Volition (41 page)

Al stops the car, and we get out. The paparazzi start buzzing over to Hayden, but instead of sliding over to his side of the car, I get out my door. Al takes my hand almost immediately, and in the bright flash bulbs, I notice a long scar that I’ve never noticed before. It runs from just underneath his ear and disappears below the collar of his shirt.

“Tate?”

Hayden is reaching for me now, so I tear my eyes away from Al as I take Hayden’s hand. He pulls me to him, and we rush through the tunnel of people down the red carpet. Once we’re on the steps, we’re safe because of the partition that’s been put up.

I want to go straight upstairs to see the Pissarro, but we can’t. I have to make sure Chad sees me here.

We check our coats and walk up to the second floor where people have gathered. A waiter offers us flutes of champagne, and we happily accept.

“Thank you for coming with me,” I say because I couldn’t do this alone.

“Now, you know what you’ve saved me from,” he says with a smile.

I feel bad that I’ve hated this life. He’s been attending events all by himself for his entire life since he didn’t bring dates before me, so it must be nice to have someone by your side after that.

I’m happy.

I have Hayden by my side, and that’s all I need.

“Hayden!”

I’m so sick of hearing that voice. I’m not panicked this time. I’m cool and content about it because I expected her to be here.

Hayden turns first.

My dress is floor-length, and it’s heavy, so I have to move carefully. When Hayden’s grip tightens on mine, I know something is wrong.

I want to see what it is, but I also don’t.

He wouldn’t react to Jasmine being here, but there’s one person who would cause him alarm.

My heart starts beating faster, and I’m sure Hayden can feel my pulse through my fingers. I lean on him for support as I pull my dress around, and I want to drop dead on the spot.

Jasmine has stopped in front of us. She’s wearing a red satin dress that would be stunning if it wasn’t on her, but that’s not what I’m looking at.

I’m staring at the man next to her, and my jaw physically drops.

My heart breaks.

My soul breaks.

I haven’t seen him in over a year, but he’s changed more in that time than the entire lifetime I’ve known him.

I just want to cry because he’s all of my vapid teenage dreams come to life.

He’s beautiful.

He’s beyond beautiful.

That raggedy, unkempt puppy of a kid who never quite grew up isn’t there anymore.

If it weren’t for the grappling hooks pulling at my soul right now, I may not have recognized him. He’s that different, and it’s difficult to fathom. His dark hair is styled almost like Hayden’s, and his suit fits him like it was made for him rather than the way it looked at cotillion when he just looked like a boy wearing a man’s jacket. He’s taller. He’s everything that my vain heart always wanted but didn’t think I could have because I thought I’d never be physically attracted to him.

I can’t breathe.

I’m done for.

If he’s having the same difficulty I am, he’s not showing it. He either doesn’t feel it at all anymore, or his poker face is better than mine.

Jasmine is watching me with intense satisfaction, and I consider shoving her over the balcony for a moment, the way I shoved them in that grave.

Hayden, being the saint that he is, kisses Jasmine’s gloved hand, and reaches out to shake Jesse’s. I don’t know where his impeccable strength comes from, but I need some of it.

I squeeze his hand, and I’m afraid I’m going to break it. Jasmine doesn’t come near me, and for good reason, but Jesse reaches out for my hand the way Hayden reached for Jasmine’s. It’s so natural that you’d think he grew up in society the way we did.

His lips touch the black glove on my hand, and I want to die.

I’ve chosen Hayden.

I want Hayden.

Jesse needs to vacate this floor, this building, this city because the choice has been made. I don’t know if I can live with him near me, not when he’s successful and striking and embedded in my very existence. I want to start crying like Daisy cried over Gatsby’s shirts, when really she wasn’t crying over shirts at all.

None of us have really said a word, but I have no idea how much time has passed.

Time doesn’t make sense anymore.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

Hayden clears his throat like he’s about to say something, but I’m slapped hard on the back.

“Tate McKenna! I thought I saw a ghost!”

Chad interrupts this matrix of a moment, and he has no idea what he’s walked into. He’s clearly had more than a few champagne flutes if he’s this hands-on with me and if he had the gumption to make fun of my shifty behavior, but I thank him for inviting me all the same. After all, he is the man who signs my paychecks and prints the words that come from my mind.

Jasmine knows Chad, of course, because of her father, but she introduces Jesse, and I introduce Hayden.

Chad is starstruck to see my fiancé, and I try to use their conversation as a moment to compose myself. I take a few deep breaths to try to quell the war in my mind, but it’s not working because Jesse’s staring at me with the lazy look he used to have all those years ago.

It’s a look that’s meant just for me, and I shut my eyes to shut him out.

When I open them, I want him to be gone, but that’s too much to ask. Jasmine sees our exchange and takes his hand.

Chad and Hayden have come to a lull, so Jasmine uses it to excuse herself and Jesse. Chad says he should leave, too, and that’s good because I just need Hayden. I need him to pull all of the Jesse out of my mind because I’m getting married, and I can’t deal with the sight or the feel of him.

Not when I always thought I’d be marrying him.

I won’t let him ruin this for me.

Jesse shakes Hayden’s hand again and nods at me while Jasmine shoots daggers at me with her eyes. They leave, and both Hayden and I watch as they descend down the staircase. Jesse looks back at me not once, but twice, and Jasmine is clearly shaken.

