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“If you happen to feel that there’s a metaphor there and that it’s applicable to another set of circumstances in your life, I can’t be held responsible.”
“It’s not applicable,” he said staunchly.
“You never see the discards, Oscar.” I gestured with the camera. “You never see all the shots that weren’t quite right.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Stop.”
“They’re like… well, they’re like ex-boyfriends littering the darkroom floor of your life.”
His laugh got louder, and he shoved my shoulder before stepping away. “You’re a pain in the ass.”
“You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take, Oscar Overton,” I teased. “I just came up with that line. Feel free to put it on a motivational poster.”
He put his fingers in his ear and backed away. “Lalalala. Your metaphors are terrible. One out of ten. Irredeemable.”
“If at first you don’t succeed…” I called after him.
Oscar waved and kept on walking toward the beach, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
Brant walked up, looking with a smile between me and Oscar’s retreating form. “I didn’t realize you had friends in the wedding party. Glad I asked you to come work it with me.”
“I did Wells and Conor’s wedding last year in New York. That’s where I met Oscar and some of the other guys.”
“Oscar’s the ex, right? Or… wait… was he James’s ex or Wells’s ex?”
“Both,” I said without adding that he’d also dated Roman.
We stood together watching Oscar make his way down the beach to where Wells was talking to a woman in a bright blue sundress. Despite the pretty dress fluttering in the breeze, my eyes kept returning to Oscar’s plain salmon-colored shorts and white T-shirt, which probably cost more than my whole wardrobe. Beneath them, I knew he sported faded Speedo tan lines, probably from his weeks in the Maldives or some yacht party he’d been to. It was a reminder that Oscar lived in a world I would never inhabit, and seeing it in the flesh—literally—was far more powerful than any text or snapshot ever could be.
“So, I’m thinking of arranging the wedding party over on the jetty,” Brant said. He stretched out his arm to point out a spot further down the beach, blocking my view of Oscar.
I blinked as the spell I’d been under broke. “Yeah? That sounds amazing. Show me.”
Brant and I tromped off down the beach, planning out shots, and by the time we got back, it was time for Oscar and the rest of the wedding party to get dressed for the main event. I tried not to read anything into the way he didn’t meet my eyes on the beach, or in Roman’s suite, or even during the gorgeous sunset ceremony, but it was difficult not to notice… and not to feel a little hurt by it.
Maybe he’s thinking about things, I told myself. Maybe he’s recognizing the truth of what you’ve been trying to tell him.
But at the reception, when the drinks were flowing and music floated across the soft summer air toward the ocean, I finally glimpsed what was going on in Oscar’s brain.
When it was time for the best man speech, Oscar stood. The twinkle lights hanging around the large white event canopy on the lawn gave his skin a luminous glow that reminded me of watching him at the beach that afternoon.
His knife clinked against the clear glass of his water goblet until the crowd quieted. He looked around the dinner tables filled with guests and smiled. Something about his demeanor wasn’t quite as assured and confident as usual, though I knew he’d given toasts like this a million times.
He swallowed and began. “I had a whole speech prepared. Some of you may not know this, but I’ve given best man speeches a time or two before.”
Several men chuckled under their breath while Roman’s eyes danced with humor. “Always hire the most experienced man for the job,” he called out. “That’s just good business.”
Oscar laughed, which relaxed his entire body. I felt my own breath release.
“True, Roman. True.” He looked around at the expectant faces, several of them pink from slight sunburns from earlier in the day, but his gaze skipped over me. “Every time I’m invited to be the best man, my first thought is how incredibly honored I am. My second thought is usually: what the hell am I going to say that I haven’t already said? Despite the many times I’ve asked, not one groom has said it would be okay for me to reuse a best man speech. Shame that. I’ve given some real doozies over the years.”
He paused as the crowd laughed. “Thankfully, a recent conversation with a dear friend helped give me a new angle on love and marriage.” He looked down at his champagne flute for a moment, his expression turning somber.
“Sometimes we don’t know why things work—they just do. If you’d told me that my serious, responsible friend Roman would hijack a horse-drawn carriage on Park Avenue just to pick up the hottie behind the reins…” The crowd laughed again. “I would have asked you how many drinks you’d had tonight. But sometimes the unexpected happens. Sometimes you need to roll with it.”
His eyes skipped to mine for the briefest flash of a moment, and my heart skidded in my chest.
“Sometimes you need to keep trying, keep putting yourself out there. Because some people are simply meant to fall in love, and you never know when the lightning bolt will strike. And maybe, just maybe, magic will happen when you least expect it. I’m thrilled that the magic happened for Roman and Scotty and that we’re all here tonight to help them celebrate it. To the happy couple!”
