The Best Man (Blue Heron #1)(38)

“No,” she whispered.

“Faith,” Jeremy said, squeezing her hands so hard he was crushing them.

“No.” She forced herself to smile. “I love you.”

Pain ripped through his eyes, eyes that had only ever before smiled at her. “Honey, I...I have to talk to you.”

A murmur went up from the congregation, and from the corner of her eye, Faith could see her father’s mouth opening in shock, Elaine—Elaine, who loved Faith like a daughter—gripping Ted’s arm.

Faith’s legs were shaking, her dress quivering with the movement. “Jeremy, let’s just finish this,” she whispered.

“Is there a problem?” Reverend White asked, his bushy eyebrows coming together.

“No!” Faith answered, her voice cracking. Oh, Lord, she was going to faint. “There’s not.”

Jeremy swallowed again, his eyes filled with tears. “Faith,” he said again, and her knees did buckle then.

“Let’s go,” Levi said, taking Faith by the arm. “Downstairs, you two.” He towed her off the altar, the train of her dress tugging with its weight. Jeremy followed.

There was a staircase right by the altar. “What the hell are you doing?” Pru asked, and then the voices of the guests rumbled and echoed in the church. Down the stairs they went, Levi’s hand inescapable. He was a bully. He was ruining everything.

“Jeremy,” she squeaked, looking back. Her fiancé didn’t meet her eyes.

Levi pushed through the door at the bottom of the stairs. The church basement was dim and smelled like chalk. Four or five metal folding chairs sat huddled together. Bible Study or AA or something. Levi let go of her arm and then guided Jeremy a few paces away, leaving her standing alone.

“What’s going on here?” It was her father, thank God, and Colleen and her sisters and Jack, and Jeremy’s parents, too. Her father came to her side and put his arm around her, and she sagged against his shoulder. “You’re ruining their wedding, Levi!”

Yes! He was supposed to be the best man, not the ruiner of weddings. How dare he? You know, she had always wished Jeremy had had a different friend. She’d never liked Levi Cooper. He was too...secretive. And confident. And he’d never liked her, especially after that one stupid kiss.

“Hang on a sec,” Levi said.

He and Jeremy were talking, Jeremy’s voice panicky, Levi’s lower, calmer. Then Jeremy nodded; Levi gave his shoulder a squeeze, nodded, then turned to the group.

“Jeremy and Faith need a little time alone,” he said. His eyes stopped—not on Faith, but on Mr. and Mrs. Lyon.

“Oh,” Elaine said, her voice very, very soft. “Oh, dear.”

“Faith?” Dad said. “Do you want us to stay?”

She looked at Jeremy, who loved her. Who’d called her last night to say everything he ever wanted was to be her husband. “It’ll be okay. It’s fine, Daddy.”

“I’ll be right on the other side of that door,” he said. “Call if you need me.”

Everyone left, slowly, uncertainly, glancing back at Faith. She sank into a metal chair, Jeremy sitting across from her. And Levi, damn him, walked a few feet away and stood with his hands behind his back, staring at the floor, looking like a stone wall.

“Does he have to stay?” Faith whispered.

“I...I’d like him to,” Jeremy whispered back. “If that’s okay.”

She looked into his eyes, which were so dark they were almost black, and which had always seemed so happy—with her, with life. Smiling seemed to be his natural expression, and everyone commented on it, that big, ready grin of his.

No smiling now.

She sensed the world was about to end.

“Faith,” he said, his voice soft and broken, “I want you to know that I do love you, so much.” He took a breath and looked at the floor. “But I can’t marry you.”

“Why?” she asked, her voice squeaking. “Are you sick? I don’t mind, I’d stay with you, that’s the whole point, in sickness and in—”

He looked back up, his gaze slamming into hers. “I’m g*y.”

The two words seemed to float around her for a few seconds, meaningless, before they hooked into her brain. She sucked in a quick breath and jerked back, and started to speak. It took a few tries; her mouth was making odd little noises, her lips trying and failing to form words. Finally, she stopped, gave her head a quick shake, and tried again.

“No, you’re not. You’re not g*y.”

“I’m so sorry.” He looked...old.

“You don’t have to be sorry! You don’t! Because you’re not. You aren’t. You can’t be.”

He hesitated, looking at the floor, folding his hands together loosely, his beautiful doctor hands. There should’ve been a wedding ring on the fourth finger of his left hand by now. There would’ve been if Levi had kept his mouth shut.

Jeremy took a deep breath. “I didn’t...acknowledge it, and I really thought I could... I mean, for a long time, I honestly didn’t know. I didn’t. I just thought those feelings would go away, and with you, it was like proof that I wasn’t—”

“Stop! Shut it, Jeremy. My God.” Okay, she was hyperventilating a little. “You are not g*y.” She took a steadying breath. “You have the worst taste in clothes I’ve ever seen in a man. I had to teach you how to dress. Remember those mom jeans you thought looked good on you? They were horrible! You have no sense of style whatsoever. If it weren’t for me and Banana Republic—”