Page 11 of Wedding Wrecker

“I’m happy playing the field. What about Madison though? She’s only twenty. Is that Kyle guy really a good choice? Is he some kind of fortune hunter? Guys rarely want to marry so young.” Maybe it’s not too late to get my cousin out of a marriage to a cheater. Whatever I might think about Madison, she doesn’t deserve the heartbreak coming her way.

Aunt Patty rolls her eyes. “You know my daughter. She always gets her way, and she’s literally been planning her wedding since she was a little girl. Even had a favorite dress designer, from one of those reality shows. And what Madison wants, daddy will get,” she says with a visible shudder and drinks a large sip from her glass. “As for Kyle, he seems harmless enough. A nice boy, well-behaved. Jacob made him sign a prenup, so when they inevitably split, she will be safe.”

“At least that much,” I mutter with a grim expression. I don’t even see the ‘happy couple’ around anymore.

“I’ve seen Kayla was invited as well. She’s divorced, you know? All that trouble to marry a woman, and then they break up anyway. The gays don’t have it all figured out either.”

That piques my attention, but while I expected to feel glee at Kayla’s romantic misfortune, I only feel sorry for her.

“Oh. Do you know what happened?”

Aunt Patty shakes her head. “No, I only heard from her mother. And what kind of name is ‘Garland’ anyway?” She sneers and downs her drink.

I realize this conversation will be going into the gutter in a matter of seconds so I need to run for the hills.

“I think I might have to question my almost-wife myself. You know, for future reference.”

Aunt Patty waves me off and finishes her drink on the way back to the bar.

The pianist starts a peaceful, jazz piece as I drift alongside the pool, passing couples and groups of people engaged in meaningless chatter. I grab an extra drink from a waiter on the way. My heart still hurts when I think back to the pain and humiliation Kayla put me through, but it was a long time ago, and now that I know why she’s here on her own, the bit of schadenfreude I’m feeling makes approaching her easier.

“Hey,” I say, standing next to her, and she looks up, startled.

“Um, hello.”

“Drink?” I ask, showing off the extra glass as I decide to sit down next to her.

I’m done being a coward about this. I’ve avoided talking to her for five years, so maybe it’s time to rip off that band-aid and check if the wound is healed.

“Thanks,” she says, moving her bare feet in the water. She’s paler than she used to be, as if she’s been purposefully avoiding the sun. The glow of the little lamps under the water amplifies the creamy shade of her skin and the blood-red of her toenails.

I have more alcohol for courage, but this is a conversation long overdue. “I didn’t mean to ignore you at dinner. I just wasn’t expecting you there, so I may have freaked out a little,” I say, sitting next to her, cross-legged.

She seems taken aback, but nods and has a sip of champagne. “No, that’s understandable. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by your presence. You are Madison’s cousin. I… when we last saw each other, I didn’t leave you with the best impression.”

Understatement of the century, but the tension in her shoulders tells me she’s as nervous as me.

I give her a once-over, hoping to break the ice. “You’re definitely making an impression now. You really committed to the whole vintage look.”

She rolls her eyes, but her red lips quirk into a smile. “I’m still gay, Logan.”

I laugh, surprised myself that it’s possible in her presence. Maybe I shouldn’t have avoided her. Maybe the wound’s been healed for longer than I thought and I just never checked.

“I know, but I’m allowed to notice, right? I heard you broke another heart. A true noir femme fatale.”

“Oh God, someone already told you,” she mutters and drinks half of her champagne at once before glancing at me. “I’m afraid this time it was my heart that was broken.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Look at you. Who was insane enough to leave all that?”

It’s strange. It’s like we’re best friends again, and I slip into it seamlessly, as if I were putting on a comfy pair of boots.

Kayla snorts and shakes her head. “And she cheated on me as well. With three different women. I only found out later, as I was going down that rabbit hole. Guess a pair of seamed stockings isn’t enough to keep a wife.”

I don’t even feel weird about stroking her arm. “I’m so sorry.”

Kayla shrugs. “I guess the energy you give really can return to you. But I appreciate that you, of all people, say that.”

I stare into our blurry reflection in the water. “There was a time I wished you all the worst things. It was the humiliation of a lifetime to be left hanging like that, all dressed up in my tux and waiting for you to come down the aisle. You went about leaving the wedding in an ugly way. You should have talked to me, but I see it all differently now. You were eighteen, someone else turned your head—”