As if I needed anything to add to the anxiety rushing through me.
The drive to the hotel where this wedding is taking place took me two hours out of town, and I was almost late thanks to my physical therapy appointment going over. But the good news is, I’m cleared to start low intensity practice next week and if things go well, and my knee continues to heal properly, I’ll be back on the court shortly after that.
A few wedding guests quickly make their way past my parked car, rushing into the hotel, afraid to be late. On the other hand, I stay seated in my Audi, inhaling deep breaths and trying to calm my nerves. I didn’t give Indy the chance to tell me she doesn’t want me here, so I truly have no idea what I’m walking into.
The urge to put my car in reverse and get out of here is thrumming through my body, but we made a deal. I would be her date to this wedding, and though she may no longer need me to prove a point, or convince her friends she’s doing okay, I made a promise to show up. I will always deliver on my promises to her, even if she doesn’t want me in the same way I want her.
Keeping my head down, I enter through the lobby of the hotel before finding my way to one of the large banquet halls in the back. I might be the last guest to arrive, everyone already in their seats as I attempt to sneak in.
It doesn’t work.
The few guests who spot me as I enter are quick to tell the people next to them and before I know it, everyone’s eyes are on me standing in the back of the banquet hall.
I hate it.
As whispers circulate, I slip into the second to last row, hoping to hide. There are so many people, people who I don’t know, people who are watching my every move. People who aren’t Indy and don’t bring me the calm she does. With my toes bouncing, I keep my head down, pretending to read over the wedding program in my hands and trying to block out the noise of the growing hushed tones.
The music shifts, and immediately the crowd settles, the focus returning to the real reason they’re all here.
The groomsmen enter and he’s the first one I spot. Blond-haired piece of shit who couldn’t handle his girl being smarter than him. The guy who made her believe something was wrong with her, that she was too much.
The same guy who delivered the best thing to ever happen to me right to my doorstep.
He’s wearing a smug smile and I can’t figure out if he’s naturally that annoying or if he arrogantly got someone back that never should’ve been his in the first place.
Then a different set of doors opens and there she is. Angel in lavender. Blonde hair curled and partially pinned back, white flowers in her hand and in her hair. She’s taller too and I fucking love her in a pair of heels.
She walks down the aisle right past me, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. She glides with a sense of confidence, her head held high, and that radiant smile on her lips.
She’s breathtaking.
When she reaches the makeshift altar, she stands to the far left as the rest of the women wearing the same dress file in front of her.
Alex has his eyes glued to her and I can’t exactly blame him. She’s magnetic.
They’re practically facing each other from opposite sides of the room, and I watch as her attention flickers to him, but I can’t read her expression. I don’t know what that look means.
She doesn’t know I’m here, hiding in the last rows, but she’s the only thing I can see. Even as the doors open and the music shifts for the bride to walk down the aisle. I stand with the rest of the guests, but the only person I’m looking at is the tall blonde who owns my heart in the front of the room.
Indy smiles, watching her friends’ moment, but I notice her eyes bouncing around the audience as she does. It takes a while for her wandering gaze to coast through the entire crowd, but eventually those brown eyes lock on mine.
That polite grin of hers morphs into a full-on beaming smile and I have no idea where we stand or what the fuck that could mean, but I sure as shit know Alex didn’t get that smile.
She keeps her focus on me, a slight flush crawling up her cheeks. “Hi,” she silently mouths while no one else pays us attention.
“You’re beautiful,” I say right back.
She refocuses on the bride’s walk and my attention falls back to the groomsmen. I shouldn’t have assumed no one was paying us attention because Alex is glaring at me, and fuck do I love that kind of attention.
Giving him a wink, my eyes are right back on my girl.
In a room full of her previous life, she’s all I see during the entire ceremony. Golden skin glowing from the ambient lighting, chin held high, and a kind smile as her friends say their vows.
As the words roll off their tongues, speaking of better or worse, sickness and health, and richer or poorer, Indy looks at me. Her attention is locked on me. I’d love to know what she’s thinking because my formally unromantic heart is making up all sorts of scenarios in which she didn’t entertain a second of that conversation with her ex and sees only me as the person she could say those words to.
The ceremony ends with the crowd cheering, but even as I stand and clap, my body boils when I realize her so-called friends paired Indy with Alex to walk back down the aisle. I’m not dense enough to misunderstand the dynamics here. Her friends want them back together.
Alex leans in and says something in her ear as her arm is politely wrapped around his, but she doesn’t respond with words. She only wears a smile for the crowd to see. Her perfectly happy mask.
But I’m privileged enough to know what’s underneath the polished girl, and I get one final glance from her before she exits the room.
The time between the ceremony and the reception is agonizing, knowing she’s here somewhere, taking pictures and not with me. I want to speak with her, hold her, hide away from the rest of these people who haven’t left me alone.
I’ve signed countless autographs and worn my professional smile, answering their probing questions diplomatically.
I’ll be back on the court soon.
My knee is feeling great.
And my roommate is in the wedding party when asked how I know the bride and groom. Truthfully, I know we aren’t just fucking roommates, but I have no idea what Indy wants me to introduce myself as.
These are her people, were her people, and I’m not sure what she wants them to believe.
She and I, we aren’t as different as I once believed us to be. We both put on a facade for the rest of the world, knowing what people want to hear and see, but at home, we’re ourselves, and I love that I have that piece of her.
After thirty minutes of being “on,” I find a small hidden cove outside of the reception area to hide away in. It’s hard to live up to fans’ expectations of the real-life Ryan Shay when all I can focus on is finding out if Indy wants to be with me.
With my hands in my pockets and my head low, I take a few moments to center myself, knowing I need to be a professional when I go back out there. When I go anywhere.
There are so many strangers, it makes my skin crawl, knowing my every move is being watched, but I’d do it a hundred times over and be here today if Indy needed me to.
“You hiding, Shay?”
Looking up, Indy’s neck is craned, peeking into the isolated cove, bouquet of white flowers dangling in her hand. Beautiful as ever. Happy too. And I can only hope I’m the reason for that.