A Long Time Coming
: Chapter 9

Lia: Password is on tonight. Am I coming to your place, or are you coming to my place? I need to run to the grocery store if you’re coming over here. I don’t have any Sour Patch Kids or Sprite.

Breaker: Oh, I need to take a rain check.

I stare down at my phone, confused.

A rain check?

I’m pretty sure Breaker has never used that term with me . . . ever.

Lia: A rain check? Is this my Pickle? Just want to make sure he wasn’t abducted or anything.

Breaker: Not abducted, just have plans.

Oh.

Plans? With whom?

Birdy?

I mean, I shouldn’t care, but it’s Password, and we always watch Password together.

We pause the game, and one of us replaces out the password and makes the other guess, then we let it play out on screen. During the whole process, we drown ourselves in handheld calzones from our favorite pizzeria, suck on Sour Patch Kids until our tongues are raw, and wash it all down with Sprite, which always causes us to burp through the remainder of the night.

It’s tradition!

So why would he just . . . book other plans?

I lift from my desk, where I’ve been working on a detailed Excel sheet, and then walk over to my bed and flop down on it. I should just tell him to have fun and see him on Friday when we meet with The Beave, but for the life of me, I can’t let this go, so I text him back.

Lia: Plans, huh? With Birdy?

I send the text and wince, hating that I’m so curious.

Breaker: JP and Lottie actually. We’re going to some bar JP’s been talking about. Thought about asking Birdy to go, but not sure yet. That would be four times in one week that I see her. Don’t want to look desperate.

Lia: Four times? That’s more than you’ve seen me.

The disparity weighs heavily on my already churning stomach.

Four times? That’s . . . that’s so much.

Breaker: Well, there was the double date, then the baking thing, and I went over to her place last night, so if I invited her out tonight, that would be a bit much, don’t you think?

I think three times is a bit much.

Also . . . he could invite me to go out to the bar with everyone. Clearly, I’m not doing anything tonight.

Lia: You went there last night? Did you go for a reason?

Breaker: Just to hang. We talked a lot. She’s not a fan of Kylo and Rey, which was a tough pill to swallow, but hey, you can’t win them all. She did think one of the fan accounts I showed her was pretty hot.

Lia: She doesn’t like Kylo and Rey together? I’m pretty sure that is terms for never talking to her again.

Breaker: It was easy to forgive, especially since I’m taking her on a hike on Saturday and a birdwatching tour.

Lia: Oh, cool. The same tour we go on?

Breaker: Yeah, it’s the best one. She seems pretty excited about it. Said she got an outfit and everything.

Lia: Does it have a bird on it?

Breaker: She said it was a surprise.

Bet it’s a sports bra and shorts. She seems nice and all but also . . . a bit thirsty.

Lia: Well, what am I supposed to do about Password tonight?

Breaker: Have Brian come over. He should start playing with you anyway.

Lia: What do you mean, “anyway”? This is our game.

Breaker: Yes, but you’ll be married soon. I can’t keep coming over on our set nights. This is a good change, Lia.

Lia: Wait . . . did you make plans on purpose? To guide me into some sort of transition?

Breaker: I forgot how smart you are.

Lia: Uh, I don’t need you transitioning me. I’m a big girl, Breaker.

Breaker: Okay, so then go be with your fiancé. Talk about your wedding, make sure he knows what’s happening with it.

Lia: Why does it feel like you’re distancing yourself?

Breaker: I’m not, Lia. I’m just trying to prepare you. Once you get married, everything changes.

Lia: You say that as if it’s a punishment.

Breaker: It’s not, but the fact of the matter is, I can’t be there for you like I am now. I can’t be your companion, and you can’t be mine, simple as that.

Lia: Companion? Where is all of this coming from?

Breaker: Nowhere, it’s just facts. That’s what’s happening with our lives—we’re evolving, changing, and this is just the next step. Now I have to go. See you on Friday.

I stare at my phone, reading over our texts repeatedly, trying to figure out what’s happening. Sure, I’m getting married and will soon be living with my husband, but that doesn’t mean I need to cut ties with Breaker or stop interacting with him. Hell, he’s seen Birdy, someone he barely knows, more times this week than me.

And that makes me sad. All of this makes me sad. And the one person I would talk to about it just said he would see me on Friday.

