AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her eyebrows twitch a bit, annoyed, but she keeps going. “—And when you cheated on me, I filled the void of you with other men.”
“Yeah, I know.” I shrug.
“Oh.” She purses her lips. “I just thought we were confessing things.”
I nod. “We were. Yours are just embarrassingly transparent.”
She frowns at me more. “Rude.”
I nod my chin at her. “Try to just love me from now on.” Say it lighter than it feels in my chest. One of those half-truths you joke about because you don’t know how else to talk about it.
Her face falls. “Beej—”
I tilt my head, give her a look.
“Baxter James Ballentine, you listen to me—” She reaches for me and I slip my arms around her waist. “I have, over time, tangled my heart up with other people’s—”
I gnaw on my bottom lip. Nod.
“But I have, since I met you, deliberately knotted ours together.”
I sniff a laugh.
“I’ve never loved anyone how I love you,” she says. No smile, no frills. “And I never will. And I’ve known that all along.”
Push my hand through her hair again, smile at her — wish we could do the thing we can’t do right now.
She pulls back, looks down at me.
“Is that what you’re going to wear?” She stares at me, frowning a bit. “To tell everyone in the world we love that we’re getting married? The Life straight leg jeans from the Bianca Saunders x ISKO collar, the Moisson floral-print linen shirt from Jacquemus, and I haven’t looked at your feet but I swear to god Beej if you’re wearing black vans—” She shakes her head at me, eyes not moving from mine.
“I am.” I suppress a smile.
“So help me god, Ballentine, if you try to wear them on our wedding day, I’ll—”
“—Parks. I look good.” I look over her and at myself in the mirror.
“Yes, BJ, but you could look good in anything. Or nothing. I love you in either.”
Keep frowning at her. “I think we match.”
“That’s offensive because I’m in a persimmon orange strapless silk gown from Oscar de la Renta. I’m so much fancier than you.”
“Always, Parks—” Give her the magic smile just to appease her.
Doesn’t work. Shakes her head.
I gesture towards her. “Shouldn’t you be in white?”
“I’m trying to throw them off our scent.” She pouts. “Do you not like it?”
“No, I love it,” I tell her as I drink her in.
“Good.” She clears her throat before pointing to my feet.
“You cannot wear black Vans to Heston’s.”
Jut my chin. “Beige ones?”
