The Reason I Stay (42 page)

I chuckle, and she winks.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, and she taps her finger in her thigh.

And we hold each other’s gaze.

The intensity of our connection is so strong that everything else fades away. I don’t hear the fake “I do” or fake-prayer. I don’t pay attention to their introduction as husband and wife, or even to their kiss. I just stare at Lexie in awe and longing, and hope that she sees in my eyes that I’ve changed, and that I love her above all else.

Without taking her eyes from me she starts walking, and though I don’t know why she’s moving or where she’s going, I follow. Her smile grows the closer we get from each other and I forget how to even breathe.

Once Lexie is in arm’s reach, I raise a hand, and the tips of my fingers touch her soft cheek. Her face leans a bit toward my touch, and her lids fall slightly over her eyes. Butterflies and fireworks are set loose inside my stomach, but then she shakes her head. It’s just a tiny movement, almost imperceptible—
almost—
but I see it, and it’s enough to make my arm fall as an avalanche of painful memories and emotions fill my body. I blink, and look away.

I suddenly hear Georgia’s voice as the church snaps back into focus. “That’s better. Now you two turn forward and smile at the church.” I do as instructed. “Lexie, place your hand on the crook of Matt’s arm.” Lexie does what she’s told. “And slowly walk out.” We start moving.

We walk the length of the church in absolute silence. Regardless of our physical proximity, it’s as if there’s a wall separating us, and for the first time ever I feel completely out of place in her presence.

Lexie doesn’t let go of my arm once we pass through the doors leading to the foyer, and just keeps walking until we reach the doors that will take us outside. We stop at the threshold. “What happened in there?”

It’s unclear if she’s referring to the touch specifically, or to everything that happened since I got here. I assume the latter, since that mostly confuses me. My eyes stay focused on the wooden frame behind her back and I run a hand through my hair. “Something that shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?” Her voice is close to breaking, and again I’m baffled.

Unsettled, I lock my jaw, steel my back, and lift my eyes to her beautiful face. We stare at each other for a second, and as we do her face turns into something from one of my nightmares—downcast brows, a frown in her lips, and tears rimming her eyes.

She inhales deeply, and shakes her head. “I know I’m a week too late, but I’m trying here, Mathew. What are
you
doing?”

Bewildered, I stare at her raised brows that are paired with expectant eyes. I try to think of something to say, but before I can even make sense of my jumbled thoughts she shakes her head and runs out of the church. For a couple of seconds I stand alone at the entryway, looking and feeling like an ass, and then, when it finally dawns on me the size of my stupidity, I run after her.

By the time I reach the curb it’s too late. She’s in her car and driving away, so I just stand there with my head bowed, and my heart pounding until an elbow bumps against my arm.

“You’re an idiot.”

I sigh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Eric drapes an arm over my shoulders. “If you stop moping like a pathetic schoolgirl, put on your tie, ditch the pussy attitude, and go to the dinner as the man she fell in love with, this is totally fixable.”

“I’m not being a pussy. Besides, the man she fell for was an asshole. I don’t want him back.”

He slaps the back of my head. “First of all, this is a very pussy thing to say. You certainly had asshole parts, but mostly you were a pretty cool dude who went after what he wanted, and made shit happen. Number two: you’re so afraid she’ll turn you down again that you’re turning her down yourself. That, my friend, is the definition of a pussy.”

“No it’s not. Pussy is a cat, or female genitals.” He slaps me in the back of the head again. I lift a brow. “Stop doing that.” He does it again. I shake my torso, dislodging his hand from around me. “And she did turn me down. I touched her face, and she shook her head.”

“Because Georgia said that the only P.D.A. allowed was between me and Tanie, dumbass. Tanie is in there yelling at her for it.”

My eyes open wide.
Shit. Shitshitshit . . . SHIT!

Finally my jumbled thoughts come together, and I realize that, one, Eric is right. Since last week I’ve been so afraid to push her too far, make things awkward and lose her altogether that I’m repeating the cowardly—or pussy-like—attitude that cost me Lexie in the first place; two, I’m so stuck in my own head I only saw what my
pussy-ness
allowed me to; and, the most important, three, what the
fuck
is wrong with me?

I love her. I want her back. I’ve spent months working on myself to be better and worthy of her. It was months of waiting and hoping for a chance, and when I finally got it I ignored it?
What am I doing?

When I arrive a Sally’s Inn for the rehearsal dinner, my mind is set. Today is the day when this stupid shit ends.

From the doorway I scan the room, which already has a hearty bunch of people talking and drinking, and find Lexie standing at the far end. She’s drinking a glass of champagne and talking to a few people, but her eyes are wondering. It takes less than a minute for her to look where I’m at, and when she does and our eyes meet, she fidgets, and the cute little smile on her lips hardens a bit. Not a great sign, I’ll admit, yet I’ve endured worse expressions from her, and therefore I won’t let it sway my resolve.

Set on my goal, I walk. I pass a series of familiar and strange faces, but I don’t stop to greet them. The closer I get, the rise and fall of her chest becomes faster, and when I finally reach the circle she’s at, she crosses her arms over her chest, but keeps her gaze fixed on mine.

I spread my lips into a nice smile. “Hello,” I say to her and the group.

She looks at her companions and smiles, the upward curve of her lips stiff and forced. “Y’all, this is the best man, Mathew.”

Reluctantly, she looks at me again as she continues the introductions. The only thing my brain actually registers is that the family is related to Tanie from Georgia’s side, which is unfortunate, since nowadays I take great pride in remembering people’s names.

