Make Me Hate You(46)

I needed to let him go, to let the fantasy go — and the only way to do that was with lots and lots of distance between us.

The officiant and wedding planner took over then, explaining the timing of the ceremony, cocktail hour, and reception, and taking time to ensure we all understood our place, where we’d be waiting, where we’d walk and stand or sit when it was our time. Then, we did a run-through of the whole thing with Oliver and Morgan standing off to the side to watch.

When we finished, we all turned to the happy couple, who were whispering amongst themselves while Morgan pointed here and there before hanging her hands on her hips.

She sighed after a while, stepping back up onto the dock. “I’m just having trouble picturing it, especially for the vows and the lighting of the unity candle and such.”

“Maybe if you had someone stand where you’ll be standing,” the officiant offered. “We could pretend to light the candle, show you the way it would look from each angle of the audience.”

Morgan’s eyes lit up immediately. “That’s a great idea!” she said, pointing at the sweet man before her finger landed on me. “Jaz, Ty, get up there and give me a visual.”

Tyler and I locked hard, no, no, no, please, not us looks before we both looked at his sister.

“Do you really think this is nec—” Tyler started, but Morgan was already shoving him to stand where Oliver would. She reached over and pulled my arm next, until we were facing each other.

“I know it seems silly,” she said to both of us. “But you know how I am. I need visuals. And it’s bad luck for me and Oliver to do it before the big day.” She clapped her hands together then, her giant brown eyes tripling in size somehow behind the frames of her glasses. “Pleaseeee.”

I chuckled as Tyler rolled his eyes, because we were both a lost cause when it came to that girl.

“We’re already standing here, aren’t we?” Tyler said, sweeping his hand over our general area. He slid his hands into his pockets immediately after, huffing with his gaze stretching out over the water like he couldn’t wait to get this over with.

That makes two of us, buddy.

The officiant suggested that we re-do the walk in, just to get the full effect, and so we did. I chastised myself for being so twitchy as I watched Amanda and Oliver’s parents walk out ahead of me, then the wedding planner, who was pretending to be me walking ahead of Morgan. The closer it got to my turn to walk, the more I fidgeted and chewed my lip.

“Alright, now the bride,” the planner called out, and I took a deep breath, surprised a little when Robert slid up beside me and looped my arm through his.

“Can’t let the bride walk out there alone,” he said with a wink, and then the doors separating us from the beach opened, and everything came into view at once.

The sun, setting slowly, casting striking shades of pink and red and orange across the sky.

The waves, washing in gently behind the gazebo.

The wood aisle, fresh and new, with family and friends gathered on each side.

And there at the end of it all was Tyler.

My heart lurched at the sight of him standing there, waiting for me, but somehow my feet were already moving, carrying me toward him. I held fast to his father’s arm, shaky without even being in high heels as we moved closer and closer.

And all the while, Tyler just stared.

His hands were still in his pockets, and he’d been looking out over the water until the doors opened. When he’d turned and seen me, it was as if he could picture what we were pretending — me in a white dress, bouquet in hand, walking toward him to vow to be his wife.

I watched him carefully as his eyes focused, widening and then narrowing, a thick swallow making his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. I expected him to look away, to huff at the ridiculousness of it or roll his eyes again.

But he watched me, too.

Our eyes stayed locked on one another, and the seconds seemed to crawl by like hours, until I was at the end of the aisle, just a few feet from him, and a lifetime of words unsaid hung between us like live wires.

The officiant asked who gave me to be wed, and Tyler’s dad kissed my cheek before handing me to Tyler. He seemed hesitant at first, but then his hand shot out from his pocket, taking mine, and he helped me step up until I was level with him at the foot of the arch.

I heard a little gasp from where Morgan stood watching, but it felt like it was miles away — like everyone was miles away. Tyler pulled his other hand free of his pocket, and then both his hands were holding both of mine in the space between us, and his eyes crawled over every inch of my hair, my face, my neck, like he was memorizing this moment to lock away forever.

I let my gaze wander over him, too — noting the way his hair was slightly sandy from his time on the beach, how he was already somehow more tan than yesterday, how his eyes, so deep and dark, held a million different emotions there across from me. He was even wearing a white button-up, the sleeves rolled to the elbow, paired with shorts the same color as the sand. He looked like he could be the groom of a beach wedding.

And for a split second that struck me like a lightning bolt, I felt like the bride.

Morgan bounced with glee to my side, already spouting off a bunch of ideas now that she’d seen the full ceremony play out, but I was still watching Tyler.

He ran his thumbs across each of my wrists, making me shiver so hard my eyes closed with the force.