The Love We Left Behind

Noting the location on the banner, I, Julian Chase, headed straight for the wedding venue.

The second I pushed the door open, I saw red roses covering every surface and blue dolphin decorations hanging suspended in the air.

It was identical to the wedding I'd pictured in my head a hundred times, down to the last detail.

The groom, Adrian Locke, stood at the center of the crowd, surrounded by well-wishers.

He wore a tailored tuxedo that matched, stitch for stitch, the wedding suit design I'd kept saved on my laptop for three years.

I'd only ever shown that design to one person—my best friend, Marcus Webb.

A wave of dizziness hit me so hard the room started spinning.

An older woman handling the registration for the wedding stopped me. "Excuse me, young man. Are you friends with the groom or the bride?"

Heads turned at the sound of her voice. The moment people saw my face, gasps rippled through the crowd.

Adrian looked at Claire Winston, confused. "Who's this?"

"A coworker from out of state. He's too far away, so we didn't send him an invitation," she replied, her voice perfectly level.

It was like she wasn't the same woman who'd told me last night how much she missed me.

Marcus pushed through the crowd and grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the exit with a grip so tight it nearly crushed the bones in my arm.

"There are a lot of people here, Julian. Don't do anything you'll regret. Whatever this is, we can talk about it after tonight," he said in a low voice.

I stared at him without saying a word. He didn't let go of me until we were both in the fire stairwell, where his first words were about how sorry he felt for Adrian.

"Adrian's been running himself into the ground for three months planning this wedding. He's lost ten pounds. We can't afford anything going wrong today."

"And what about me?" My voice came out hoarse. I stared straight into his eyes. "I've been working myself to death in Port Elias for three years. I never took a sick day, even when I was ill. I saved up every bit of vacation time just to fly home. Did anyone ever feel sorry for me?"

My eyes burned, and I couldn't stop them from welling up.

I remembered how Marcus used to see me off at the airport every single time. He'd thump his chest and swear, "Don't worry about a thing, Julian. I'll keep an eye on Claire for you. No demon on earth is getting anywhere near my best friend's girl."

Turns out I was the only one who ever took that promise seriously.

"Julian, Adrian's different from you."

"Different how?"

"You've always been strong. You can handle life without Claire. But Adrian has congenital asthma. Claire's the one who's been by his side taking care of him this whole time.

"And back when he first graduated, Claire's the one who suggested to the chairman that you get transferred to Port Elias. She was scared that if you found out about Adrian, it would put him in an awkward position."

My whole body went rigid.

When I first got the transfer notice, I'd planned on turning it down. I'd just bought a place in Ashbury, and all I wanted was to take my father there to get him access to better hospitals for his health.

It was Claire who'd come to me, begging, "Julian, whether I make the board this year depends entirely on this project in Port Elias. I'll only feel okay about it if I know you're the one running things.

"Three months, tops. I promise I'll bring you home. And once you're back, we'll get married."

I agreed.

But three months turned into another three months again and again, and the 1,516 miles between Ashbury and Port Elias never got any shorter.

My throat felt raw and dry as I said, "So, all those transfer requests I filed these past three years to come back to Ashbury..."

Before I could finish, Marcus' eyes had already filled with pity. "Claire's the one who kept blocking them."

I staggered back a step.

Because of those 1,516 miles, I missed my father's heart bypass surgery. I missed being there when he needed me most, lying in that hospital bed. I even missed the last time I could have seen him alive.

My phone buzzed. A message from Claire.

[Go home first. I'll explain everything later.]

I stared at those words, my fingers curling tighter and tighter around the phone.

Then, I turned around and walked straight back into the ballroom.