But when she glances up at me with her big green eyes filled with so much sadness, it rips the approaching smile off my face. I don’t say anything as I make my way over to the unmade bed, stepping over the pile of discarded clothes, sketches, and my guitar. I sit down beside her. Reaching forward, I sweep strands of her auburn hair out of her eyes and tuck them behind her ear, then trace a line with my finger up and down her cheekbone. I wait for her to speak first, because I don’t know enough about what’s going on in her head to know the right thing to say.

We sit for what feels like forever, staring at each other. Neither of us budges, even when I hear Ethan and Lila walk up to the door; then they leave right away, like they sense that we need to be alone.

“I’m sorry.” Ella finally breaks the silence with a heavy sigh as she peers up at me through her eyelashes, biting her bottom lip.

I fight the urge to shut my eyes against the sting in my heart. “What happened? I thought…” I cup her cheek with my hand. “I thought we both wanted this, Ella May?”

Her bottom lip springs free as she releases it, then lifts her chin off her knees and sits up. “We did… I do… It’s just…” She releases a frustrated breath.

Pressure releases in my chest and confusion takes its place. “I don’t get it… You didn’t show up and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

“I know,” she says softly with wide eyes. “But I couldn’t talk to you until I thought of the right thing to say.”

“Talk to me about what?” I’m nervous and it shows through the crack in my voice.

“About the wedding.” She glances around the room like she’s looking for an escape route, but ultimately her eyes land on me. “I talked to your mom the other day—she called me.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Okay… but what does that have to do with skipping out on our wedding?”

She gives a dishearten sigh. “She asked if we had set a date yet for the wedding yet,” she explains. “I didn’t know you never told her we were just going to get married here, without anyone.”

I tense, my fingers stiffening on her cheek. “Did you tell her we were?”

She shakes her head. “You know I’m a pro at lying.”

I snort a laugh. “Not really, but we can pretend for now.”

She shakes her head again, her lips twitching to smile as she swats my arm. “Stop making jokes. I’m trying to be genuinely serious and honest right now.”

“You, serious and honest?” I question with doubt, smirking amusedly at her. “Really?”

“I know it’s weird.” She pauses, breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale and nearly busting out of the black top of her dress. “I think…” She shifts her weight, tucking her knees underneath her as she kneels up. “It’s just that…” She squirms as she looks at the sunlight sparkling through the window. “I don’t even know how to say this,” she mutters.

I scoot forward on the bed, sliding the bulky material of her dress out of the way so I can get close to her. “Pretty girl, whatever it is, you can say it. You can say anything to me. You know that.”

She turns her head and our gazes fasten. “I know, but it doesn’t make it easier for me to say it… You know it’s hard for me to say how I’m feeling.”

I lace my fingers through hers and stroke the inside of her wrist with my thumb. “I know, but I’m always here for you.” I’m trying to remain calm, but it’s hard. She’s scaring the shit out of me, especially since I have no idea what the hell she’s trying to say.

“And it’s really hard for me to admit what I want sometimes,” she continues, shutting her eyes.

“I know,” I say, smoothing her tangled hair out of her face. “But like I said, you can tell me anything.”

Her eyelids flutter open, her pupils shrinking as they hit the light. “I think… I think we should just…” Her hand shakes in mine as she takes a quivering breath and then the words rush out of her. “I think we should go home and have a normal wedding with our families.” She presses her lips together and holds her breath.

I remain motionless, trying to hold it in, because I know it’s going to piss her off, but eventually it gets to me and laughter slips through. “Oh my God,” I nearly choke on my laugh, wrapping my arm around my stomach as I lean back. “I can’t believe that’s what this is all about.”

“Micha.” She pinches my nipple through my shirt. “Stop. I’m being serious.”

“Oh, I know you are.” I continue to laugh and the longer it goes on the more irritated she looks, until finally she gathers her dress and gets up to leave. I quickly scoot forward, encircle my arms around her waist, and yank her back. She flops back down on the mattress and I enfold my body over hers. She instantly tries to squirm out from under me as I pin her arms to the side of her head.

“It’s not funny,” she protests, working really hard to stay angry with me. “I was trying to tell you how I feel and you laughed at me.”

“I know,” I tell her, stifling my laughter the best I can. “But you’re too fucking adorable for your own good.”

She narrows her eyes. “I’m not adorable and you know it.”

“When you tell me things like you want to have a wedding with our families and are nervous about it, you’re fucking adorable,” I tell her and then lean down and kiss her cheek. “I love you and we can get married wherever, however, and whenever you want, just as long as we get married and you never stand me up again.”

She pouts out her glossy bottom lip. “I’m sorry. I just panicked.”

I lean down and nip at her bottom lip because it’s too delicious-looking to resist. “Next time, please just call me. Or at least send a text.” I kiss her again, then slightly lean away, the heat of our breath mixing together. “A simple SOS or something.”

“Deal,” she says. “But hopefully there won’t be a next time.”

“Take away the hopefully from that sentence.” I kiss her again, sliding my tongue deep into her mouth.

“Deal,” she whispers against my lips, panting from the kiss, and all thoughts of abandonment and fear slip away as we continue to kiss until the sun goes down.

I’m pretty sure it’s the best way to get stood up on my wedding day. If only I could continue to feel that way, but I can’t help but worry about going home. Not because of me. I can handle home and my mom and her dumbass boyfriend. It’s Ella’s family I worry about. Even though things have been decent most of the time, sometimes during her phone conversations with her father or brother, one of them ends up bringing up the past. And that’s the one thing Ella still struggles with, whether she’ll admit it or not.

Acclaim for

Jessica Sorensen

About the Author

The New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Jessica Sorensen lives with her husband and three kids. When she’s not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.

Learn more at:

Jessicasorensenblog.blogspot.com

@jessFallenStar

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