Tears well in my eyes just as a knock sounds on my door.

I sit up from my bed, hopeful that it’s Breaker and that his texts are all just a ruse. I quickly wipe under my eyes, run to the entryway, and throw open the door, where I replace Brian on the other side, holding a bouquet of roses and wearing a large smile.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he says, and I swear light sparkles off his freshly whitened teeth. “Thought I’d surprise you with some flowers and . . .”—he picks up an overnight bag—“a sleepover.”

“Oh, wow,” I say, trying to make my voice sound excited, not disappointed. “I was, uh . . . I was not expecting that.”

“Yeah, neither was I.” He hands me the flowers. Red roses, which I despise due to how cliché and unoriginal they are. Something I thought Brian knew. “It was actually Breaker’s idea.” Ah . . . what? “He also told me to pick up Sour Patch Kids and Sprite, so that’s in the bag as well. Not sure why, but he said it’s what you guys need while playing Password.”

“Breaker told you to do all this?”

“Well, the flowers were my idea, but game night was his. Said since he won’t be around as much, I should learn the things you love.” Brian leans in and gives me a kiss on the cheek. He pushes past me into my apartment as I stand there stunned.

Breaker set this up?

He wants Brian to learn all the things I love?

Why is he doing this? Why is he trying to extract me from his life?

I’m sure he’s probably doing this to be nice, but it’s hurtful.

And no way am I going to be able to enjoy this night unless I get to the bottom of it.

So taking a chance, I say, “Uh, Brian, I need to make an important business call. I’m going to run over to Breaker’s so I don’t bother you.”

“Oh, I can be quiet if you want.”

I shake my head. “Trust me, these walls are paper thin. You could hear everything. Just make yourself comfortable, and I’ll be back shortly.”

“Okay. Love you.”

I smile at him. “Love you.”

Phone in hand, I slip out of my apartment and go straight to Breaker’s. There is a very slim chance that he’s there, but at least I can try, and if he’s not, I can call him from his apartment.

I knock on the door gently and then give it a few moments before checking the door, it’s unlocked. I push through just as Breaker approaches the entryway.

“Lia, everything okay?”

I shut the door behind me and fold my arms at my chest. “No, everything is not okay.”

“Okay . . .” he drags out. “Well, I was just headed out—”

“Really? You’re not going to ask me what’s wrong?”

“I have a feeling I know,” he says as he moves back toward his guest room, and I follow him. It’s the one room the farthest away from my apartment. We’ve fought in here before while Brian was in my apartment, and there’s no doubt that’s what he’s thinking now. He takes a seat on the guest bed and says, “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” I say in a hushed but forceful tone. “How about you tell me what’s going on, because last I checked, you’re pawning our traditions off onto Brian.”

“I’m not pawning them off. I’m including him.”

“I don’t need you to include him. I do my own things with Brian. What I need you to do is stop pushing me away.”

“I literally saw you yesterday. How is that pushing you away?”

“You saw me for wedding things. You’re pushing me away from our normal stuff.”

He glances away, yet I can see he wants to say something. Something is on the tip of his tongue, but he’s holding back.

“Just say it,” I push.

He bows his head and shakes it.

“So is this how it’s going to be, Breaker? I’m engaged to be married, and now you won’t even tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I can’t tell you what I’m thinking.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Because it’s about you,” he whisper-shouts.

I take a step back, trying to understand why he seems so jittery, so irritated.

“Well, if it’s about me, then just tell me. Clearly, it’s something you need to get off your chest.”

“Fine,” he says, and then his eyes meet mine. “You want to talk? We can talk. We’ve relied on each other too much, and I realized today that I’m not in a relationship because of you.”

“Excuse me?” I ask. “Uh, care to explain how that’s my fault?”

“Because you became my safety net. Why do I need a companion when I have you to fall back on?”

“So basically, because I was being a good friend, you’re mad at me and trying to extract me from your life?”

“No.” He tugs on his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what exactly are you saying, Breaker? Because it seems to me like you’re having some sort of relationship crisis because I’m getting married, and now you’re desperate to replace someone, and the one person you have been seeing isn’t exactly what you were looking for. Therefore, you’re blaming me for all of it.”

“Wow.” He stands up now, his height towering over me. “That’s not what I was fucking saying. Way to twist my words.”

I throw my hands up in defeat. “Then what are you saying?”

