Make Me Hate You(65)
Morgan wrinkled her nose, turning to kiss Oliver before her glossy eyes were on me again.
“It’s the kind of love Morgan’s parents have, the kind of love we all dream about, the kind of love you do everything you can to hold onto.”
My voice shook a little at that, and I cleared my throat, hating that when I looked up again, my eyes immediately found Tyler’s.
And I couldn’t tear them away.
“I don’t know much about that kind of love myself,” I admitted. “At least, not yet. But I think when you find a love like that, it’s effortless. Everything comes easy, as if loving that person is as natural as breathing, and just as necessary to live.”
Tyler’s eyes were dark and hooded, his fist wrapped around a glass of scotch, but he watched me emotionless. Azra squeezed his arm and leaned into him, casting her gaze up until he returned hers with a gentle, knowing smile that broke my heart into a thousand little shards.
My next exhale shook, echoing in the mic, and I turned my attention back to the couple with tears pricking my eyes. “Oliver, you’ve won the lottery with my girl here, and I know you’ll take care of her and love her the way she deserves. And, Morgan,” I said, smiling at my best friend. “Please, go easy on the guy, will ya?”
Everyone laughed, and I raised my glass of champagne into the air.
“To effortless love and finding that person who completes you,” I said. “And to the new Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Bradford. May your marriage be happy, healthy, and abiding.” I paused. “And may you have lots and lots of adorable babies for me to spoil.”
“And me, too!” Morgan’s mom added to the symphony of laughter.
Then everyone hollered cheers! and the room filled with the clinking of glasses and a soft applause. The wedding planner took the microphone, and Morgan and Oliver took turns wrapping me in warm hugs.
Then, the band picked up their pace, launching into the first song off the playlist Tyler and I had made — and the party began.
I took my first full breath of the evening once my speech was out of the way, finding myself able to relax — even if it was only marginally. Aunt Laura and I hit the bar together, settling on the fruity rum drink named after the newlyweds, and then we were on the dance floor with the bride and groom, giving everyone else the cue to join.
The band was a smash, and for most of the evening there wasn’t a single butt in a chair. Everyone was out dancing — even Morgan’s grandparents and Oliver’s great aunts and uncles. Aunt Laura was becoming fast friends with Oliver’s mom, and when someone grabbed a tree branch off the beach and used it as a limbo stick, all bets were off. Those two challenged each other back and forth and had the entire party rolling in laughter.
There were several surprises throughout the evening, including Robert announcing that his wedding gift to the new couple was a down payment on a house. And as much as that had surprised and thrilled the bride, nothing could have topped when Mackie’s Donut Truck pulled up on the beach next to the reception tent. Morgan’s eyes went wide as silver dollars, and she launched herself at a chuckling Oliver, who spun her around and held her tight.
“I told you I’d figure it out,” he said when he placed her back on the ground.
“My hero.”
They kissed, and my heart surged, and then I rushed to help the wedding planner distribute the donuts to all the guests.
It was easy to keep myself occupied. Whether I was grabbing a drink from the bar, or joining in for a group line dance, checking in with the wedding planner on what needed to happen next, or holding Morgan’s dress in the bathroom — I was busy. And all attention was on the bride and groom, just like it should be.
What was even better was it had been relatively easy to avoid Tyler and Azra. Any time we happened to land in the same spot on the dance floor, I’d shift, joining another group or bailing off the floor altogether. If they were at the bar, I wasn’t. If they were with the bride and groom, I was with the planner or my aunt.
I’d nearly made it.
It was almost midnight, the reception crowd winding down as little by little, the older guests were beginning to excuse themselves.
The bar was less crowded, the dance floor thinning out, too, and the newlyweds watched each other like they were ready to ditch the party and be alone.
I was almost in the clear without a single scar from the night.
But the band announced one last slow song, and though I’d been able to keep myself busy all night when the songs faded into slow melodies, I found myself completely unoccupied this time. There was nothing to do, nothing more to check, nowhere to escape to with the bar closing down and the evening coming to an end.
So, I could blame all of that — my lack of being needed elsewhere — for what I did next, but maybe it was just masochism. Maybe it was just blatant desire for self-torture that had me standing at the edge of the dance floor when Tyler took Azra into the very middle of it, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his chest as they swayed to the band’s soft and sweet version of “When A Man Loves A Woman.”
Azra wore a long, silky yellow dress that blazed off her dark skin in a way that was impossible not to marvel at. She’d caught more than just a few pairs of eyes that evening, and even now, with a dozen other couples dancing around them, they were somehow the center of attention.
At least, they were of mine.