Unwrapped
Page 18

 Melody Grace

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Now I know, we have enough to light the world on fire, but it’s still not enough.
The worst part is, I wouldn’t take it back, a single second. I could wish it had never happened at all, except that would be a lie: I’d do it all over again, even this pain here, right now. Just to have shared that moment with him, and seen the look in his eyes: like I was everything he wanted, finally his.
One moment of believing we could be real, that’s all I had.
And that’s all you’ll ever have.
I hug my arms around myself, fighting the pain.
“Are you cold? Is the air too high?” Daniel glances over. “I have a sweater if you need.”
I shake my head quickly. “I’m fine,” I lie, even as my heart aches. “How much further?”
“Not long now,” Daniel checks the GPS. “Thirty, forty minutes maybe. We’ll be there before noon, plenty of time for you before the wedding.”
“Thanks,” I swallow back a treacherous sob. “For getting the car, and everything. You didn’t have to.”
“It’s nothing,” Daniel gives a casual shrug, like driving hours out of his way is no big deal. “I needed to do something, anyway. You were right, being cooped up in that hotel room was too much.”
Being cooped up with me.
I feel another stab of misery. “Don’t worry,” I joke, deadpan. “Once you drop me off, we’ll never have to see each other again.”
“I didn’t …” Daniel starts. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Whatever,” I shrug, and turn my face away again. “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me when we get there.”
I pretend to sleep for the rest of the way to Beachwood Bay, until finally the coastal highway hits the sleepy town. It looks perfect and peaceful under a blanket of snow: the boats tied up in the harbor, bobbing white against the slate grey waves. We drive down Main Street, past shuttered stores, and white-picket front yards, and the Christmas tree lit up in the square. Finally, the ache in my chest eases, just a little, replaced with a sense of awe at the surroundings.
“It’s beautiful here,” I breathe, my breath fogging the window. “Like something from a postcard.”
“I would have figured you for a city girl,” Daniel remarks. “Bright lights, big crowds.”
“Most of the time,” I agree, “But look around, and tell me this isn’t the cutest place you’ve ever seen.”
Daniel gives a cursory glance out of the window. “Sure,” he agrees, but his voice is tight, and then I remember: to him, Beachwood Bay isn’t just an adorable vacation town, it’s the place he lost Juliet—and where she’s hours away from getting married. No wonder he doesn’t seem happy to be back here.
It strikes me suddenly that he didn’t have to make the trip at all. Hell, who would want to show up this close to his ex’s wedding? He could have given me the car, and waited for a flight himself, he didn’t have any reason to come with me out here, unless …
I gulp. Maybe he still has feelings for Juliet. Maybe he can’t help but want to see her one last time, before she marries Emerson and is out of his life for good.
The thought sinks through me, heavy as a rock. As if I didn’t feel bad enough, now I know, to Daniel, I’ll never compare to the love of his life. I’ll never be the good, sweet, demure girl he wants to be with, and all the hoping and wishing in the world won’t change that.
We turn up the winding coastal road, the ocean visible through the screed of cedar trees that line the dunes, and I do my best to pull myself back together. By the time we pull into the beach house drive, gravel crunching under the tires, I’m just about back in control.
“I guess the party’s already started,” Daniel notes, as we find a spot to park. The drive is full of an assortment of cars and trucks, and the house sits, strung up with Christmas lights and surrounded by snow, looking out across the bay. It’s a vacation home that’s been in Juliet’s family for generations. She and Emerson don’t live here anymore, not really: they have an apartment in the city, and now that Emerson’s little sister, Brit, has moved in with her fiancé, the place is unoccupied. But when it came to picking a wedding site, Juliet was determined: this house was where she and Emerson began, and it means the world to her to start the new chapter in their lives here too.
“Lacey!” Juliet’s delighted scream echoes as the front door opens and she hurtles down from the holly-decked porch. She sprints across the lawn to meet me, dressed in jeans and a sweater and boots, but with her hair and makeup all done for the wedding. “You made it!”
“I’m so, so, so, so sorry!” I hug her back hard. “I know I messed everything up coming late but there was nothing I could do. Don’t hate me!”
“Are you kidding?” Juliet pulls back, her cheeks pink and excited under her pretty braided updo. “I’m just so happy you made it here at all! Brit is driving me crazy, and I can’t get married without my best friend.”
“I heard that!” A female voice calls out from the second-floor window, and a moment later, Juliet’s sister-in-law-to-be, Brit, sticks her head out. “Hey you! And I wouldn’t be bugging you if you’d sit still long enough to set your makeup!”
“I’ll be right up!” Juliet yells, then hugs me again, grinning. “I’m so happy you’re here! How did you make it? You said flights wouldn’t start up for hours.”