In an effort not to be too rude, I start some small talk by asking where they’re from. Things go well until the eldest daughter, a curvy girl with a lot of cleavage showing, starts to flip her hair over her shoulder, and stare at me from under her lashes. From my peripheral vision I see Lexie’s brow raising at the girl, which tells me that it’s time to go
and
that my plan is likely to be successful.

“It’s been great meeting you and I hope we get to talk more, but I have some important things to discuss with the maid of honor. So if you’ll excuse us.”

Everyone smiles and nods—except Flirty Girl, who pouts—as I place a hand on Lexie’s lower back and guide her away. We make it five steps in the direction of the door before Lexie stops walking, and fixes an angry gaze at me.

“What do you need?”

The scent of lilies fills my lungs as I take a deep breath. “As a general rule, I need you, Lexie. But right now, I need you to
please
go outside with me so we can talk.”

She shakes her head. “You had your chance earlier. Besides, we’re the maid of honor and best man—we have to mingle. We can’t leave.”

I groan, and bite my tongue to keep myself from swearing. “Look, I love it when you’re difficult, I really do. It’s sexy as fuck, but so help me God, woman. I’ve had enough of this ridiculous crap. I’m done asking. It’s your choice—either we do this the easy way, in which you’ll use your sexy legs to walk outside so we can talk, or we’ll do this the embarrassing way, in which I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you the fuck out. In consideration of our friends I don’t want to make a scene, but I’m goddamned sure they’ll understand if I do. So what will it be?”

She stares at me with an arched brow for a few seconds longer, and then, without a word, turns around and starts walking towards the door. Relieved, I follow her.

We’re on the boardwalk, surrounded by the clammy beachy air, when Lexie finally turns to look at me with balled-up fists and a scowl. “You’re such a confusing asshole.”

“Really?” I ask, shocked. “I’m the confusing one?” She doesn’t reply, and just stares at me with arms at her waist, and a tapping foot. I pull at my hair. “Pray tell, love, how do I confuse you?”

“I don’t know what you want. You screw up, go away, come back, and don’t even look me up until four months later. Then you go to The Jukebox wanting to talk, you put that goddamned song on, and when I put on this dress and hug you, it’s like you don’t care. Like you don’t even realize what I’m trying to do. And finally, you say you need me, but in the most asshole way possible. So yes, this is all very confusing.”

“Well, what did you expect?” I blurt out, beyond frustrated. “This is us, Lexie. I’m an asshole, and you’re stubborn as a goddamned door. We’re made of misunderstandings, and badly placed words, and stupid arguments. We’re a pit of bad decisions and confusion, but there’s always been one thing that’s crystal clear . . .”

She looks at me with wide eyes and an unmoving chest, and I hold her gaze. My fists are clenched too tight. My knuckles are cold, and when I pry them open my hands shake. Yet, I try to keep them steady as my left fingers unbutton my right cuff, and roll my sleeve up to my elbow. We both exhale at the same time as I stretch my arm in front of her.

Her hand cradles my forearm as green eyes take in the rose inked to my skin. A tentative, dark blue fingernail traces the lines of the replica of the tattoo on her shoulder, setting my body and soul on fire.

“You’re the love of my life, the only woman who I’ve ever and will ever love,” I continue as her eyes stay focused on the tat. “I know I’ve screwed us up. I know I let my fears and insecurities cloud my judgment—not only while we were together, but today as well. But none of that was because I didn’t love
you
.

“I started to fall in love with you the moment you told me off that very first day. That’s why I couldn’t leave this town, why I didn’t want to. But I didn’t know how to love, and accept
myself
enough to let you in and love you the way you deserved. All I could see was that I was a black hole in people’s lives, something that attracts things only to destroy them, and you deserved better. So I showed you the little bits of me that I could accept in hopes of keeping you longer.

“I had to lose you, be completely broken and come face to face with Lea to finally see that hiding from who I was and what I did was not only selfish and cowardly, but was also useless. From there I spent the past four months confronting, finding meaning, and making peace with my past.”

Lexie finally lifts her gaze to my face. She nods, and furrows her brows, but her finger continues to move on the inside of my forearm.

“I went to Dennis’s house. We talked. I told him how much his absence after Mom’s death hurt me; he explained his side of things, and we’re finally in a good place. I said goodbye to my old friends at my own birthday party, which was a good ending to that story.” I chuckle at the memory of everyone I used to know wishing me a happy birthday, and me replying with, “It was good knowing you.”

I shake the memory away, and continue, “Lea and I still talk a lot. It’s good to see her happy, despite it all. She’s dying to meet you, by the way.” Lexie smiles. “And then I came back here, and I waited, and I worked on myself until I felt ready for my last unfinished business.”

“Me?”

I laugh. “Yes.”

“Is that why you went to the diner?”

Staring her in the eyes, I nod. “Yes. I needed to tell you that meeting you was the best, most life-altering event that has ever happened to me. You’re a sun, Lexie. You bring light, and warmth, and life to everything around you. And though I’ll always regret that I broke your heart, I’ll always be grateful that you broke mine. It made me a better, kinder, self-aware person who deserves someone like you. So even if you don’t ever give me another chance—which I really hope you do—I’ll forever be grateful to life just because I got to know and love you.”

We stare at each other in silence for so long that I think minutes pass. Then, without warning or reason or explanation, Lexie slides the fingers she has over my tattoo down my arm until they are aligned with my own. Her perfect lips curl up as her fingers lace with mine. She takes a step toward me until her chest is only inches away.