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“I’m kind. And I’m happy,” I deadpan, making eye contact with her in the mirror I’m standing in front of.
“You just don’t smile.” She scoffs.
“I’m too busy.” Why is everyone so obsessedwithseeing me smile?
She barks out a laugh. The tailor measuring my pants snorts and asks me to adjust my stance.
The summer is fading quickly and Nora and Mateo’s wedding is just several weeks away. Which is why I find myself being fitted for the suit I’ll wear.
Since our father is gone, she asked me to walk her down the aisle. As much as I’ve been anti-wedding, she nearly broke me when she asked if I’d do it.
I didn’t have to think about it, pulling her into my arms and giving her the tightest hug and telling her it would be my honor. Through tears, she asked if that meant I would be easier to talk to about wedding plans.
I told her not a chance.
“Do you think you could smile at my wedding?” she smarts off.
“Of course. It will be the day you’re no longer my problem. I’ll grin when I pat that poor sucker you’re marrying on the back and wish him luck.”
She glares.
I wink at her.
“Rude. I’m going to go look at the ties. Cassie gave me suggestions on which colors to look at that will match the color palette. Your vibe is bringing me down.” She shakes her head good-naturedly and stalks off.
I track her in the mirror as she walks away, and I remember the last time I was here.
Six years ago.
But it was for my own wedding that never happened. Well, it happened in a way. The bride just never walked down the aisle.
While I don’t think about that day often, I can remember it plain as day.
I was standing in the side hall of the church Nevaeh had found for us to marry in. I was nervous but ready to marry the woman I loved. She had been with me the night I got the call that my parents had been taken from us. I was a wreck with her but had to put on a different face when I got home to Nora.
From that point, Nevaeh was my rock. She let me grieve in ways I couldn’t in front of my sister. She was my best friend.
Which is why when Charlie stepped up next to me, a hand on my shoulder, and told me she was gone, left a note explaining why she couldn’t go through with the wedding, I was livid.
I swore I would not do this dog and pony show again. I was done. Screw love.
And fuck putting your faith in someone else’s love.
My mind flashes to Cassie. I envision her in some white dress, hair down, flowers in her hands, a massive smile on her face as she walks toward someone. But the vision stops at that. I can’t see who she’s walking toward.
Some man who will marry her and promise to love her forever. Someone who isn’t me. A pain in my chest has me rubbing the area subconsciously as the tailor steps away, jotting down notes on his sheet of paper.
Over the last six years, while my new view on love has lessened a bit, I can still say with one hundred percent confidence that I will never marry. I’m not that much of a pessimist to believe I will never love again.
Cassie is worth loving. I’m not an asshole.
But I’m not the one for Cassie.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been selfish with her, though. I’ve also treated her differently than I have past women I’ve slept with. We see each other a few times a week. I take her to dinner, but mostly we only have time for late-night romps in bed.
I’m not complaining. Cassie is fucking amazing, and I can’t get enough of that woman’s body. The taste of her lingers on my tongue. All I crave is her.
But like I said, I’m being selfish with her. We haven’t defined our relationship. I know her well enough to know that it’s important to her.
