I changed the subject after that because I didn’t want to turn the evening into my personal pity party.
I fall into the chair next to him. “We agreed on a time to meet to talk. They left town before we had that chance.”
His eyes catch mine. I see concern in them.
If I had been given the chance to handpick an older brother, I would have chosen Nelson. He’s always been there for me. He’s never faltered in his love for me. I value his opinion, so whenever I’ve gone to him for advice, I almost always find myself on the same page as him.
He cheered me on when I quit college to pursue my dream of being a food stylist and photographer. Nelson was integral in securing my first job. The father of one of his patients is a renowned restaurateur in Manhattan.
Hunter Reynolds owns Axel New York and Axel Tribeca. He gave me a shot at helping him update the images on his websites. It was my first big break, and with his endless list of contacts in the culinary world, my career took off.
“Mom’s so-called friends are bitches.”
I hold in a smile. “What happened?”
The question is semi-rhetorical. My mom’s inner circle is composed of judgmental women who are quick to criticize anyone who doesn’t behave in the manner that they think is respectable.
I handed them my mom’s pride on a silver platter when I blew up my wedding day.
Nelson runs a hand over his chin. “She got a few calls, a couple of emails, and a temporary boot from her position as co-chair of the charity gala.”
I don’t bother asking what charity gala. My mom has taken on the role of helping any organization that needs it since she retired. A few months ago, it was a silent auction to benefit the arts. Last year she helped organize a fundraiser to aid a children’s hospital.
“That happened because I left Warren at the altar?”
“Warren’s mom was the other co-chair,” he points out. “They were going to announce the charity gala at your reception.”
I put her in an even more impossible situation than I realized.
“It makes more sense now,” I say under my breath as I aimlessly slide a puzzle piece around the table, not heading for any destination in particular.
Nelson’s hand falls to mine to stop it. “What makes more sense?”
My bottom lip trembles. I’ve kept the words to myself because I knew that I’d break when I said them, but I can’t keep it inside a moment longer.
I catch his gaze with mine. “Cleta packed up my room. She’s going to ship it all here.”
His expression stays steady. “They just need time, Afton. They packed up my room after Joel and I moved in here. Don’t read too much into it.”
“My graduation picture wasn’t on the foyer table,” I add. “Yours was, and mom and dad’s were, but mine was gone.”
His lips edge apart so he can blow out a heavy exhale. “I haven’t spoken to them since they left town, but I will. Don’t beat yourself up over how anyone else is reacting to what you did.”
“That’s easier said than done,” I say through a stuttered, uneasy laugh.
He squeezes my hand in his. “From what Joel’s been telling me, Warren wasn’t in this one hundred percent either. You can’t turn back the clock. Focus on tomorrow. That’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”
Nodding, I swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Joel also mentioned the fireman who crashed your wedding.” He winks. “No one’s going to blame you if you focus some time on him too.”
A smile slides over my mouth. “No one’s going to blame me?”
“Joel and I won’t,” he clarifies. “That’s a great looking man. You could use the distraction, so if he shows up here again, let him in.”
“He’s in love with his ex,” I point out.
Nelson slips a piece of the puzzle into place. “I didn’t say marry him, did I?”
Shaking my head, I push back from the table. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
Grinning from ear to ear, he perks both brows. “That’s how Joel and I started, so…”
“So, I’ll start dinner,” I interrupt. “You can invite your husband to join us as long as we agree that Luke Jones is not up for discussion tonight.”
“Joel will be here, but there’s no way in hell I agree to that.” He moves to stand. “I’ll grab a bottle of wine from upstairs. The three of us are going to toast to your bravery.”
Tears pool in the corners of my eyes, but they don’t fall. “My bravery?”
He steps closer so he can press a kiss to the center of my forehead. “It took a lot of courage not to go through with the wedding, Afton. I know I’m not mom or dad, but for what it’s worth, I’m damn proud of you.”