Wedding Wishes (Wedding Season Series) Read online

  Copyright © 2019 by Dori Lavelle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  More Wedding Season Short Stories

  Also by Dori Lavelle

  ELLIE

  Caleb is deep inside me and my arms are tight around his sweat-coated body.

  I can feel all of him, but at the same time I feel as though he’s not here at all. Something is different.

  My hands are buried inside his hair, my lips hard against his, our breaths warming each other’s faces.

  I hold on tighter, pull him deeper. Am I afraid he might slip away?

  I move my lips to his ear. “I love you,” I whisper. “I love you so much.”

  Instead of responding, he only grunts and picks up speed.

  Tears spring to my eyes. They slide down the sides of my face.

  I don’t know why I’m crying. Nothing is wrong, not really. Although Caleb has been distant for a few weeks now, I know he still loves me. He still wants to marry me.

  In three short months, I’ll be Mrs. Ellie LaClaire.

  The only problem is, Caleb has hardly been involved in the wedding planning, not anymore. At the start of our engagement, he was all there. He helped me choose the invitations, the cake, and even the flowers. He accompanied me to almost every meeting I had with the wedding planner. When he wasn’t traveling, he wanted to be a part of everything that contributed to our special day.

  But two or three weeks ago, something changed. He missed most of the appointments with the wedding planner, and anything else that has to do with the wedding. He uses work as an excuse. I know he’s busy purchasing a new resort in Mexico, but he has always been busy and he still found the time.

  He reaches his climax first, but he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t collapse on top of me. He waits until I also come. He has always been a generous lover, making sure I enjoy our lovemaking as much as he does. This time is no different, but I sense something missing.

  We lay side-by-side, our chests rising and falling as we catch our breaths, I wonder what he’s thinking. What’s going on inside his mind.

  “Talk to me,” I whisper, a lump blocking my throat. “Talk to me, Caleb. I have a feeling that something is wrong. You’ve barely said a word tonight.”

  He’s been in Mexico for a week and returned an hour ago, just in time to have dinner with me and Justin. He didn’t say much during the meal either, except to ask Justin how school was.

  The silence that follows confirms my worst fears. Maybe he’s having cold feet and is afraid to tell me. Whatever it is, I need to know so I can deal with it.

  “Baby, something is going on with you. I need to know what it is.” I place a hand on his cheek, rubbing my palm against his five o’clock shadow. I wait patiently for him to respond.

  “You’re right.” First he puts his own hand on top of mine and then he moves away, sliding to the edge of the bed, sitting ramrod straight, staring into nothingness. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

  My chest tightens for a moment. I don’t speak. I’m afraid to ask what he means. I won’t jump to conclusions, in case there’s a chance my deepest fears are unfounded.

  He glances back at me. His face is blank, so are his usually bright moss-green eyes that have a way to reach into my soul. Normally, when our eyes meet, my heart rate speeds up. Now is no exception, but this time, it’s fueled by fear.

  “I’m so sorry, baby.” He lies back down next to me and sweeps my damp, black hair from my forehead, then he drapes his arm around me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  I shift a few inches away from him so I can see his face. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to do just that?” I chew a corner of my lip.

  “I love you. You have to believe that.” He clears his throat. “But I can’t get married. I can’t go through with it.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Sour bile pools into the back of my throat. I move away from him, my heart thumping. “Please tell me you’re joking. Caleb, we’re getting married in three months, and you tell me now that you have cold feet?”

  “I’m sorry.” He tries to reach for me, but I shrink away, too bruised by his words. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I can’t do it.”

  My head spinning, I stumble from the bed to the window, still naked. The soft night breeze caresses my heated skin and sweeps through my long, black hair. I wish it could transport me away from this moment.

  I take several deep breaths, then I turn on him, my cheeks burning with rage. “How could you do this, Caleb? Why?”

  He drops his head, and his chin hits his muscular chest. “Because you deserve someone who can give you more than I have to give.”

  In an instant, I remember everything he has given me since he walked into my life. I remember the love, the support, the laughter, the passion. The person in front of me, cannot be him. I need to find the man I love.

  I ignore the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and put one foot in front of the other until I reach the bed, until I’m standing in front of him. As I sit next to him and pull him into my arms, fear rears its head. What if I can’t save us?

  I refuse to believe that I’m about to lose him. I put my arms around him and bury my face into his shoulder. My tears threaten to fall, but I blink them away. I won’t cry because it’s not over.

  “Caleb,” I say, my voice shaking, “don’t ever say that. Don’t tell me you have nothing to give me. You have given me more than anyone ever has.”

  “But I can’t be the husband you expect me to be.” He blows out a breath. “I’m so sorry.” He presses his lips against my cheek and gently peels my arms from around his body. Then he gets up.

