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“And you’re mad at me for that?”
“No. Not mad,” he says. “But your timing really sucked.”
“I didn’t mean to say it then,” I say. “It just. . .came out.”
“Yeah, and it made things worse.”
My stomach drops. “Worse?”
He turns his whole body to face me. “I didn’t know how to process what had happened, let alone what you were saying.” His voice is calm and kind. “You were important to me—are important to me—and I didn’t want to hurt you. I already totally screwed up one relationship. How was I going to add another one less than an hour later?”
Ouch. Maybe adult conversations are overrated. He continues, and I notice his fists clenching slightly as he’s talking about it. “I just needed to leave. You know how things are here. Everyone was going to be talking about the loser who was left at the altar,” his voice starts to rise, “and I didn’t want to stick around for it.”
He’s still emotional about it. It still hurts.
Well duh, Emmy, wounds like that never really heal.
I want to tell him he’s right. I want to tell him I meant every word I said to him that day. I want to say a lot of things, but I can’t. It’s too hard.
Especially because I see his point.
My timing was terrible.
Chapter Fifteen
Emmy
Eight Years Ago
I almost didn’t show up.
I’d just graduated college, and I could’ve just as easily sent a card. In the end, Mack persuaded me, and I suppose a part of me was, I don’t know, curious. I’d been there when Owen and Lindsay started dating—maybe seeing them get married would give me the closure I needed.
It’s this kind of logic that often gets me in trouble.
But it was time for me to let go of the ridiculous fantasy of Owen Larrabee.
I arrived at the church and found him out back, in the gazebo, and I won’t lie. A part of me wanted to hear he’s having second thoughts.
Like in Old, New, Borrowed, You, the cleverly penned rom-com by Kathleen Hayden—four weddings, four stories, and all of them realize that they’re marrying the wrong person on the same day in four different cities.
Harvest Hollow could be one of those places, right?
While the rest of the guests filtered into the church, I made my way out back. When I reached the gazebo, he was leaning over the railing, staring out at the mountains, rising slightly above everything else in the near horizon. My heart fluttered at the sight of him in his tux, looking more handsome than anyone had a right to look. I knew from Mack that he was working on becoming a firefighter, and though we didn’t visit the pond as much anymore, I’d found him there once or twice over the last few years.
Each time, I left with a renewed crush.
He made it darn near impossible for me to seriously date anyone else. The ridiculous, imaginary pedestal I’d put him on made everyone else pale in comparison.
In the back of my mind, I always knew that if Owen’s feelings for me ever changed, I’d come running. Maybe that’s why my relationships were always short-lived. I’d had two different boyfriends in college, but neither captured my affection—or listened—the way Owen did.
“Wow, you clean up nice,” I said as I reached him.
He turned, and his face lit in a bright smile. “Emmy.” He stood upright and held his arms out to me. I stepped into them, and he hugged me, giving me three long seconds to pretend the circumstances are different.
I stepped away, but he kept his hands on my arms. “Look at you, all grown up.” He smiled.
“Look at you, about to be married.”
