Wedding Wishes (Wedding Season Series) Read online

  I welcome the burn like an old friend. Then I slam the glass back on the counter, my eyes squeezed shut, my jaw tight as I try to forget the last three years of my life.

  It would have been so much easier if the press would just back off. Even here in Spain, I’ve come across several tabloid magazines featuring articles covering Ellie and me.

  It’s times like these, I wish people didn’t know who I am. Sometimes, it sucks being a LaClaire.

  I wish I could return to St. Louis to shield Ellie from the vultures, but it would only make things harder for both of us. So I do what I can from a distance.

  I warned the press to back off, to stay out of her life, but the story is just too good for them to keep their hands off.

  They have returned to calling me a womanizer. Apparently, many people are not surprised that I have called off the wedding. A tiger can never change its stripes, they say. Fuck them. They all pretend to know me, but they don’t.

  I refused to do any interviews, to give them more ammunition than they already have. I’m quite surprised they haven’t figured out where I am.

  I ask for another glass of whiskey. José throws me a disapproving look, but gives me what I need.

  I’m just about to take another swig when my phone rings. It’s Lance, one of my four brothers. They have all been calling me every damn day, leaving messages I don’t read or listen to. They want to know what happened between me and Ellie. They had all been looking forward to the wedding, but there won’t be one...ever.

  This time as well, I don’t pick up or call back.

  I escaped to Madrid because I want to be left the fuck alone, to come to terms with my new reality.

  “Here you are,” a familiar female voice says from behind me.

  I turn as though in slow motion, my head swimming, my temples throbbing.

  “Beverley?” My mouth goes dry. “What are you doing here? How did you even know where I am?” Annoyance wells up inside my throat.

  Beverley is my personal assistant. I left St. Louis without telling her where I was going.

  She looks different wearing a tight navy dress that reaches above the knee, instead of her usual business suits. She’s a knockout, but I’m not interested.

  She takes a seat on the stool next to mine and turns to me with a smile. “You should know by now that I’m good at tracking people down. I happen to be good at my job. That’s why you hired me.” She glances at the bartender with the same bright smile. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

  There’s silence between us until she receives her drink and takes her first sip. Then she puts the glass down and studies me through narrowed eyes. “You look wasted.”

  “Is that any way to talk to your boss?” I ask, reaching for my drink. She waits until I drain it before continuing.

  “I’m not here as your assistant, Caleb. I’m here as a friend. I’m worried about you.”

  “I came here because I wanted to be alone.” I tighten my hand around my empty glass. “That’s why I didn’t tell you where I was going.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry about you and Ellie.”

  “Yeah,” I shrug. “So am I.”

  “May I ask what happened?”

  “Life happened.” I slide my glass toward José. “One more.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Beverley says. “You look like you should have stopped drinking several rounds ago.”

  I glare at her and try to say something, but I don’t. She’s right. Maybe it’s time to call it a night.

  “Forget it, José. I’m going to bed.” I rest my palms on the counter. “Bev, you should go back to St. Louis. Feel free to take time off until I get back.”

  I push back my stool, but when I attempt to stand, my world starts to spin at such a fast rate that I’m unable to remain upright. I lean against the counter, my hands clutching the edge.

  “Do you need help, sir?” I hear José’s voice from a distance. The rush in my ears is drowning out most sounds in the room, the music, the laughter, and the sound coming from the TV behind José.

  “I’m fine,” I croak.

  “You’re far from fine,” Beverley gets off her stool and comes near me, but I take a step back.

  “I don’t need you here, Bev.”

  I push away from the counter and move forward, stumbling through the booze-tainted air that bursts from my lungs.

  In the state I’m in, it’s a miracle that I make it to my suite. But I do. It’s a struggle for me to open the door, but I somehow manage, then sway into the room, collapsing on the massive bed.

  I fall asleep immediately, still fully clothed. I wake up again not long after. I’m not alone.

  Before my eyes even clear, the scent of musk and flowers lets me know immediately who the woman next to me is.

  I swallow the sour taste in my mouth. “Beverley,” I say, my tongue sticking to my palate. “What—”

  “It’s all right,” she whispers, getting on top of me, straddling me, attempting to open the top button of my shirt. “Just relax.”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Suddenly awake, I grab her by the waist and lift her off me. “How did you get into my room?”

  “You forgot to close the door.” She places her hand on my cheek. “I wanted to check up on you, to see if you’re okay.”

  I push her hand away. “I’m your boss, Beverley.” I push my pain and discomfort to the back of my mind and sit up in bed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I need you to go. Now.”

  “But why? I just want to make you feel better.” She slides the elastic band from around her honey-colored hair and the locks fall around her shoulders. “You’re obviously hurting. Let me make you feel better. Let me in, Caleb.”

  “No.” My voice is firm.

  “I don’t get it.” Her face crumples. “You’re no longer together with Ellie. You’re single again. You can do whatever it is you want.” She bites her lower lip. “I’ve always had a crush on you, you know. I waited so long for you to like me. I never thought I’d get the chance to tell you how I feel. But now you’re free and I don’t want to waste this moment. I want you to know how I feel, Caleb LaClaire. Let me show you.”