“We’re just . . . we’re too close.”

“Too close?” I nod sarcastically. “Okay, so the friendship we’ve built over the last decade is too good. That’s the problem?” I step away. “Okay, good to know. I’m sorry for caring about you so much and being a part of your life to the point that I’ve actually hurt you.”

“Lia, don’t,” he says, reaching for me.

“No, you don’t,” I say as I turn around on him. “That’s really shitty, Breaker, for you to push me away because you think I’ve prevented you from replaceing someone to be with. I’ve done nothing of the sort. Your dating life is your problem, not mine. Maybe instead of looking at the people who love you and support you to blame, try looking inward. I’m not the reason you’re not with someone. The reason you’re single is because you don’t ever think anyone is good enough. Your standards are so impossibly high that no one will ever match them. That’s the problem. Not me.”

I turn on my heel, but he catches up and tugs on my arm.

“Lia, wait.”

I snatch my arm away and say, “And what’s the big deal anyway? Why now? Why do you have to replace someone now? Just because I’m getting married, you think you need to get married too?”

“No,” he says, a furrow in his brow.

“Then why is this a thing right now? Why are you making this an issue? I’ve dated other guys. Yes, not many, but I’ve had boyfriends. Why is this so different?”

“I don’t know,” he says, looking distraught.

Maybe an hour ago, I would have sat him down and talked through his feelings with him, but not now, not this time. My fiancé, who wants to spend time with me and do something I love, is in my apartment waiting for me. Breaker is being ridiculous and thoughtless. He can stew in his own vomit for a while.

“Maybe that’s something you need to figure out.” I head toward his front door.

“Lia, I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, not okay.” I turn around again. “This is not how we treat each other. I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, what could possess you to have these thoughts and drastic ideas of pushing me toward Brian when I don’t need pushing, but I will tell you one thing. It’s going to drive a wedge between us. If that’s what you want, then job well done.” I reach the front door and say, “And don’t worry about Friday. It’s just looking for a dress, so I won’t need your help with that.” And then I leave his apartment where I pause in the hallway, in the space between my door and his, and I sink down to the ground where I quietly cry. What the hell is happening to us?

“UH, I DON’T KNOW . . . DISHWASHER?” Brian asks as I flop back on the couch.

“How could you possibly get dishwasher from the clue shark?”

“I don’t know,” Brian says, frustrated. “This game makes no sense.”

“How does it not make sense? You offer a clue to your partner, and then they try to guess, simple as that.”

“But your clues aren’t helping.”

“I gave you three clues. Mouth, dentist, and shark.”

“Yeah, great clues. How the hell do those even go together?” he asks.

“Teeth!” I shout. “My God, Brian, the password is teeth! You should have gotten it with dentist.”

“Well, this is my first time playing. I’m sorry I’m not as good as Breaker. Maybe if you weren’t shoving all this godforsaken sugar down my throat, I would have been able to guess.”

“I wasn’t comparing you to Breaker,” I say through clenched teeth.

“You didn’t have to. I could see it written all over your face.”

“Great assumption,” I say as I offer him a thumbs up and then stand from the couch. “Because apparently, you know exactly what’s going on in my head, besides what I’m really thinking about, and what I’m really thinking about is freaking TEETH! God,” I shout, utterly frustrated. “I’m going to bed. Feel free to go home if you’d like.”

I leave the living room and head straight for my bedroom and bathroom, where I close the door. Since I’m already in my pajamas, I go to the sink and splash water on my face. I dry my face and then stare into the mirror as tears fill my eyes.

I don’t have a moment to blot them away before Brian opens the bathroom door and leans against the counter.

“I’m sorry, Lia.”

I can’t look at him. I’ll cry.

But I can’t move either.

I feel paralyzed.

Nothing seems to be going right.

Breaker is trying to remove me from his life.

Brian is an idiot and doesn’t understand a simple clue like dentist.

I’ve lit a veil on fire, flicked blood on my future mother-in-law, and punched her in the boob.

The wedding planning is going at lightning speed despite the accidents.

I’m embarrassing myself left and right.

I got in a huge fight with my best friend, something I don’t do very often.

And the worst part of it all is that I have no one to turn to.

No one.

I grip the counter even tighter as my body sways, the pressure I’ve been carrying mounting on my shoulders as my breathing picks up.