  A sudden wave of anger sweeps through me like a volcano. “That’s it? That’s the only explanation you have for breaking off our wedding?”

  He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. When he looks at me again, I see sadness. “One day you will know why I have to do this, but not tonight.” He peels his gaze from mine and picks up his polo shirt from the floor, where he had tossed it an hour ago. “This is for the best. I have to go.”

  Too paralyzed by his words, I say nothing until he finishes getting dressed and walks out of the room, leaving behind only the scent of his pine and citrus cologne and the memories we made in the last three years.

  I remain on my messed-up bed, my entire body numb, my head spinning, my mouth dry with shock. I want to get up, to run after him, to stop him, but I don’t find the energy until I hear the front door closing.

  An hour goes by, and I’m still too shocked to even cry. How did this happen? How is it possible that one moment I was going to get married to the man I love, only to lose him in the blink of an eye? How could I have read him so wrong? I believed in us. I believed he loved me. Now this?

  When life returns to my body, I throw myself back against the pillows, and stare at the ceiling for God knows how long. Time does not matter, not anymore. Three years together, and now it’s all over.

  It’s a good thing I never moved in with him when he
asked me to a year ago. I had wanted to give Justin as much time as he needed to embrace the idea of moving into a new home and a new life. It’s the reason why I also wanted a long engagement.

  When I hear Justin calling me, as he sometimes does when he’s unable to sleep, I stand up like a zombie and cover my naked body with a bathrobe. Then I head to my thirteen-year-old disabled son’s room. It’s just the two of us again.

  I stand at the door for a moment as I have done since he was a baby, trying not to think about how he would react when I tell him about Caleb. I know without a doubt that he will be shattered.

  I suck in a breath and open the door. The room is dark except for a few glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. Before I flick on the light, I hear him snoring softly. He didn’t call me. He’s fast asleep.

  I had imagined it. Just like I had imagined that I had found my fairytale with Caleb LaClaire. In truth, I was only living in a fantasy. The clock has struck midnight. It’s time to return to the real world.

  “You’re kidding,” Cindy, my best friend and neighbor, shakes her head, her wild curls swinging. “He really called off the wedding? Just like that?”

  As soon as the sun came up, I went to her place. To stop myself from going crazy, I needed to talk to someone.

  “Yep.” I sink onto her cream leather sofa and drop my head into my hands. “First, he made love to me, then he told me the wedding is off. We’re over.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Cindy joins me on the sofa. “What happened?”

  I shrug and look back up, my vision blurry. “I wish I knew. I guess I was not meant to be happy after all. Happiness is reserved for other people.”

  “That’s rubbish,” Cindy scolds. “There’s no one who deserves to be happy more than you.”

  “I don’t know what else to think.” I rub my eyes. “First, my husband commits suicide because he can’t handle life with me and my son, then the man I thought is the one runs off with no explanation.” I push my hands into my tangled hair. “I thought it was real, Cindy.”

  What hurts the most is that I brought him into my life. I introduced him to my son. I would never have done that if I had any doubts that he was the real thing.

  “I thought so too, sweetie. He seemed genuinely in love with you.” Cindy hugs me, then pulls away. “There has to be some kind of explanation. I think you should demand one.”

  “I don’t know if I can handle being rejected again. I can’t force him to be in my life.” I slump forward, the weight of my sadness pressing me down. “If he doesn’t want me anymore, there’s nothing I can do.”

  I hardly slept all night, thinking of living my life without Caleb. I still haven’t shed any tears, but my heart is in pieces. This morning, when Justin asked where Caleb was, I lied. I told him he had to leave early for a meeting. I couldn’t find the courage to tell him that he has bowed out of our lives for good.

  “I just don’t understand.” Cindy presses her hands to her freckled cheeks. “If he doesn’t want you anymore, why did he come over last night? Why did he make love to you?”

  I swallow down the tears that suddenly flood my throat. “I don’t understand it either. But there were signs and I chose to ignore them. In the past couple of weeks, I knew something was off. He was different.” I knead my shoulder. “We hardly spent time together because he was always traveling, and when we were together, we hardly spoke. The only thing we did was have sex.”

  “I’m so sorry, honey.” Cindy draws me into her arms again and cradles the back of my head with her hand. “It’s his loss.”

  Her lavender-scented perfume comforts me like a warm blanket in the dead of winter. But the comfort only lasts until she pulls away. “What will you do?” she asks.

  “I will focus on Justin. He’s the only constant person in my life.”

  “And me.” Cindy takes my hand and squeezes it. “You will always have me.”

  “Yes, but you will have your own life once you become Huan’s wife.” I place both my hands on her cheeks and force a smile. “When you move to China, I want you to focus on being happy. Don’t waste your time worrying about me. One of us should have what they want.”

  Cindy has been engaged to Huan Liu for six months now. They met seven months before that, when she attended a meditation retreat in Beijing.

