new beginning.”

Picking up my glass, my hand trembling a little, I feign a smile at Stacey before turning back to the crowd. “Please raise your glasses with me in celebration of Thomas and Stacey, and their love. May they always trust in the magic of starting over, and wake up every day together to experience a lifetime of beautiful new beginnings.”

Taking a sip of my Champagne, I turn to lay it down as Stacey catches me in a bone-crushing hug amid the claps and cheers of the crowd. Instantly an escaped tear slips down my face. “I love you, Stacey, but I have to go,” I whisper, pulling from her hold.

“Aby…?” she questions, a gentle grab of my arm halting my process.

“I just need some air,” I plead, wiping the tear from my cheek as I welcome her understanding gaze.

“Okay…” is all I allow her to get in before I turn and step down from the podium, lifting my dress in preparation to run.

My aim is on the quickest retreat - the side doors - however, I don’t make it past the first row of tables; an isle full of smiling guests all waiting to say something nice as I pass. Their kind comments about my ‘beautiful words’, and my ‘witty’ and ‘well written’ speech are all a blur with each forced smile and empty ‘thank you’ I offer, my focus dominated by my desperate need to escape.

Flashing a final appreciative smile to the ‘you make a lovely Maid of Honor’ from the last table, I turn my attention back to my destination, the wide gap of bare floor the only thing separating me from the exit doors I crave. Doors now blocked by the one thing I crave more…Alex Tate.

Alex
, I tremble, his name echoing through my mind, his presence stopping me dead in my tracks. He takes my breath away as I devour him, dressed to perfection in a black tux, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his pants. For a moment I wonder if he’s a figment of my imagination, so desperate to find him that I’ve actually conjured him from fantasy. He certainly looks as though he just stepped out of one. But when I meet his gaze, his penetrating stare, the reality of him hits me harder than a bolt of lightning. It’s an overwhelming blast that shatters me into a million thankful pieces.

He’s really here
, I gasp for air, swallowing hard against my suddenly dry throat. Every part of me screams run. Run to him. Yet I don’t. I walk slowly. As though time is in slow motion, and if I rush, if I move too quickly, it will speed up again and whisk him away.

I reach him in an envelope of silence, lost only to his eyes. Eyes that never left mine, wrapping me in a cocoon of calm, pulling me to stand before him to say the only thing I need him to hear, “I love you.”

He says nothing as he stares into my soul, and that’s okay, because I feel safe having him there. And in his silence, I’m grateful for this chance to say more. “I’m so sorry,” I search his eyes, needing to see my hope reflected there.

His returned gaze glistens in its penetration, almost as though he’s capturing a moment for himself, before he reaches up to wipe a slow falling tear from my cheek.

A breathless whisper escapes my lips at the touch, our stare broken as he looks down momentarily, almost bashfully, before returning his gaze to mine. His eyes ensnare me, holding me hostage as I painstakingly await his reply, frightened to death that he’ll say nothing in return.

“Hi,” he finally speaks, his eyes flashing a brilliant blue, “I’m Alex Tate,” he takes my hand, lifting it to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I lose myself in his perfect smile, adrift in a haze as I try to understand.

“That was a beautiful speech. I particularly liked the part about starting over,” his sweet words explain everything.

Oh, thank God!
“I thought…there’s so much I need to explain,” I manage as my emotional dam breaks.

“Shhh,” he whispers, brushing away more tears. “Not tonight, Miss Ryan. Tonight is about new beginnings.”

I stare at him in wonder, desperate to try to understand what we’ve done to deserve so many chances. And thankful that we’re so willing to take them, despite how we’ve allowed them to be so carelessly thrown away. This
is
our new beginning. We couldn’t fight what we feel for each other if we tried.

“Will you do me the honor of dancing with me?” he holds out his hand.

It’s only then that the world around me comes into focus - the music pulling me back into reality - though as I take his hand, I can’t help but feel the warmth of our loving fantasy.

I realize as we turn that guests have joined Thomas and Stacey on the dance floor.
I missed their first dance
, I grimace with guilt and awe at how long we were lost frozen in time.

Taking our place among the crowd, Alex wraps his arm around my waist, securing his hand in mine, swaying us in time to the rhythm. We’re lost to each other, our gazes locked, our eyes silently conveying thoughts of regret and mistakes, forgiveness and fresh starts…love and never letting go.

He pulls me closer, releasing my hand to secure both of his around my waist, tightening his hold as I snake my arms around his shoulders, his cheek brushing mine in the motion of our desperate embrace.

I run my fingers through his tousled curls, a new tear escaping my fresh well of relief. Leaning against his shoulder, I relish him - the feel of the warm flesh of his nape under my palms, his perfect scent as I inhale deeply, the way he makes me feel when I’m in his arms. I don’t ever want to lose this feeling again. And though I’m so grateful for his plea to leave our regrets unspoken tonight, I can’t ignore the nagging reminder that he was never able to forgive Julia her indiscretion - fictitious or otherwise. Does he really forgive
me
for kissing Andrew?

Whether or not it meant something to me doesn’t matter when it’s his heart that has to swallow the reality of my lips against another man’s. I tense at the thought, and he squeezes me tighter. “Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t think about anything right now…nothing matters except where you are. In my arms, where you belong.”

His perfect words remind me that he can see through me, sense what I’m thinking, and always know what I need to hear. But as much as I want to be able to let it go, I can’t.
My
heart is begging in fear for reassurance that what I did won’t mean losing his.

Pulling back marginally, I look into his eyes, pleading for an answer before finally speaking the question, “But…what about the kiss?”

He halts his lead, releasing me to cup my face in his hands, the look in his gaze taking my breath away. The kiss he takes me is so deep and sensual, I feel it down to my toes. He tastes divine. Perfect. Heavenly. It’s the type of kiss that sets off fireworks, explosions of shooting stars illuminating us in the light of our love. And that’s just what I find when he finally pulls his beautiful lips away, as we stand under the glistening spotlight, surrounded by the crowd, all clapping and cheering.

“You mean
that
kiss?” he whispers. “Because that kiss is the one I’ll remember forever,” he pulls me against him, lifting me, my feet dangling above the floor.

Looking down into his eyes, I thank the lucky stars above for gifting me this wonderful man.

“And,” he adds, placing me back on my feet, “…just so you know, Aby Ryan, I love you, too.”

“WHERE HAVE YOU been all my life,” Alex asks playfully, spinning me around, dipping me to steal a kiss.

“I’m not sure,” I tease in return. “If I had known you were such a good dancer, I would have stolen you for myself a long time ago.”

He wrenches me tight against him, his gaze devouring mine with its heat. “You stole my heart the moment I looked into your eyes.”

It takes a moment to reclaim my stolen breath, lost to the inferno of his burning stare and heart-melting declaration. “I just can’t believe that you’re here,” I add, overwhelmed that he’s come for me a second time. That he loves me that much.