  ELLIE

  I should go away. I should stop doing this to myself. I should stop coming here. But I can’t get myself to move away from the floor-to-ceiling window of the Blush wedding boutique, the shop that houses the dress I had intended to wear at my wedding, a wedding that will no longer happen.

  I was here three days ago to return the dress, but I keep coming back.

  I now stare through the window for so long that one of the shop assistants meets my gaze and comes outside, the bell ringing as she crosses the threshold.

  “Is there anything you need help with?” I’ve been here several times, but I’ve never seen the older woman before. She must be new. “Are you a bride-to-be?”

  I shake my head and extend her a smile that means nothing. “No, I’m not. I’m not getting married. I was just looking. I must go.”

  I draw my purse closer to my body and walk away, never looking back. There’s no point in dwelling on what could have been.

  I need to move on, to stop wishing things were different.

  It’s over.

  If Caleb was ever going to come back to me, he would have done so by now.

  It’s been two weeks and I have heard nothing from him. Dealing with his departure is even more painful for Justin, who found out about our breakup—the day I was going to tell him—through a tabloid magazine. That day, he went back to being the boy he was before Caleb came along, bitter and withdrawn, uncommunicative.

  Now he has been living like a zombie in our home. The only time he shows any signs of life is when he throws tantrums every morning before he goes to school. I really thought this painful phase of our lives was behind us.

  Caleb had made everything better. He had given us happiness, and then he took it all away, leaving everything to ret
urn to the way it used to be.

  I walk down the street aimlessly, unsure where to go next. It’s almost midday and I know I should return home to get back to work.

  My editor has been expecting an article from me for the past three days and I have not been able to deliver. Every time I sit down at my computer, I end up reading articles about the breakup of my relationship.

  The press followed me around the first few days after Caleb left, with reporters begging for an exclusive interview, but I refused until they lost interest. They want answers that I, myself, don’t have.

  As I get into my car and rest my forehead against the steering wheel, I start to think that maybe what happened is for the best. Caleb and I are from two completely different worlds. I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life in the spotlight. I’ve never been that kind of person, but I was willing to sacrifice my privacy for Caleb.

  I lift my head, take a breath and start the car. My heart is breaking as I drive into my empty future.

  Just as I’m about to approach a traffic light, my phone rings. It’s Cindy. She sounds worried.

  “Is everything okay?” The first thing that comes to my mind is that something happened to Justin. That’s how I live my life, always on the edge of fear in case he gets hurt. But Cindy can’t know if anything happened to Justin because he is in school, after an hour of me pleading with him to go. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to force him. We might have to return to homeschooling until he gets back to himself.

  “The question is, are you okay?” Cindy asks.

  “Yeah. I try to be.” I frown. Something about the way she asked is strange. “Why are you asking?”

  The silence on the other end instantly tells me that something has happened, maybe not to Justin, but something is wrong.

  “No, it’s nothing. I was just checking up on you, that’s all.”

  “You’re lying.” I grip the wheel tighter. “Does this have something to do with Caleb?”

  Cindy has never been a good liar. Every time she’s not telling the truth, her voice deepens slightly. After knowing her for years, I can read her like a book.

  “Where are you?” she asks. “Are you driving?”

  “Yes. I’m headed home.”

  “Good. I’m on my lunch break. I’ll meet you there.”

  I drive home in a daze, and ten minutes after I enter my home, Cindy walks through the door. She has a key for emergencies.

  “What’s going on?” I pull her down onto the couch. “What aren’t you telling me? You’re making me nervous. Whatever it is, just say it.”

  “I was actually worried you would have seen it by now.”

  “What is it, Cindy?” I have searched my mind for all kinds of things that could’ve happened with Caleb. “I can handle it,” I say, which is a lie. I’ve been unable to handle a lot of things lately.

  When I got home it was hard not to go online to see if there was any news about him, but from the way Cindy had spoken, I worried that it might be something serious and I might not be able to deal with it on my own. So, I waited for her.

  “Okay.” Cindy pushes her hand into her handbag and pulls out a glossy magazine.

  My stomach turns before I even see the cover.

  “I’m so sorry, Ellie.” She places the magazine in my lap.

  I bite hard into my lip and lower my gaze to it. My eyes meet those of the man I had planned on spending the rest of my life with, the man I still love and miss so dearly. But on the cover is a smaller, thumb-sized image of another woman. It’s a woman I know quite well, his assistant, Beverley Corbin.

  I feel sick to my stomach as I read the headline.

  LaClaire bad boy is back in the game...

  The less painful thing to do at this point would be to give the magazine back to Cindy, but I can’t. My fingers are working on their own, flipping through the pages until they find the story that is meant to break my heart.

  “Are you okay?” Cindy asks, placing a hand on my shoulder, but I don’t answer. I can’t find the words for what I feel right now, especially when I see a photo of Caleb kissing Beverley. They’re in bed together, the sheets up to their necks. His eyes are closed as he enjoys the moment. Apparently the photo, which looks like a selfie, was taken a week ago.