  She returned to St. Louis glowing with love. She could not stop talking about the handsome businessman she sat next to on the flight to China. I was surprised, but also delighted, when she went on to say that by the time the airplane landed in Beijing, they were pretty much a couple. They were so in love that she only attended three out of the seven meditation sessions so she could spend more time with him.

  “I’ll visit as often as I can,” Cindy says. “But you know what? I don’t think it’s over between you and Caleb. I’m sure it’s just a case of cold feet, and it happens to many people. He will soon realize that he made a big mistake.”

  “What if he doesn’t? What if marriage is not for him? Don’t forget that he was a womanizer before I met him.”

  “I know, but people change when they meet the right person.” Cindy sighs. “Did you try calling him?” She reaches for the pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice that’s sitting on the coffee table and pours some into a glass.

  “I did, but only once, an hour ago. The call went to voicemail. I won’t call again.” I rub my tired eyes. “I’m not the kind of woman who chases after a man who doesn’t want her.” I pause. “But it hurts like hell. And I still don’t know how I’m going to tell Justin.”

  “Sweetie, Justin is old enough to understand that relationships don’t always last. He’s so much stronger than you think. I know he loved Caleb, but if he doesn’t come back, Justin will eventually adjust to a life without him.”

  “He was so excited about the wedding, and so proud that Caleb was going to be his new dad.” Tears spring to my eyes now, breaking through my barriers. This time, I allow myself to cry for the man I never thought I could have in the first place. Cindy holds me until I have no tears left, and my body stops trembling.

  Feeling better after a good cry, I rise to my feet, smooth down my wrinkled t-shirt, and give Cindy a sad smile. “I have to drive Justin to school. You should go to work.” Cindy is a physical therapist who works at a small clinic in the center of town. Sometimes, she also takes on private patients, like Justin.

  “I’ll come over later, okay?” Cindy comes to kiss my cheek.

  I nod. “I’ll be fine. Seriously, don’t worry about me while you’re at work. I’ve handled much worse.” When I was told that Justin has type 2 spinal muscular atrophy, and when my husband—Justin’s father—took his life, the pain was so great that I was sure I would never experience anything like it again. But the pain I feel after losing Caleb is almost just as overwhelming.

  “Just promise me one thing, Ellie,” Cindy says. “Don’t give up on him so soon. Caleb, I mean. Try to reach out to him again. I really think he loves you. He couldn’t have fooled both of us.”

  I don’t give Cindy my promise because I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it.

  Not long after I return to my apartment to start working on another article for the Moms at Home Magazine, the doorbell rings. It’s Coby, the mailman, with a letter for me.

  My heart stutters when I recognize Caleb’s handwriting.

  Since our relationship began with letters sent through a matchmaking service, I’m very familiar with his handwriting.

  As soon as Coby leaves, I rip open the envelope.

  Dear Ellie,

  I am sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry for calling off our wedding, for walking away.

  As much as I love you, I’m incapable of giving you the kind of life that I want you to have. A life with me would only bring you pain.

  Please beg Justin to forgive me.

  I’ll continue to pay all his medical expenses and everything else he needs. I may no longer be in your lives, but I’m here if you need a
nything.

  Ellie, I don’t know what else to say to make this less painful. Please know that leaving you wasn’t easy for me either, but your life will be so much better without me in it. One day, you’ll understand why I had to go.

  I love you always.

  Caleb

  P.S. My assistant will handle all the wedding cancellations.

  CALEB

  “Give me something strong,” I tell the bartender at the Orchard Hotel bar in Madrid. “Anything.”

  I really don’t care what I drink at this point as long as it numbs the pain inside. It’s been a week since I called things off with Ellie and it’s not getting easier or less painful. I knew from the start that forgetting her would be hard, but I never thought it would be this excruciating.

  “Are you sure, sir?” The bartender asks, pushing a dish towel into a slim glass. “You already had—”

  “Give me the fucking drink,” I say, my teeth clenched. Then I inhale sharply, pulling myself together. “Sorry about that.” It’s not his fault that I’m like this. He’s only trying to help. He can clearly see that I’m a mess.

  Behind him, in the long horizontal mirror that runs the length of the wall, I meet my bloodshot gaze and my chest tightens.

  Drinking hard liquor almost every night has certainly taken its toll. But there’s no other way for me to cope, no way to prevent me from going crazy with longing for Ellie, from missing Justin so much it hurts.

  But I can’t go back to them, so I have to keep moving forward even in a drunken haze. If I don’t drink, my demons will swallow me whole.

  “Don’t worry about it.” The bartender, whose name is José, a man with tattoos covering at least seventy percent of his body, places another glass of whiskey in front of me. I wrap my hands around it only for a few seconds before lifting it to my lips and pouring its contents down my aching throat.