“Well,” Hayden says, “I think I’m done here.”

I couldn’t agree more.

He calls Al to pick us up, and we’re dashing down the steps, hand in hand, as fast as we can. I’m tripping over my dress, so Hayden picks the train up with his other hand and bunches it up, so I can run faster.

Al spots us and gets out of the car to hold the door open for me. Hayden gets in on the other side, and I see the scar on Al’s neck again.

“Al,” I ask because I’ve always wondered, “where is your family?”

He gives me a sad smile and gestures into the car.

“It’s right here, Tate.”

My heart wants to break for him as Hayden pulls on my hand to get me into the car with him. I think he wants to be as close as he can after Jesse’s invasion.

I’m in, the door shuts, and I want to cry.

Hayden’s not the only person who bears physical scars from the night John died. They say scars don’t hurt, but that’s a lie. I’m not sure what hurts worse—the ones you can see or the ones so far beneath that they’ll never really heal.

Now

CATHERINE IS DRAGGING me back to Austin’s atelier to see my dress. I’m getting married tomorrow, and this is the only fitting we’ll have. I’ve been assured that Austin has cleared his entire schedule in the event that it doesn’t fit, so he can work day and night to have it ready for tomorrow, but he’s convinced I will love it.

“The American Duchess!”

I’m barely in the door before he’s kissing both of my cheeks.

“You look fabulous! This hair,” he says, twirling it around these fingers. “If only I could have this hair. So fierce.”

I thank him, and he hugs Catherine, but really, I’m just nervous to see my dress. I wasn’t partial to any of the samples, and if I don’t like what he’s designed for me, I don’t think I get a second chance.

“Off,” Austin says as he pulls at my shirt and drags me to the fitting room.

My clothes are coming off because Austin’s attendants have no shame, and I’m standing there in my bra and underwear while Austin pulls my dress from a garment bag.

When he pulls it out, I see a flash of black underneath the white.

“It looks better on,” he says.

I wonder if he’s tried it himself.

When he unzips the back, I see that he’s lined the entire inside of the dress with black fabric. The inside is black, but the outside is white. It’s cleverly done, so you can’t see the black inside once it’s on me, and I’m in love. This dress is me because I’m dark on the inside, yet I have to pretend to be normal on the outside. This wedding is the definition of a sham because I have to do the Rockefeller family justice even though I’m crazy inside.

Austin zips it up, and it fits me perfectly. It’s strapless and tight until just above my knees where it flares out.

“Wait for it,” Austin says as he grabs a bouquet off the wall and puts it in my hands. Then, he pulls a hairpin out from under his sleeve and gathers my waist-length locks in his hands until it’s in a chignon at the back of my head. He pulls pieces from the top layers out, so they’re framing my face.

“Veil or no veil?”

“No veil,” I say. “I don’t want to be wrapped up like a present.”

“With that hair, I agree. No veil.”

I look to Catherine, who is sitting on a futon with her hands over her face. She’s crying.

“Oh, don’t,” I say because my best friend never cries.

“You’re just so beautiful,” she says.

She starts sobbing.

I want to cry with her, but I can’t. If I start, I won’t stop.

She hugs me tightly, and I stare at us in the mirror. I always thought she’d be getting married before me or that she’d be the only one of us getting married at all.

Austin puts his arms around both of us and hands Catherine an embroidered handkerchief.

Catherine sighs and wipes her face. “Okay,” she says. “Let’s go get you married.”

Next, I’m meeting Hayden to get our marriage license.

Catherine puts me in a cab, still teary-eyed, and I’m one step closer to putting the second ring around my finger. I asked for a simple band because I want my onyx engagement ring to be the focal point, and my ruined finger can’t take much more weight.

The town hall isn’t far, so I pay my fare and hop out of the cab in time to see Al pulling up to the curb a few spots away.

Hayden buttons his suit as he exits the car and nods to Al, and then he’s walking to me.

He’s beaming because he’s so excited, and I want to be on that same plane, but I’m so nervous that I feel like my stomach is going to come out of my mouth.

He kisses me and takes my hand.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” I tell him because if I’m not now, I’ll never be.

We’ve already made an appointment, so we’re rushed into a room with a judge without having to wait in line.

“Rockefeller and McKenna?”

The judge looks at us to make sure he has the right couple even though I’m sure he knows Hayden’s face because there’s hardly anyone who doesn’t.

We confirm our identities, and he hands the license over the desk.

“Now, have you brought the rings?”

I gape at Hayden because we’re not getting married now. We’re getting married tomorrow.

He turns to me, and I can tell by his face that I’m wrong.

He takes both of my hands in his.

“Tate, if I die before tomorrow, I want to be married to you.”

“Hayden, you’re not your brother. You’re a Rockefeller, not a Kennedy.”

“You don’t know that,” he says darkly.

I know he wants to do this now.

“Don’t you want to be married to me if I die?”

“Yes.”

“So, let’s do it now. It’s less than twenty-four hours until tomorrow anyway. I don’t want to spend another second not being married to you.”

He kisses me and quotes his favorite song, including one line about rain. He knows how I feel about it because he’s taught me to love the rain instead of being crippled by it. I can’t help but smile.

It’s hard to say no to Hayden Rockefeller when he’s pleading, so I turn to face the judge.