“Hey, are you okay?” Brian asks as he steps up closer.

“N-No,” I mutter right before my legs give out on me.

Brian quickly scoops me up, my name a frightened plea as he carries me to the bed.

“Jesus, what’s going on?” he asks as he brushes his hand over my forehead. “You’re pale. Lia, what’s happening? Do you want me to call for help?”

I shake my head as my lip trembles, and tears fall down the side of my head. “No. Just . . . just let me get some sleep.”

“You think I’m going to leave you like this? You almost hit your head on the counter. There’s no way I’m leaving.” He sits right next to me and places his hand on my stomach. “Talk to me, Lia. What’s going on?”

“I just . . .” My lips tremble some more. “I’m just freaking out,” I say, not wanting to tell him the truth. Things are already weird between Brian and Breaker—that much is evident after the display in the living room—I don’t need to make Brian mad at Breaker for putting me in this mental state.

“Freaking out about the wedding?”

“About . . . us,” I say, which is partially true.

“What about us?” he asks.

“We can’t play Password. We’re getting married, Brian. We should be able to play Password. And . . . and the wedding planning is a nightmare. I’ve set things on fire and bloodied people and swatted your mother’s breast, and we can’t seem to agree on much. And you don’t care about the plans, which is fine. I know you’re busy, but . . . it doesn’t seem like we’re on the same wavelength.”

“We are,” he says. “That’s just a stupid game, which proves nothing. What we do in our everyday life, our thoughts, and our morals, that’s what matters. And we are on the same wavelength there. Right?”

“Yes,” I say quietly, even if he doesn’t get it. Maybe it’s from watching my parents as I grew up, but I just feel there needs to be a deeper connection. I want him to be able to guess what I’m going to say next. I want him to be able to understand me without even having to talk, and I don’t think we have that. “But . . . do you know everything about me?” I ask.

“Of course I do,” he says. “And what I don’t know, I’ll spend the rest of our lives replaceing out. Getting married to someone doesn’t mean you know a list of facts about your partner like some reality trivia game. I’m marrying you because you make me happy, because I can’t imagine a day when I don’t think about you in my life, and because I love you, Lia. I’m not marrying you because I happen to know what you like to order from the sandwich shop around the corner or because you can telepathically answer a stupid Password question. Those are all menial things when it comes to getting married. It doesn’t matter.” He moves his hand to my heart. “This matters. Our love matters.”

I hear the words he’s saying.

I’m nodding as I listen.

And when he curls into me, spooning me from behind so we both can get some sleep, I go along with it because I can’t do anything else to stop the sensation of feeling empty inside.

“LIA, HEY,” I hear a voice say just as I enter Morning Perk for a quick coffee before heading to the dress shop.

I turn to the right just in time to catch Birdy approaching.

Great, just what I need.

Ever since my fight with Breaker, I haven’t felt like myself. I’ve been going through the motions of work, talking with Brian, even answering some emails from The Beave, and just saying yes to whatever asinine plan she presents. At this point, I don’t care.

I haven’t heard from Breaker since the fight, which in our world feels like decades.

I’m sad.

Depressed.

I miss my parents. God, I wish my mom was here. I wish I could ask her if Brian is right. If it took years for Dad to understand all her idiosyncrasies. If what Breaker and I have took years and is only good because we’ve had a decade together, and that I need to be confident that things will eventually click with Brian. “Those are all menial things when it comes to getting married. It doesn’t matter. Our love matters.” Is he right? I. Don’t. Know. My mom would know.

I really wish I could crawl into a hole and not deal with any of this. I just feel so . . . fragile, and that’s never a word I’ve associated with myself.

But right now? Birdy.

“Hey, Birdy,” I say, trying to tack on a smile.

“Oh wow, your hair looks so shiny,” she says while touching the ends. “It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, thanks. I went to the salon around the corner and got it blown out. I’m trying on dresses today, and my soon-to-be mother-in-law told me to make sure my hair resembled what I wanted on my wedding day.”

“Beautiful,” Birdy says, and I can’t tell if she’s genuine or not. “Is your color natural?”

“Yes,” I say. “My dad descended from a long line of redheads.”

“I’m jealous.” She smiles brightly, and God, she really is just perfect, isn’t she? Great smile, bright blue eyes, and a perfect body. No wonder Breaker has been hanging out with her a lot. “So you headed over to the dress shop now?”

