wife—true love or not—was the right thing.
Even if he wanted to.
She drank again, swaying to yet another love song. This one was “Amazed” by Lonestar. Her bridesmaids were just going down the list of the sappiest love songs of all time. But she found herself singing along. And thinking of Gavin. They’d danced to this song.
They’d gone to high school together. They’d graduated in the same class and had known each other. The Harbor wasn’t big enough to not know everyone in your graduating class. They’d even flirted.
He and Jason Simpson had sat behind her and Devon in chemistry senior year. He’d cut in on her date at the Homecoming dance and at Prom. Every weekend from January until May he’d asked her to a party on the weekend. She’d always said no.
But he’d never asked her out on a real date. Which was fine. She would have said no to that too. He was a bad boy, a rebel. She was a good girl who followed all the rules. He dated casually, if at all, and was just out for a good time. She dated nice boys, one at a time, and never did more than French kiss.
It was so cliché—the good girl fascinated by the bad boy—it was pathetic.
Then they’d gone away to college and hadn’t seen each other again.
Until that party their senior year of college.
She’d been in love with him since then. She was now twenty-eight. That party had been just before she turned twenty-two.
Pathetic.
She tipped the beer bottle up, but found it was empty. How had that happened?
Suddenly the music died, there were shouts, then she could have sworn she heard, “Move. Police!” followed by a loud crash.
“Oh my god!” Bernie gasped. “Jackson Knight just hit Hayley Stone.”
Oh, that was just perfect. Allie felt her head throb. The best man in her wedding tomorrow had just hit a police officer. That was fantastic.
“What do you mean he hit her?” Crystal demanded.
“He was swinging at someone else but she stepped in. And she cuffed him,” Bernice said with delight.
Crystal went up on tiptoe, trying to peer over the crowd. “Man, I’d love to have Jackson Knight in handcuffs and at my mercy for an hour.”
“People are gonna be so pissed.” Bernie’s eyes were practically sparkling with the juicy news. “Jackson Knight is like a god.”
“But he hit a cop,” Crystal said. “She has to take him in.”
Allie straightened. Hey, wait a minute…
“Take him in where?” she asked.
Crystal rolled her eyes. “Jail. Duh. You can’t hit a cop.”
“Jail?” Allie repeated. “The best man at my wedding tomorrow is going to jail?”
Hey. Maybe that was fantastic. They couldn’t get married without a best man, could they?
“I’m sure he’ll just have to pay a fine or something,” Crystal reassured her. “It was an accident. And it’s Jackson Knight.”
Allie sighed. Yeah, yeah, Jackson Knight. The hot hometown hero. She was sure Crystal was right and Jackson would be out in plenty of time for the wedding.
So, that wasn’t going to help her.
The music came back up and the bridesmaids squealed and started shaking their stuff, the mini-drama with Jackson and Hayley forgotten.
And Allie went right back to wishing for more liquor and thinking about Gavin. Not necessarily in that order.
“You know, maybe you should call him or something,” Crystal said over the music.
Allie turned from looking for a waitress to face her friend. “What?”
“Maybe you should call him. Just, you know, check in. Get your mind focused.”
“You think I should call Gavin?” Why did that sound like a great idea?
Crystal frowned. “Of course not. You should call Josh.”
“Oh.” She definitely shouldn’t feel disappointed about that idea. Josh was the man she was going to be calling for the rest of her life.
Gavin hadn’t even called her after her mom died.
She should not want to talk to him now.
And now that she was getting married? She definitely hadn’t heard from him. Did he know? Did he care? Obviously not. Obviously he’d moved on.
But if he were getting married—she felt a sharp stab in her chest at that thought—she’d call him. She had no idea what she’d say, but she would call. Maybe say something like “congratulations” or “I wish you the best” or “Is she anything like me?” or “Do you ever think of me?” or “Don’t do it!”
Allie covered her face with her hands. She would not call and say any of that stuff if he were getting married. If he were getting married, it would mean that he was