He turned toward the pews and smiled, looking as if he couldn’t be happier. As if nothing was wrong. And it hurt to see him so happy. Maybe she’d been wrong to come here. Wrong about his feelings. Wrong about everything. Just as she debated slipping out the back door and disappearing, she realized what a freaking wuss she was being.
It didn’t matter if she was wrong. She needed to tell him how she felt or she would never know if he felt the same. She couldn’t have the uncertainty hanging over her head for the rest of her life.
Someone tapped her shoulder. “May I sit with you?”
“Sure.” She slid over and looked up. Once she saw the red hair and green eyes, and the no nonsense manner in which he held himself, she recognized him. “You’re Alistair, right?”
“Yeah.” His eyes flashed. “But you can call me Al.”
“All right.” She adjusted her skirt and stared down at her legs. She didn’t know what to say to this man who’d witnessed her wedding. Gee, thanks for recording me being a drunk dumbass didn’t quite seem sufficient. “This is a beautiful wedding.”
“Yeah, it is.” Al rubbed the back of his neck. “Why are you here?”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, twisting the chiffon dress in her fists. “You know?”
“Yeah. I know you two called it quits. And he didn’t seem too happy about it.”
Morgan stole a quick peek at Mike, then focused on her hands again. If she stared at him too long, he might sense someone watching him. “He looks fine to me.”
Al shrugged. “He’s not.”
“Well, neither am I.” She licked her lips and turned to Al, not knowing why she was about to spill her guts out to a stranger but also not caring. “I’m here because I’m not happy, either. I want him back.”
“I don’t think you ever lost him.” Al motioned to the altar. “He’s still wearing his ring, and I see you are, too. Maybe you never really ended. Maybe you two just had your first fight as a married couple.”
She choked on a laugh. “I never wanted to get married.”
“Neither did he.” Al ran his hand through his hair. “Believe me…neither did he.”
The music struck up and the bride came down the aisle on the arm of Thomas. Morgan teared up at the pure happiness on Kiersten’s face. God, if she’d had to get married, she had wanted this. The wedding. The dress. Instead, she’d gotten a drunken night in Vegas and a pair of shorts.
A night she didn’t even remember.
Looking up at the altar, she saw Mike. He was watching Kiersten, the same bittersweet expression on his face that she suspected was on hers. Her heart twisted and she clung to her skirt even harder. She wanted to run up the aisle and throw herself in his arms. Hug him and tell him she loved him.
But she couldn’t ruin the wedding.
Al leaned in. “He would give you another wedding, if you wanted one. He’d do anything to make the person he loved happy.”
“I know.” She swallowed hard. “I just hope he really does love me.”
“Well, then, you’ll have to ask.”
The rest of the wedding passed by in a blur, with a bit of laughter when Garrett kissed Kiersten before the priest officially married them. By the time they turned around and headed back down the aisle as man and wife, Morgan was a gooey-limbed mess. She stood up and smoothed her hair, hoping she didn’t look like the wreck she felt.
The back of her neck tingled, as if someone were watching her. She lifted her head, and her gaze collided with Mike’s. He was still on the altar but he’d seen her. He stood there for a second, immobilized, and then he marched down the steps and headed for her. His steps were sure and his face inscrutable. He could be contemplating throwing her out on her ass, or he could be picturing her in his arms. God, she wanted him to pick her up and swing her in his arms and tell her he loved her again.
His eyes darkened the closer he got to her and she shifted on her feet. Al stood and left her alone, abandoning ship before it sank. It was only her, Mike, and the priest in the room.
Her heart raced, her body battling the nerve-wracking panic that usually came before a big audition. Except this was more important than an audition. This was her happily-ever-after that she was fighting for.
She smoothed her dress and focused on the man walking towards her.
Courage, don’t fail me now.
Chapter Fifteen
She had come. Morgan was here at his sister’s wedding but he had no idea why. He tried to read her face as he approached, tried to get a feel for what was going on inside her head, but she stared back at him with wide blue eyes and a pale face—while doing severe damage to her pretty blue dress.
He clenched his own hands into fists and closed the distance between them. Then he stopped in front of her, making sure to keep a little bit of distance between them. Her sweet fragrance surrounded him and he closed his eyes while inhaling. Would he ever get to savor her scent again? Or was this a good-bye?
“What are you doing here?” he asked as he opened his eyes and focused his gaze on her. His voice came out raspy.
She flinched. “I promised I would come and I don’t like to break my promises, either.”
“Oh.” So that’s all there was to it. The little bit of hope he’d clung to drifted away like a balloon in the breeze. “Right.”
“No, that’s a lie.” She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “You walked away from me last night.”
He had. It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because it seemed like it was time.” He leaned against the pew, trying to pretend he wasn’t a tightly wound ball of nerves right now. “You were leaving and I said something I shouldn’t have…”
Her lips parted and she moved closer to him. “What did you say that you shouldn’t have?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.” He gritted his teeth. “But it was stupid. I promised you I wouldn’t want more but then I went ahead and asked for more anyway. That’s on me.”
She rested her hand on his elbow and squeezed gently. “You can’t help the way you feel.”
“Yeah, I can. But it’s over now.”
“Is it?” She took a shaky breath. “Are you sure?”
His heart sure didn’t seem to think they were over, but his head knew better. “You don’t need to feel bad or check in on me. I was good before I met you and I’ll be okay after meeting you, too. I’m not the kind of man to mope around after a woman once she leaves.”