“Yes, I’m just going to grab some coffee first because I’ll need some caffeine to get through this shopping trip.”

Confused, Birdy asks, “Shouldn’t shopping for a wedding dress be fun?”

It should be when you’re not fighting with your best friend.

“My future mother-in-law can be difficult.” I leave it at that.

“Well, she shouldn’t have a say in it, but that’s just my opinion. Anyway, I won’t keep you from your appointment. I just wanted to say hi and thank you and Brian for setting me up with Breaker.” She clutches her hands at her chest. “He’s amazing. I don’t know how he’s still single, but I lucked out, because he’s everything I could ask for in a man.” She leans forward and elbows me as if we’re close comrades. News flash: we are not. “And quite the kisser. Oh my God.”

Things I don’t need to hear right now.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” I say with a big smile that is as fake as fake can be.

“Okay, have fun. I’m going to meet up with Breaker right now.” She twiddles her fingers at me as my heart sinks down to the floor.

“Yeah, bye,” I say as I turn toward the line, my breath picking up. He’s meeting up with her right now?

I know I told him not to bother showing up for the dress shopping, but he really isn’t going to be there?

No one is going to be there besides The Beave.

Is that what my life has come to? I don’t have any other friends?

I don’t have any other support?

All I have is Brian and his mother?

Once again, tears well in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall, not here, not in the coffee shop. I make quick work of ordering myself a coffee, and thankfully, they’re quick to deliver. With coffee in hand, I decide to walk to the bridal shop, which is a few blocks down. No need to drive.

As I head down the street, I clutch my coffee close to my chest and let out a deep breath.

Mom was supposed to be here today, and she’s not.

I’ve isolated myself so much after their deaths that I’ve slowly lost any other friendships I had besides Breaker because he was the one who held me when I cried. He distracted me when I was feeling sad. He kept me moving forward.

And now that we’re not talking and in a weird place, I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life.

When I reach the bridal shop, I hold my breath, waiting to see any sign of Breaker, but as I draw closer, all I can see through the windows is The Beave, pulling dresses for me to try on.

For a moment, the thought of running away crosses my mind. Taking off and just . . . leaving. Fleeing, getting away from all of this, but as the thought comes, it quickly washes away because that will do nothing to solve the problem. It will only trigger it more.

So with a cup of coffee in hand, a fake smile on my face, I walk through the doors of the bridal shop.

“Ah, there she is,” The Beave says when she spots me. “My dear, look at your hair.” Here come the insults. “It’s so lovely.” She walks up to me and strokes the long strands. “I would prefer you have an updo for the wedding, but this is quite appealing.”

Color me shocked. Was not expecting that, and even though it was nice to avoid any snark, scowl, or insult from my future mother-in-law, it does nothing to curb my morose mood.

“Thank you,” I say and then glance around the empty bridal shop. “Are we the only ones here?”

“Oh, I blocked off the shop for us so we won’t be disturbed by any other people searching for a dress. I thought having the shop to ourselves could ensure we stay focused on what we’re looking for.”

We . . . funny how she uses that term about my dress.

“We do have at least three to replace,” she adds.

Oh, I forgot about that.

“Yes, a lot of shopping to do,” I say as I look around one more time, just in case Breaker is here and I missed him.

“Now, where is Breaker so we can get started?” she asks.

Well, that confirms it. He’s not here. Another dose of anxiety and depression rips through me.

“Oh, uh, something came up,” I say. “He won’t be able to make it.”

The lie feels so lifeless coming out of me, I barely believe it myself, but it seems to appease The Beave because she snaps her stupid fingers and says, “Well then, let’s get started. We’ll be trying on ceremony dresses first. I had them pull classic silhouettes as well as elegant off-the-shoulder pieces.”

“Great,” I say, going with the motions.

“Right this way, Miss Fairweather-Fern,” one of the shop assistants says.

“Please just call me Lia. If you need to add a miss in there, Miss Lia is just fine. Using my whole name is a mouthful.”

The attendant smiles at me and then leads me back to a very large dressing room where a few dresses have been hung, waiting to be tried on. Three very grotesque, ballgown-shaped dresses, three slender silhouette dresses—that look more like nightgowns than anything—and two mermaid-style dresses that look like they have absolutely no give.

