Chapter Two
“A love so deep. A love so wide. A love so extravagant—that even death wouldn’t deter me from an eternity by your side. Can you imagine that type of love, Kiersten? Can you fathom it? Well, can you?”—Wes Michels
Kiersten
Lisa tugged my hair with a brush and then set to work on braiding it into a loose crown around my head.
“How did you keep this a secret?” I gasped as she pulled a bit too hard and glared when she smiled like she’d done it on purpose.
“If I can keep my identity a secret as well as Gabe’s secret life—I can surely keep a surprise wedding a secret.” She grinned at me through the mirror. “Vault. I’m a vault.”
“Rrrriiiight.” I laughed, while she shoved a few bobby pins into the base of the braid and grabbed the hairspray.
“Hold your breath. I don’t want this to fall out.”
I covered my face with my hands and took a deep breath as the cold hairspray hit the base of my neck and top of my head.
“Now.” Lisa set down the can. “Makeup and the dress.”
I giggled—I couldn’t help it. Was this really happening? Was I going to be a wife in a few hours? How the heck had Wes planned everything? It was a tie between being so nervous I wanted to puke and being so excited I couldn’t actually sit still.
I hadn’t told Wes—mainly because I didn’t want to add to the stress, but with everything going on with Gabe, things had felt distant. I know he wanted to be there for his friend, but between practice and him making sure Gabe didn’t jump out a window—I’d kind of fallen into the cracks. Though if I were being completely honest to myself it felt more like a giant chasm.
“Hey…” Lisa held out a dress. “You ready for the fairy tale?”
I gasped when she zipped open the garment bag. The color white made everything more real. The material shimmered and beckoned from the bag. The lamplight from the room gave the beading a warm glow. I was almost afraid that if I touched the dress it would disappear. “Is that for me?”
“From your future husband—he flew it in from France.”
“WHAT?” I shrieked.
“Wes Michels does style good.” Lisa’s smile grew to epic proportions. She clapped her hands in excitement. “Then again he may have had the super awesome best friend of the bride help out a bit with measurements.” Lisa giggled and thrust the dress into my arms. “Now hurry and get dressed, we don’t have a ton of time.”
Chapter Three
The type of love that makes you want to laugh out loud—scream a bit—run in circles—and then repeat? Yeah that’s how I felt about Wes. Totally. Out. Of. Control. Giddiness.—Kiersten
Lisa
My smile felt so forced that it ached. Don’t get me wrong. I was really excited for Kiersten—what type of friend would I be if I wasn’t excited?
I felt like the last one. The redheaded stepchild. However, you want to look at it. Wes had Kiersten…Gabe had Saylor…
And I had…a shady past filled with the memory of a guy I’d betrayed. A guy I could have loved—but had destroyed instead.
Yeah, so much for happy memories.
“How’s it look?” Kiersten emerged from the bathroom and twirled. The dress was actually an embellished bodice with a sweetheart cut, while the skirt was around seven layers of lace and intricate beading. It had a definite Spanish flair. It was something I knew Kiersten would love.
And when I’d tried to show Wes, he’d covered his eyes and pulled out his credit card and mumbled something about not wanting to see the dress before the wedding and that I should do “whatever it takes” to make the love of his life happy.
I snatched that credit card with lightning speed—no girl should say no to a Wes Michels credit card, those bad boys have no limit, which was also a perk since I’d had it shipped that very day.
“You look beautiful.” I fought the tears clogging my throat as Kiersten’s smile filled the room with joy. I had to look away. I needed to look away because it broke my heart that I would never have that same type of joy
. That same smile. I didn’t deserve it and part of me wondered if I ever really wanted it in the first place. When you want something, you fight for it, right? And I never fought. I just gave in, over and over again. I gave in to the nameless faces, the touches, the numerous advances…and then there was Taylor.
I didn’t give in to him. Not the first time. Or even the second, but the third? The fourth? The fifth? Sixth? Seventh? I’d lost count. And he’d turned out to be a monster. So I’d tried to leave. But the thing about leaving someone who’s a sociopath? They always find you.