Page 46 of Yours to Keep

Her frown deepened in obvious confusion, but she finally glanced down at the screen, reading the text waiting for her on it. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know.”

“Sullivan.” She looked up at me, her eyes sharp now and wider, her cheeks paling as she shook her head. “This is not funny.”

“I know,” I repeated, taking a page out of Bree’s book and making my voice a little gentler. “I know it’s not funny, Lee. But it is true. Neil is not on his way here, he’s not coming, and you’re not getting married today.”

I spelled it all out for her, slowly enough that I hoped she was able to hear me and understand what I was saying. God, what am I even thinking? I don’t even understand this and I don’t even fucking like the guy.

She shook her head, a slightly hysterical little laugh breaking loose. “Okay. Okay. He’s panicking. He’s just being dramatic. He always does this right before the big stuff.”

“He’s not in the church,” I said.

Her head shook again. “He’s probably outside.”

“He’s not,” I said firmly. “When I passed through the lobby on my way up, I looked out the window. He’s not there.”

She stared at me like I’d just spoken in Swahili, her voice finally wobbling a little as her shoulders fell. “No. No. He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t. He loves me, Sullivan.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Her face crumpled so fast, it knocked the air out of my lungs. “No, but… no. Why? He wouldn’t send this to you. He’d tell me. He promised he’d never blindside me.”

“I know,” I said uselessly. “I know, Leelah, but he did it anyway.”

Her hands started shaking when I used the nickname. Her friends had called her that when they’d been in kindergarten and some of them hadn’t been able to pronounce her name yet. I never used it unless I was really trying to be gentle. To remind her of who she was and where she came from.

Blinking rapidly, she started pacing. Once. Twice. Then she came racing back to me. “I need to talk to him, Sull. Call him.”

“I tried. Earlier, I tried.”

“Call him again.”

I nodded, putting the phone on speaker, but it went straight to voicemail. Her breaths started coming faster. “Okay. Okay. So he’s just… gone?”

I didn’t answer, but I did catch when she started dropping like her legs had given out. Crushing her to me, I led her over to a chair and lowered her carefully into it. Her hands came up to her face immediately, and then she was sobbing, the sounds loud, broken, uncontained.

“I did everything right,” she cried. “I did everything right. I didn’t push. I didn’t rush him. I waited. Every time he let me down, I smiled. I made excuses for him.”

I knelt in front of her, pulling her half into my arms. She clutched my jacket like it was the only thing keeping her upright. “I don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to do now, Sull? There’s a whole congregation full of people down there… a reception…”

I’d never felt more useless in my entire life, because now that she needed me most, I had no answer. My whole life was built on fixing things. On stepping in, figuring it out, and making the problem go away.

Today, there was nothing to punch. No one to threaten. No lever to pull. No machine or treatment to be invented. No amount of money to make her pain go away.

“I’m going to kill him,” I said into her hair.

She let out a wet laugh that turned back into a sob. “You can’t go to prison on my wedding day.”

“I can multitask. At least I’d finally have time to read again.”

She cried harder until a soft knock came at the door. I looked up, my gaze probably wild and furious, ready to tear someone apart, but it was Bree who poked her head in.

“Oh,” she said quietly. “I… I can come back.”

“No,” Liana choked out. “Please don’t go.”

Bree glanced at me, questions dancing her eyes as she stepped into the room and closed the door gently behind her, but she didn’t voice a single one of them. She just took one look at my sister’s face, then at mine, and then something in her expression shifted.