Bait (Wake, #1)(112)

“Are you okay?” she asked into my hair before I pulled away.

“I don't know. I'm just really tired,” I confessed and wiped the tear, which slid out without my permission, with the back of my hand. “I'm so happy for you.” I gave her the biggest smile I had and laughed a little when a few more tears slipped off my cheeks.

When I left Micah's arms, I felt Grant pull me into his side.

“Weddings make Blake emotional. Don't they, baby?” Grant asked as he rubbed my upper arm in quick strokes and gave me a little shake. “Her eyes were swollen for days after ours.”

I looked up at him and he was looking at Casey, who was looking at me. It was the first time all night that I allowed my brown eyes to indulge in the blue of Casey’s.

He looked so handsome. A little rough around the edges, but his hair had grown out a little on the top and it was trimmed neatly on the sides. His face was covered in a light beard. The top two buttons on his steel gray dress shirt were open and the tiny sight of his body underneath made my mouth water and my body flush.

“Time to go,” Grant whispered into my ear. All this time, all of these days and nights, minutes and months, I'd never been in this place. Never had Grant been in my ear while I was looking at Casey like that. A chill ran up the back of my neck.

I thought that this might be it. The second I break free and say no to Grant and yes to myself. To Casey. To the possibility of perfection. To risk giving everything to Casey, to give him more than the mere fraction of myself that I possessed.

In my silent panic, time slowed. I watched Casey’s eyelashes dip and touch over his cheeks. My pulse thrummed in my ears. A peaceful broken smile became his face.

I chanced a look at my husband, he turned our bodies to leave and began walking us away from them. From him.

If I would have had the strength, I could have resisted the backward look over my shoulder. I wouldn't have seen the look on his face. I wouldn't have watched the scrap of faith in me pass past his lips in a whoosh.

I wouldn't have seen his balled fists shoot up in the air, as he looked up and turned his back to us as well.

My heels clicked against the marble as we walked to the doors in the front of the country club.

Grant talked in the car.

“The food was good,” he said.

“Everyone seemed very nice,” he said.

“They’re a great couple,” he said.

“It reminded me of our wedding,” he said.

“For some reason I thought Casey was a woman,” he said turning my blood to ice. I remember him assuming that when he’d called the day Foster was born. I didn’t react.

I listened and smiled when I should.

My mind split. I'd perfected the multi-tasked conversation. I was waiting for him to ask something about the tension back at the dinner, so I paid close attention to what he said with one hemisphere of my brain. But on the far side of my mind, I screamed in frustration and I wailed in agony.

I imagined going to Casey. Letting go of Grant and running to him before, rewriting the last minutes we were at the rehearsal.

In that car ride, I accepted that the love I had for Casey, which lived like a parasite in my heart, was the biggest part of me. It lived in every cell. My mitochondria duplicated it and spread our secrets upon generations within me.

I had no choice and the sad truth of that realization was, that if I had had a choice, I'd probably f*ck that up, too.





Wednesday, December 30, 2009


WE ALL MADE CHOICES. I made the choice not to put my fist through the wall behind me as they walked out of the club’s banquet hall.

The look on her face told me what I wanted it to. She didn't hide it very well. The fact was that she wasn't able to pretend, even with him standing right there, that she didn't want me. Her body couldn't lie to mine.

I’d stared holes in the back of her head all night.

I’d prayed for the second when she couldn't take it anymore. Still, the stubborn woman never looked. I watched as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, under the scrutiny of my gaze. I watched how my simply being in a room with her turned her inside out.

One look was all it took.

She left with him. I couldn't watch that.

If she needed motivation to make the decision, I was going to help her.

I was taking Aly to the wedding.

She asked for a year.

I'd already waited long enought. I was done waiting. I wanted her now. I sent her a message, even though we’d said we wouldn’t. I was done with that, too.

Me: Hang-in there, honeybee. It’s going to get rough.

I sent her that message for a few reasons. I guessed her phone was probably off and that she'd see it before bed and so I'd, most likely, be the last thing she'd think about. And also to let her know that I wasn't waiting for her to text me anymore.

The rules had changed.

Plus, I wanted to let her know it was almost over. I wasn’t blind to her pain. When it came to her, I could see past my own despair.

I was going to fight.

I was going to drag her through hell.

I was going to make her so uncomfortable that we'd have a resolution by this time the next night. Either she was going to hate me and or she was going to crack and let her husband see what was really on the inside of her.

A heart marked with my name.