“Here is a robe for you,” the assistant says. “Why don’t you get changed out of your clothes and dressed in the robe, and an attendant will come in and assist you?”

“Great. Thank you.” When the door closes, I set my coffee and purse down on the provided table and then slip out of my shirt and pants. I’m not one to be naked in front of strangers, so I wore a pair of boy short underwear that covers up a lot—I’m sure The Beave would be horrified—and my least revealing strapless bra.

I slip on the light pink silk robe, cinch it at the waist, and then I sit down in the chair and stare at the dresses.

I hate them.

All of them.

Too many embellishments.

Too slinky.

Too poofy.

Not enough space in the dress to walk.

They’re nothing I would pick for myself.

I always thought I’d wear something simple with maybe a touch of lace, not these full, fabric-filled dresses that need a crane operator to get it on.

What is supposed to be a fun, once-in-a-lifetime moment has quickly turned into a sad, bleak day that I’m sure will live forever in my mind as a dark memory, right along with the moment I found out my parents passed away.

I rest my head against the wall behind me and bring my coffee to my lips. I just want this to be over. I want it all to be over.

The planning.

The wedding.

The pain.

I want to be transported back to a time when everything is okay with Breaker, and I’m not so alone, but surrounded by loved ones. I want him at my side, telling jokes, making me laugh, and letting me know that no matter what, he’ll always be there for me.

But he’s not.

Not today.

Tears well in my eyes, and I quickly blink them back.

No, don’t cry.

Please don’t cry. Not here, not now.

Not in front of Brian’s mom.

Knock. Knock.

Fuck. I blink the tears back some more and quickly dab at them. Maybe I can pass the watery eyes off as excitement for the dresses. With a heavy heart, I call out, “I’m ready.”

The door opens, and I expect the assistant to walk through, but instead, Breaker steps in, absolutely stealing every ounce of oxygen from my lungs. His eyes connect with mine as he gently shuts the door behind him.

My heart races at the sight of him.

My emotions get the best of me.

And before I can stop myself, I let out a sob and then clutch my hand over my eyes as I cry.

“Shhhh,” he says as he kneels in front of me and presses his hand to my cheek.

I slink down to the floor with him, and I wrap my hands around his waist, sinking into his chest and his comforting embrace.

“I thought . . .” I say through tears. “I thought you . . . you weren’t coming.”

He strokes my hair and holds me tightly. “I would never miss this, Lia.”

“But . . . we haven’t . . . talked.” I pull away to look him in the eyes. He swipes at my tears with his thumbs.

“I thought we needed a second to gather ourselves.” He strokes my cheek. “I didn’t handle things right with you, and I thought that if I gave us a second, I could express what I’ve been feeling rather than blaming you for my problems.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. “I just want to hold you.”

He cups the back of my head as I go in for another hug, clinging to him desperately.

“I can’t lose you, Breaker.”

“You’re not losing me, Lia. Never. I would never let that fucking happen.”

“Promise?” I ask, insecurity so heavy in my voice that I can taste it.

“I promise you,” he says with sincerity.

I sniff and say, “I ran into Birdy at the coffeehouse, and she said she was meeting up with you. I thought . . . I thought you ditched me for her.”

“Never,” he says softly while stroking my hair. “I had to give her some binoculars to practice with for our hike tomorrow.”

“Really?” I ask as I lift to look him in the eyes.

“Yes, really. This is an important day, Lia, of course, I would be here for it.”

“Thank you,” I say softly as another wave of tears hits me.

He stands from the floor and grabs a box of tissues, only to sit back down with me. This time, he leans against my chair and pulls me to his side.

I wipe at my nose, and we just sit there in silence.

He’s here. With me.

The thought rocks me, and once again, I tear up.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks.

“Just grateful you’re here. More grateful than you probably know.”

“No matter what happens between us, Lia, I will always be there for you. Always. Okay?” I nod, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head before saying, “As much as I just want to sit here with you, I have to get back out there. The Beave is already pissed at me because I showed up late, and I don’t want to make her madder.”

“Don’t leave,” I say in a panic. “Help me into these dresses.”

“Uh, don’t you want an attendant to do that?”

I shake my head. “I’m so freaking raw right now, Breaker. I can barely breathe. I need you in here, with me, by my side. Please stay . . .”