Keeping Secrets in Seattle - By Brooke Moss Page 0,75
the woods I moved, I was never going to stop loving Gabe. It didn’t matter that he was marrying Alicia. The only thing that mattered was that I couldn’t live a lie. And marrying Landon would be a lie.
“I’m so sorry.” I choked on a sob. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Fake Elvis interrupted with the first few lines of “Are You Lonesome Tonight.”
“Sir, could you please shut up?” I begged before guiding Landon a foot or two away from the white jumpsuit. “I do love you. It’s just that…I can’t marry you just to escape my feelings for Gabe.”
He closed his eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
The woman behind the counter announced, “No refunds!”
There we were, crying in a Las Vegas wedding chapel while a chunky Elvis impersonator crooned. What a sight.
I glared at the woman, then brought my eyes back to Landon’s pale face. “Landon, you deserve better. You deserve someone who loves you with her whole heart. I…I got so caught up in this whirlwind with you.”
Fake Elvis’s head popped up next to Landon, his waist shaking and shimmying so much that he was brushing against me with his giant belt, while butchering “Don’t Be Cruel.”
I whirled to face him. “Okay, I’m sorry, but I am going to kick your bedazzled ass in about thirty seconds…”
The woman behind the counter pointed at me with a bright-red nail. “Nobody talks that way to the king!”
I hoisted my purse up over my shoulder and pulled Landon through the glass doors just as another intoxicated couple stumbled inside.
“Congratulations!” the woman slurred as we passed. The man beside her belched.
As soon as we stepped through the doors, the ninety-degree heat hit me like a slap across the face. It was nearly eight-thirty at night and still stiflingly hot. I missed my cool, wet Seattle air.
“We’re breaking up,” he said it matter-of-factly and dropped my hand. A statement, not a question.
Nodding, I used the corner of my small fabric purse to dab at my eyes. “Yeah. I guess we are.” I took his hand and rested my head on his chest. Instead of pulling away, Landon wrapped his arms around me and pressed his face to my hair. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. “I really thought I could make this work. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”
“You know he is marrying someone else, right?” His voice was flat. “You know that Gabe doesn’t want you.”
His words hurt, even though I knew he was right. “I know. It doesn’t matter.” More tears leaked onto his dress shirt. “I don’t want to be with you for the wrong reasons, Landon.”
We stood there in each other’s arms for the longest time, the Nevada heat soaking our clothing with sweat. Once we’d both stilled, I raised my face and kissed him softly. “I think it’s best if I go back to the hotel, pack my things, and head home.”
He nodded. “I’ll miss you, Violet.”
The animal on my chest lifted, and I could finally breathe. “I’ll miss you, too.”
It was over.
Chapter Nineteen
November 8, 2003
I hate Utah. My stepsisters are little twits, and my stepmother treats me like I’m totally unwelcome here. I’ve written and rewritten at least a dozen letters to Gabe since being here, but I keep chickening out on my way to the mailbox. Every time I talk to my mom on the phone, she says that Gabe is getting along fine without me. If I write to him and tell him what happened, it’ll just turn everything upside down, and then I’ll have to deal with the aftermath…
I changed hotels and spent the next two days taking in some of the sights of Vegas completely solo. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go home to face my friends and family without a ring on my finger. Quite the opposite. The fact that I wasn’t married to Landon was a relief. At last, I didn’t have to pretend. I didn’t have to plaster a phony grin on my face and pretend that I didn’t long for something I couldn’t have. I might have been dumped three minutes before I was scheduled to walk down the aisle, but at least I was finally being true to myself.
I sent my mother an e-mail explaining that despite what my previous e-mail had said, I wasn’t, in fact, getting married to the boyfriend she’d never met, and that I’d be home Sunday night for her to yell at me. I turned off my BlackBerry for