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They gave Gage their blessing when he asked for my hand in marriage. My dad tried to hide the tears in his eyes when I told him that there would be no walk down the aisle. My mom wept when we donated my wedding dress.
Mom: This year I’ll turn 40 for the 15th time, so a trip to New York is the perfect way to celebrate. Eat all your take-out and brush your teeth. Love you.
Laughing, I shake my head.
Kate: Love you too.
Chapter 8
Gage
My fingers roll over the black stone beads on the bracelet that’s been on my left wrist for almost seven years.
I glance down at it.
It’s a part of me now. I can’t picture my arm without it.
A tap on my shoulder draws my gaze back to a guy in a black T-shirt, dark jeans and a shaved head. “You’re loitering. You need to get lost.”
“You don’t own the sidewalk,” I point out. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Your bride?” he questions as he lights a cigarette he pulled out of his back pocket. “You haven’t taken your eyes off the wedding dress shop since you parked your ass here.”
Technically, it’s my feet that are parked in this spot.
I’m leaning against a lamppost outside of a record store.
Who the fuck knew that records were still so popular? He’s had a steady stream of customers since he unlocked the door thirty minutes ago.
“Are your feet cold?” The guy asks with a laugh.
I look down at my shoes. They’re black leather oxfords that paired well with the dark jeans and white dress shirt I’m wearing.
I rolled the sleeves of the shirt up to my elbows because it’s hot as hell out.
I’m trying to make a good impression, although Katie never gave a shit about what was on my back.
Your heart is the most beautiful in the world, Gage.
Her words, not mine.
She said them for the last time five years ago. I doubt they’ll ever leave her lips again.
“You’re not the first guy to hang out here because of a case of cold feet.” He taps the cigarette sending the ash to the sidewalk. “I always tell guys like you the same thing.”
He has no idea what kind of man I am, but I listen because his voice is better than silence right now.
I spent all night in the darkness of my apartment replaying the day I broke Katie’s heart.
His hand brushes my shoulder as he points across the street at Katie’s boutique. “If you need to take a breather here, you don’t belong over there.”
“I’m not getting married,” I say with a quick glance in his direction.
“Wise man.” He drops the cigarette, smashing the toe of his black boot into it.
I’m a wiser man now than I was five years ago.
My gaze wanders to a beautiful blonde in a light blue dress headed toward the boutique. Her hair is loose. The gentle waves are bouncing around her shoulders.
