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“He changed ya,” Lizzie said. “You ain’t the same girl I knew.”
“High school was seven years ago. I hope I’m not the same person,” I said.
“He did change you,” Whitney agreed with Lizzie.
“No, losing my mother changed me,” I said.
“Look, ya wanted our opinion, so there it is,” Lizzie said. “Don’t marry the man. He’s an asshole.”
“And a womanizer,” Whitney said.
“You’re still on that tangent?” I asked.
“You haven’t seen him do the things I’ve seen. Katie, that man checks out women while you’re right there. He’ll be the first to cheat on you and the last to feel bad about it. Don’t think you have to marry this man because he threw some money at you and was there when your mother passed. You don’t owe him anything.”
“I do,” I said. “I owe him a lot.”
“You don’t owe no man shit,” Lizzie said. “That’s another way he’s changed ya. Got ya hangin’ in there like a hair on a biscuit ‘cause he’s got you thinkin’ you owe him shit.”
“A hair on a biscuit? Are you for real?” Whitney asked.
“Welcome to Texas, sweet cheeks. Where the tea’s as twangy as the language we speak,” Lizzie said with a grin.
I knew they were right, but my mind was swirling too much to say anything. It was my rehearsal dinner the night before my wedding, and I was just now considering this? I was getting cold feet. That was all this was. There was no way in hell I was making the wrong decision. Michael was a good man. Lizzie and Whitney just didn’t know him like I did. They hadn’t been there all those nights he had held me together when my momma was dying.
And whose eyes didn’t wander in a relationship? My eyes wandered. I noticed all the brothers there tonight. How wonderful they all looked and how much they had changed over the years. But I wasn’t touching them, and I sure wasn’t going home with them.
That was the difference.
Michael wasn’t touching any of these women or going home with them. He was staying committed to me like he had been through my mother’s death.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s get back out there.”
“Told ya,” Lizzie said.
“Told you what?” I asked.
“I bet Whitney here ten bucks you’d still go out there and get yourself married,” Lizzie said.
“Really, Whitney? Gambling’s illegal in the State of Texas,” I said.
“Glad to see that bar exam did you some good,” Whitney said with a smile. “But Lizzie was right. I figured us talking to you would snap some sense into that head of yours.”
“Can we just try to get through this?” I asked.
“You should never have to feel like you’re ‘getting through’ something like this,” Whitney said. “That tells me right there that this is a bad idea.”
“Quit the yappin’. She’s made up her mind,” Lizzie said.
I sighed as we left the bathroom and made our way back to the dinner.
I headed back to my table, trying to ignore the people around me. The ballroom was beautifully decorated, but if I paid attention to it too much, I would start thinking about the brothers again. When Michael proposed and expressed to me that we could move anywhere in the country I wanted to, I was excited to go back home. Dallas, Texas would always hold my heart, especially since I didn’t blend in with the city like I thought I would. My muddy old cowboy boots and my cut-off jeans weren’t something people saw every day in New York City, and I had to quickly trade them for more professional clothing and toned-down colors.
I was glad to get back to my roots.
The brothers had accomplished a lot in my absence. The four of them owned a string of ranch resorts that fused the decadence of first-class with the warm, soothing feel of country life. “Leewardly Ranch Resort” had become a familiar name throughout the state, and it was quickly gaining ground all over the country. So, when I started planning my wedding, I couldn't think of any other place I would rather be.
But as I sat down by Michael, my presence went unacknowledged. He continued talking to someone beside him and paid me no attention. He didn’t look over at me or address me in any way. He didn’t slip his hand onto my knee like he used to or wrap his arm around the back of my chair. It was like I was non-existent to him, even though this was our rehearsal dinner.