  I swallow down some of the pain as I close the magazine. My hands are trembling when I give it back to Cindy. “It’s over.” The words feel heavy as they leave my lips. “He’s gone.”

  I try not to cry, but I fail. For the first time since he left, I truly grieve him. I always kind of held back before. Maybe deep down I held on to the hope that he might return, but now that I’ve been replaced, there’s no going back.

  I’m sitting on the edge of Justin’s bed, watching him staring up at the ceiling, his eyes blank, his face tight. Even though it was Caleb who left, I have a feeling that Justin is angry with me. I guess he has no choice because I’m the only person around. I’m the one to take the blame.

  “I know you miss Caleb, baby.” I place a hand on his forehead, brushing back his black hair. “I do too, but we cannot force him to be in our lives.”

  Justin is quiet. I don’t remember the last time I heard him say a full sentence to me. He groans and sighs, and screams, but he barely speaks. If he does, it’s no more than a few broken words.

  My stomach twists at the thought that he might never return to his happy place.

  “Okay,” I say, defeated. “You can stay home today. But tomorrow, you have to go back to school. We have to continue living our lives.”

  When he says nothing, I rise from the bed and drag myself to the door, looking away so Justin doesn’t see my tears. But before I can touch the handle, he speaks.

  I turn around slowly, holding my breath. “What did you say, baby?” I don’t even care about the tears anymore. My son spoke to me.

  “Do something,” he says, his voice so low I can barely hear it. He’s still staring at the ceiling.

  I go back to sit next to him, my leg touching the expensive electric wheelchair Caleb bought him two years ago.

  “I wish there were something I could do.” I run a hand through my hair. “But there isn’t.”

  It’s too late. Caleb has moved on with another woman. I can never get him back.

  “Call him, mom,” Justin says. “Please.”

  “Okay,” I say after a long silence.

  If calling Caleb would help Justin in any way, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for my son. Even if Caleb doesn’t want to take me back, maybe he can reach out to Justin and give him a proper goodbye, give him some kind of closure.

  Justin closes his eyes and a few seconds later his hand dangles from the edge of the bed, his atrophied fingers looking lifeless. But I know there’s a lot of strength in him. Even though his body has been weakened by SMA, he’s still the strongest boy I know. He’s stronger than I could ever be.

  When five minutes go by and Justin doesn’t open his eyes, I know I’m dismissed. I walk out of his room to give him the space he needs.

  I don’t find the courage to call Caleb until late at night when Justin is sitting in front of the TV, watching one of his science fiction movies.

  After watching with him for a few moments, I pick up my phone on the coffee table and go to my room, closing the door softly behind me.

  I dial Caleb’s number, but no one picks up. I’m tempted to give up, to tell Justin that Caleb refuses to speak to me, but then I remember the pain on my son’s face. I have to try harder for him, if not for myself. He needs closure before he can move on.

  I dial again, but this time, I call Lance, his brother. Since Caleb called off the wedding, Lance and his other brothers and even their wives had been trying to reach me, but I couldn’t get myself to speak to them.

  I was not ready to say goodbye to them all. It was less painful to ignore their calls, so I did. But I did get several emails from Jia, Lance’s wife. She threatened that if I didn’t respond, she’d fly to St. Louis to co
me and see me. So I wrote back. I told her I was fine, but I needed some time alone. I promised I’d get in touch. I never got in touch with any of them. Until now.

  Lance picks up on the first ring as though he had been expecting my call.

  “Ellie,” he says, his voice warm, but also painful to listen to because he sounds so much like Caleb. “I’m so happy you called. How are you holding up?”

  “I’m not really sure,” I say honestly. “Some days are better than others.”

  “I’m terribly sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into my brother. I don’t know why he became a jerk all of a sudden. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m coping, Lance. But Justin is not. I just... He really misses Caleb.” I press the heel of my hand against my forehead. “The worst is that Caleb just left without an explanation. Maybe if I knew what happened, it would be easier.”

  “I’m afraid he didn’t give us much of an explanation either. He refuses to answer our calls. I guess he knows we want to kick his ass. What he did to you is rotten.”

  “Thank you.” My heart shrinks inside my chest. He has always been so kind to me. I was really looking forward to becoming his sister-in-law.

  “Ellie, you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. He’s a fool to let you go.” Lance pauses. “We all agreed to give him a chance to come out of his hiding place, but you deserve an explanation, you and Justin. I’ll track him down for you.”

  “I’d really appreciate that. I just want him to speak to Justin, to explain.” I don’t even care if he doesn’t talk to me.

  “Don’t worry, Ellie. I’ll give you a call when I know more. But no matter what happens between you and Caleb, we care about you. We will continue to support you in every way we can.”

  “Thank you,” I say, but I know that once I have closure, I won’t keep in touch with them. As much as they want to continue being a part of my life, there’s no way it would work. It would be too painful.

  It doesn’t take long for Lance to call me back.

  “I found him. He’s at our family villa in Cabo. I’ll fly there in two days. You’re welcome to join me. Since he refuses to answer calls, you might want to confront him face to face.”