Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense)(6)

Of course I know what he saw, but Ellie was my first, and I think, my last.

I don’t even know why I’m here anymore. Make peace with the past? I don’t know if I can. If I came home to try to win Ellie back, I’m off to a spectacular start.

The speeches are done. It’s time to eat. Beef Wellington for four hundred plus people. Not cheap. Then again, Dad was always a go large or go home kind of guy.

There are actually a full seven courses. Dinner takes an hour. I watch Ellie the whole time.

We have something in common. Neither of us eats more than a few perfunctory bites. No one seems to care, either. Ellie might as well be a statue for all the attention the people around her give her. She grips a butter knife in her hand until her knuckles go white and tremble, staring at the plate.

What follows dinner? Desert. Everybody gets up. Time to cut the cake.

Finally free to move, I edge through the guests, moving closer and closer to the wedding party. Time for the cake cutting.

Ellie stands frozen by the cake as my father cuts it. He mashes a small piece into his new wife’s mouth, smearing a little on her chin to satisfy the crowd. My fists clench again and I feel tension in my legs, like my veins are going to split open. I want to go over there and ram the cake knife into his throat.

These people all know and they do nothing.

The tedium continues through the ceremonial first dance. I watch my father gaze into the eyes of his bride as he sweeps her across the open dance floor, waiting. Once that’s done it’ll be time for the bouquet and garter.

There must be fifty women crowded around. Jessica turns her back and heaves the bouquet over her head. The bridesmaids push and jostle for it.

Ellie doesn’t catch it, so much as it hits her chest and she traps it, instinctively, with her arms. The music doesn’t stop, there’s no record scratch, but I can see the look on her face. Her whole body shakes and she sinks back into the crowd, pushing back as a bawdy song comes on and my father kneels in front of Jessica.

She has nice legs, I’ll give her that. He slips the garter down her calf and off her foot as the groomsmen and other men gather in front of him.

I push my way to the front. He scowls at me, his jaw set, then throws it, aiming away from me.

That’s how I am. I go for the catch when I should hold back. I jump, snatch it out of the air, and twirl it around my finger, staring defiantly at him before I tuck it in my pocket. He makes a move toward me, but Jessica catches his arm, smiles, and pulls him into a dance.

The music is starting. The bar is open. I need a stiff drink but I need Ellie more. My chest aches as I search for her, pushing through the crowd and ignoring an invitation to dance from Jessica’s sister or niece or whoever she is.

There’s a terrace that wraps around the entire ballroom, and that’s where I find Ellie, staring out toward the river, holding the bouquet in her hands. I step up next to her and she looks over at me. Red tracks claw down her cheek where she’s been crying, but her eye is dry now.

The wind picks up and pulls at the bouquet. Its plastic wrapping snaps and flutters.

“What do you want, Jack?”

“You,” I say plainly.

She snorts. “You’re late.”

I turn and lean on the railing next to her.

“You know,” I sigh, “after the accident they wouldn’t let me in to see you. Family only, right?”

“What about the next ten years. Would they let you in then?”

“I was in boarding school. Boarding school means you live there. In England. It’s not like I could take a bus, Ellie.”

“Summer?”

“I stayed over the summer.”

“College?”

“Still in England.”

“That’s only six years. What about the other four?”

“Army. OCS and Afghanistan.”

“They give you leave.”

“Yeah, but…”

I don’t have a f*cking excuse, do I? Not one she’s going to accept.

“You didn’t try to get in touch with me, either.”

She flinches. “Are you going to throw that at me?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I was just saying…”

“I did. I sent texts and emails and they bounced back or you never answered.”

“Dad made me change everything.”

“I wrote letters. No answer.”

“I didn’t get anything.”

She looks over at me and stares hard, her jaw clenched.

“What are you doing here? Why now?”

“I heard Dad was getting married and thought it was something of an oversight that I was not invited.”

“You’re here anyway.”

“I didn’t come for him. I came for you.”

She snorts. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago, Jack. As far as I’m concerned you’re just a bitter, ten-year-old memory.”

Her voice cracks. “Like every other memory.”

“Those days were the best of my life.”

She snorts. “Right. What did you expect, Jack? I’d fall into your arms because you show me a little attention? The ugly girl must be desperate, huh?”

“You’re not ugly. You’re just as beautiful…”

She rounds on me, drops the bouquet, and steps on it as she advances. The stems crunch under her feet. She sweeps back her hair in her hands, like she’s about to make a ponytail, and stares at me, challenging me with her gaze.