Trace stepped cautiously towards Reese in much the way you’d imagine the bomb squad approaching a suspicious package. Her veil was still over her face so he couldn’t see enough of her expression. It didn’t matter though; the very fact that she’d called him out there made things apparent. Something wasn’t right.

Fortunately for Nadine, Trace had been running late as usual that day. It meant he wound up sitting towards the back of the church where it was much easier to grab him. He enjoyed that experience even less than she did. Nadine never bothered hiding her disdain and she often made him nervous. It wasn’t that he was easily rattled; her tongue was just that sharp. Bitter experience taught him to fear her. On seeing her approach he’d been too busy inwardly groaning to wonder why she could possibly want him, but the second she’d started talking his heart sank. She didn’t say much, only that Reese wanted a word. That was more than enough. Because why would she want to speak to him now if it was anything good?

“Hey…” He said it with a slow and wary lilt.

“Hey.” Her own voice didn’t give much away. She spoke carefully and at a near whisper.

“You… you look pretty.”

“Thanks. I like your suit.” He did look abnormally smart in his charcoal threads.

“Maybe we should quit talking like we’re in the receiving line and I’m the second cousin twice removed that you never met before. Why am I here?”

Her bouquet dangled at one side, and with the other arm Reese reached up to sweep her veil aside. It did the dual job of allowing her to look at Trace properly while blocking her face from the view of three worried onlookers. Nadine would probably be standing next to her listening to every word if Jenna wasn’t there to hold her back. This needed to be a private conversation.

“I know you don’t like to stick your nose into other people’s business and it’s one of my favourite things about you, but if I asked you a point blank question you wouldn’t bullshit me right?”

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “You know I’d never bullshit you, babe. What’s going on?”

Reese’s hand tightened around the flowers. She was probably crushing the stems – it was a good thing the thorns had been removed. “Both Justin and Tiffany have told me, in one way or another, that they think he’s wrong for me. What do you think?”

His face paled and he shook his head. “Come on, Reese, you can’t put me in that position. Especially not five seconds before your damn ceremony.”

“Yes I can, you’re my best friend and you’re way more objective than either of them. I promise I won’t get mad. You’re the only person I really trust to give this to me straight and not be blinded by some other issue.”

He wasn’t as confident that she wouldn’t hate him, but she seemed to believe what she was saying. There was also some flattery to be taken. It was an ego boost to be viewed as the trusted advisor. As his eyes flicked over her face, Trace thought she was sincere.

She was sincere. Every other opinion expressed to her was flawed in some way. Justin plainly possessed too much of an ulterior motive. Tiffany’s opinion became clear by accident rather than design. She hadn’t actually intended to suggest that it was a poor match, though that was the practical effect of her advice. But how far could you trust that when she’d never met Drake or seen them interact? Oliver took badly to Drake almost on sight and only became more ill-disposed towards him after the bar incident. Nadine was too fond of Drake and if she was honest, she hadn’t confided enough in her about everything for her to see the full context. Of all the people whose opinions she valued, only Trace’s stood any chance of being objective.

“You sure? Because whatever I say, once I’ve said it you can’t take that back.”

“If I walk in there this is for real, T,” she replied. “It’s now or never.”

“Okay…” He reached out and squeezed her wrist, since her hands were too full of flowers and veil respectively. His eyes closed for a second. Opening them back up, he made sure to look her directly in the face. “If you want my honest opinion…” One more inhalation and the he took the plunge. “It’s not what I ever pictured for you. He’s a good guy, but I don’t think you’d be with him if you hadn’t had a rough time and not really been acting like yourself.”

Reese’s gaze moved to Trace’s neatly shined shoes. A copper tang in her mouth told her that she’d bitten her lip. He held his breath until slowly and uncertainly she began to nod.

“I had a feeling you’d say that.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

Now her eyes met his again, looking fearful. “I needed to hear you say it. So I’d know it was really true.”

