The Wedding Party (The Wedding Date, #3)(92)

Maddie could hear Olivia in the background laughing hysterically.

Alexa was still going.

“And I’m not going to have you two ruining my one fucking wedding by walking around with little rain clouds above your heads and being too scared to talk to each other, so you’re staying in this fucking closet until you fucking make up, do you hear?”

Oh God. She really had lost it.

“Lex, we don’t have time for this!” Maddie said. “We have to get you ready, and take pictures, and . . . everything.”

“Oh, I have the time, believe me.” She heard the distinctive pop from a bottle of champagne. “Thanks, Olivia! Can you believe they thought I fell for that? But if you’re worried about time, here, I’ll give you a head start: Maddie, I know you probably got hotheaded after Theo got hurt, because you were scared of how much you cared about him, and so you lashed out at him. Theo, I know you’re probably too stubborn to deal with your bullshit—Ben is right about that! But who knows, maybe Maddie’s also being stubborn, and Theo’s also being a hothead—it could be either one! All I know is that I’m going to do a very expensive sheet mask and drink some fucking champagne right now. Make up while I’m gone.”

Maddie needed to do something to get them out of this closet.

“Lex, we’re sorry we didn’t tell you, but really, there’s nothing to make up. We just had a deal that this would last until the wedding, and now it’s the wedding and we’re done, but we’re fine, there are no hard feelings.” She glanced at Theo. “Right, Theo?”

Theo looked back at her for a long moment.

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not true. We don’t . . . I’m not saying I want Alexa to keep us locked in here. I don’t want you to be forced to talk to me. But there’s something I have to say.”

“Bye, guys! Chat later!” Alexa yelled from the other side of the closet door.

Theo looked down at the floor for a few seconds and then straight at her.

“She’s right. I’ve been too stubborn to deal with my bullshit. Maddie, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. That was fucked up, what I said about you. I’m sorry I said it; it wasn’t true. I’ve been sorry since the moment it came out of my mouth. I’ve just been too much of a freaked-out asshole to say so.”

Was he just saying this because Alexa locked them in the closet and so he felt like he had to say something? She wasn’t sure.

He sighed.

“I even wrote you”—he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket—“a letter to tell you I was sorry, but it felt shitty to give it to you in the middle of Alexa’s wedding weekend. And, okay, fine, I was scared. So I didn’t.”

Hope rose in her chest, and it scared her. She wanted to lunge for that letter, but she stayed still.

“This isn’t a justification for how I acted that day, I swear. But. I started having . . .” He sighed. “Feelings for you. But you kept talking about how we would be over after the wedding, and then after the hospital you seemed so mad at me, and you kept saying how you couldn’t wait to be done with me. I was so hurt and angry that you were so sick of me, and us. When Ben figured out how I felt about you, I needed to say something to save face. And maybe I needed to say it for myself, so I would stop caring about you so much. Call it my fucked-up male ego, or just call me a jackass. It’s probably both of those things. But I’m sorry.”

She was glad the lighting in the closet was dim. She didn’t want him to know she was close to tears.

“I should have said all of this a long time ago.” He gave her a small smile. “I guess I was just scared. Or stubborn, like Alexa said. Anyway, I’m really sorry, Maddie.” He looked down at the floor. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll talk to Alexa. I know she won’t make you pretend just because of her wedding; she’s not like that.”

He turned around and was about to pound on the closet door, but Maddie grabbed his hand in time.

“No. Wait.”

She let out a long sigh.

“Alexa was right about me, too. Seeing you collapse like that, being there in the hospital with you . . .” She had to pause before she went on. “It was so scary. I hated it. When we were there, everything in me was focused on making sure you were well, but when I had to bring you home, I was so panicked about whether you would be okay. And I couldn’t tell anybody how I was feeling, and how scared I’d been, and why, because no one knew what was going on. And plus, I was so mad at you for acting like a hero to save me and not thinking about yourself, for getting hurt like that, for making me so scared.”

She closed her eyes.

“And then that night . . . I’m so sorry about what I said about you the next day. I swear I didn’t mean it. I feel horrible that I said it. I was just so hurt, because I’d started to . . .” She shook her head. She didn’t want to go down that road. She couldn’t tell him what he’d said. What she’d said back. What she’d wanted to believe. “Because I really thought you understood me, in a way so few people do.”

He reached for her hand.

“I think I do. And I know I love you.”

Oh no. He must remember now what he’d said that night. She dropped his hand and stepped back.