Page 219 of A Matter of Time

“I can only do what I think is right, and I think, at this moment, this is best for the both of us. He loves me because of who I am, and if I can’t be that guy…what’s the point anyway?”

“You’re wrong. He loves you because of your heart and for no other reason.”

I felt my body heave. How could he leave me?

His lips were suddenly on my forehead. “I love you, baby.”

But he didn’t. Not really. How could he leave me if he loved me?

“I’ll be back for you.”

I tried to lift up, but already I was sinking instead, the darkness pulling at me.

“I’ll see ya soon.”

But even before I was swallowed by sleep, I knew it was a lie. There was no way of knowing when or where I would ever lay eyes on Sam Kage again.

PART II

ONE

2003

The room was covered in roses. Pale, dusty pink colored petals were strewn over everything, the lighting, the colors, all of it giving you that romantic, soft-filtered feeling of femininity. It was stunning. The string quartet, the champagne, the servers in crisp white, it was all so elegant…and completely lost on the rest of the men at the table. They looked wrung out, and I understood why. Three days of wedding plus events was an uphill slog, but finally, we were at the end, at the finish line. I was ready for it to be over.

First night had been fine—drinks, just a low-key get-together, everyone visiting, nice dinner, and then the women had left for the bachelorette party. As they all waved goodbye I’d thought yes, that’s the way to do it, two days before. That made logical sense, as no matter how crazy it got, they would all have time to fully recover before the big day. Fantastic.

Second day—rehearsal dinner, amazing. And yes, I ran a thousand errands, but that was my place as the brother of the groom. I was glad I had taken the time off from work for my brother’s wedding, since if I’d had to keep up my usual schedule of appointments, I would have turned instantly to ash.

Myself and Dane’s friends, his best man, the other groomsmen and ushers, were supposed to be excited about being put through the repetitive practice of walking in and out of the church. As smiling conveyed that best, I did my Mr. Roarke impression and said, over and over, “Smiles, everyone, smiles!” They all laughed instead of growling, so I considered it a win.

That night, at the rehearsal dinner, Dane’s friends were supposed to be impressed with the lovely room and intimate setting, when all they could think about was the bachelor party. I wasn’t in charge of that, only the rehearsal dinner, for which I’d hired a bus to get people from out of town to the destination, and then drop them back at the Drake downtown, where the wedding would be the following day. Getting everyone to and from the church and then to the dinner at the restaurant I’d rented out for the meal was quite the task. Herding cats would have been easier. In the end, it all came off beautifully without incident, and I even corralled stragglers. Dane appreciated me, and told me so. The rehearsal dinner was flawless, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the night, the bachelor party, that was all on Jude.

When I was hounded to accompany them out carousing, I ducked out instead, pleading exhaustion, and went home to bed. It was the coward’s way, but I could never have kept up. They were all much better drinkers than me, which was saying a lot, as I could normally hold my own.

I didn’t know why Jude had planned the bachelor party the same night as the rehearsal dinner, but perhaps that was how it was done. I had no idea. The bachelorette party made sense as it was, again, two nights before the wedding. But having people staggering home as the sun came up made zero sense to me.

The following morning, when I reached the suite at the appointed hour, with my tuxedo draped over my arm, I was really not surprised to find them all still in their clothes from the previous night. They looked like they’d passed out where they had fallen, several on the floor, one on each couch, one in the wingback chair, and Jude, Dane’s best man, alone in the other room, in one of the two queen beds, drooling. It was a sight to behold. When the door opened and it was Aja Greene—Dane’s fiancée, and not the man himself—come to roust the boys, I felt really sorry for them. It was her wedding day, and they looked like roadkill. This was not the way to get on her good side.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked into the silence.

The moaning and whimpering made me smile as I started pouring coffee and water. I had also brought a large bottle of Tylenol with me.

She began whipping back the drapes, flooding the room with light. Much protesting began instantly.

“Hey,” Rick Jenner said softly as he gestured me over to him. “What time is it?”

“It’s eleven.” I smiled down at him. “The wedding’s not for another seven hours.”

“Then why is she screaming?”

“She’s not, actually.”

“It sounds like it to me.”

“Yeah, but you can probably hear paint peeling.”

He just groaned.