He ignored this. “Ever since you moved, it feels as if we’re off somehow. And you know how much I hate it when we aren’t on the same frequency. I mean, we vibe, that’s what we do.”
Surely, Annie misunderstood. She was talking about squaring up, paying off debts so she could move on—literally—and he was using words like vibe and we when there hadn’t been a “we” in months.
“We don’t have a frequency, Clark. When you changed the setting from KANW to KMLM, ‘we’ were no longer ‘vibing,’ which is why I have an issue with your keeping my money for another five weeks. Five weeks. I’m not freaking out, I’m moving on. So inviting me to your wedding is completely inappropriate.”
“Inappropriate?” He, honest to God, sounded hurt by her words. “For the past six years, you have been the single most important relationship in my life. Nothing will change that.”
“The ring on Molly-Leigh’s finger says otherwise.”
“So I’m getting married. So what? Molls knows how much I rely on you,” he said, and Annie wondered how she’d ever considered him a sweet talker. “One day you’ll get married too—that doesn’t mean we can’t be each other’s rock.”
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Look, I didn’t take your call to argue, I wanted to tell you that I blew it last night, not extending the invitation properly. Nothing would make me happier than for you to share in that special day with us,” he said.
“You handed over your future happiness to another woman, Clark. I’m no longer responsible for your feelings.”
“But you’ve put so much into this wedding, Annie,” he went on as if she hadn’t even spoken. “You deserve to enjoy the product of all the hard work. I invited your parents and assumed you’d know that invitation extends to your whole family, but I wanted to make sure I was clear. We want you at the wedding, Anh Bon.”
She cringed. “You invited my parents?”
“Of course. How could I not? Maura’s like a second mother to me.”
Betrayal stuck to her ribs and pushed at her sternum. “Because she’s my mom. And if you invite her, you know she’ll feel obligated to say yes?”
“She should say yes and so should you. Even Molly-Leigh hopes that you’ll come. She told me to pass along that she’s saved you a seat at our table for the rehearsal dinner, so we can catch up. I’ve missed you.”
Annie closed her eyes to keep the pain from spilling over. The only reason a woman wouldn’t mind her man’s very recent ex-fiancée coming to her retrofitted wedding was if she knew for certain the ex posed no threat. And while Annie had zero romantic interest in Clark now, it still stung to think his love for her had been so superficial that it was insignificant.
It was devastating that a single word summed up six years of her life. The most important romantic relationship she’d ever had was insignificant.
She tried to get angry, tried to picture Emmitt handing her that sticky note, but that one word seemed to take all the steam out of her. She wished she could be the woman to tell Clark to fuck off, but what was the point when her love was nothing more than a passing note in the life of the man she’d thought to marry.
This was why Annie subscribed to the head-down, pick-your-battles method of coping. She was about to turn the big three-oh and still hadn’t found the right battle. But she knew in her heart, this wasn’t it.
“I wish you well, Clark, I really do, but I won’t be at your wedding. And I can’t be your go-to person anymore. It hurts, and as long as you still have the power to hurt me, this won’t work,” she said, leaning forward and resting her forehead on the exam table. “I need some space. Some time away from you, the wedding, my parents, so I can figure things out.”
Time away to figure out why she kept choosing people who didn’t choose her back. To discover how she’d gone from blushing bride to Hartford’s resident PPF.
More important, it was critical for her to understand what major life lesson she still had to learn to avoid ever finding herself in this situation again.
She thought back to her grandparents’ house. To the wedding picture that hung above the fireplace in the living room.
As a child, Annie would wait until everyone was asleep before sneaking into the living room to stare at the photo in wonder. She used to believe it was her grandmother’s dress that captivated her. As she grew older, Annie realized it was the way her grandparents looked at each other that made the risk of getting caught out of bed worth it.
Even through the photograph’s patina of age, the unbreakable connection between the two had been visible. The love, mind-boggling. They were each other’s person.
Clark had never looked at her that way. And, if she were being honest, she hadn’t looked at him that way either. Annie feared she’d fallen victim to the fantasy of what marriage and happily ever after would mean for her.
She was too old to put stock in fantasy and fairy tales.
Especially after she’d accidentally come across Clark’s Insta feed where he was looking at Molly-Leigh with the same adoration as her grandparents in that photo. It proved that a picture could be worth a thousand words.
Or at least as many as Annie needed to close all doors leading to Clark.
She’d closed a lot of doors over her lifetime. Just once, she wanted to be standing on the other side with someone holding her hand when the door slammed shut. Looking at her the way Grandpa Cleve always looked at Grandma Hannah.
Neither of them said anything for a long moment, just listened to the other breathe. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable or weighted down with tension as Annie had imagined it would be. And the ache that was always wrapped around her like a leash, yanking her around at will, was gone. In fact, this was the lightest she’d felt since Clark had dropped to a knee and she’d said yes.
“Can you give me that?” she asked.
“Time? I can give you all the time you need,” he said with sudden pep in his tone. “Just don’t take too long. The wedding is right around the corner and—”
“I already said no.”
“—the invite’s already in the mail.”
“Doesn’t matter. You said you were waiting for my answer. Which, unless there’s ten grand in that invite, is absolutely not.”
“I’ll see you at the wedding, Anh-Bon.”
“It’s not happening.” Silence. “Clark?” But he’d hung up.
“Damn it!” She hung up, too, then immediately redialed his number. It went directly to voice mail. By the time his greeting ended she was fuming.
“Friends don’t ask friends to go to stolen weddings, Clark. So, no, I’m not going to your wedding. And I need that deposit back now. Not next month, not at my stolen wedding, not even when the sun hits at the right moment and the hall looks like it’s illuminated by a thousand candles. I need it back