“Reese…” Words failed him.

“We’re too different, aren’t we?”

A braver person might have gone ahead and voiced it, but Trace couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he reached out to give her a hug. He risked a glance over at her father, who was looking extremely troubled. Jenna was anxiously pacing while Nadine’s face was set in grim lines. They must have been able to see something was wrong.

“It’s okay, babe,” he said. In a futile attempt at reassurance he rubbed her back.

“How is it okay?” The entire conversation was already at a low volume but now she was near inaudible. “I have to go in there, in front of all those people, and tell him this isn’t happening. I have to go humiliate the both of us.”

Of all the feelings to hit in that moment, the one Trace felt most acutely was shame. What was he thinking, saying that? He really did not want to be the reason she ran out on her wedding. What if he was wrong?

“You don’t have to call everything off just because of my opinion. It’s not like I’m some guru.”

“No, I have to call it off because you’re right, pretty much everything he and I ever talked about for our future was me not really acting like myself.”

That was a better reason. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“I can’t believe I have to do this. Oh God…”

“It’s going to be a bitch.” There was no getting around that. This wasn’t the climax of some movie where she would run off in the sunset with people cheering her onto freedom, or where the jilted groom would graciously thank her for her truthfulness. Even if Drake didn’t kick up a scene this was going to be drama. The guests wouldn’t be able to help themselves, they would gossip.  “But it’s going to be a heck of a lot easier for both of you than if you’d got married and then had to get divorced. At least you realised now before you went through with it.”

“What do I do?”

This might have been the first time in their lives that it was Reese looking to him for a plan, Trace thought ruefully. Whether for good or for mischief, it had always been her leading him along and telling him how things were going to go. It was one of the things he’d missed during the year long estrangement. Whenever he was lost or didn’t know what to do next, he would go to her. After hearing him out for a little bit she would cook up a plan of action for him. Sometimes they were kind of nuts, but she rarely steered him wrong. It usually worked out in the end. Now it was his turn to step up and return the favour. He hoped he was up to it.

“You… stay here. I’ll go in there and get him, so at least you can talk out here without the audience. Then you and your dad can get back in the car and go home.”

“But... the guests… and the reception and… God Trace, why was I so stupid to let it get this far?” The tears spilled out properly this time.

“You’re not stupid; you just got a little caught up, that’s all. We’ll fix it babe, don’t worry. You talk to Drake, I’ll take care of the announcement and getting everybody out of here.”

Hastily releasing her arm, Trace strode away. Half blind through the crying, Reese could only vaguely make out the shape of her father and bridesmaids as he dropped the bombshell. Nadine looked shocked and made as if to run over there to her. Trace grabbed her arm and prevented her doing so. She couldn’t hear the conversation, but apparently he’d given her some other instruction because with a filthy glare she shook him off and stomped away in another direction.

Her father was upon her before she even noticed his approach. Without ceremony or care he pulled the veil from her face and tossed it back over her head.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart.”

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she sniffled. “Guess maybe I’m not as smart as you thought.”

He took her face in his hands and wiped at her wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I thought it was just cold feet,” she said.

“And it’s not?”

She shook her head, tasting more blood as her teeth once again scraped her lower lip.  “I’m so sorry I’m embarrassing you like this.”

John wanted to deny that she was, but he wasn’t so naïve. This was indeed going to be incredibly awkward with their family and friends. It was still infinitely preferable than going ahead when she felt like this but none of them would escape unscathed. There was a good deal of his money that had been wasted as well as the couple’s. The wedding insurance wouldn’t cover this. It was no small matter, even if his daughter’s well being trumped it all.

“You’re really sure that you don’t want to do this?”

“I’m sure it’d be a mistake.” Pain etched harsh lines into her forehead. “What do I do?”

He was saved from having to answer by the appearance of the groom, who looked worried to death. Surely Trace wouldn’t be so insensitive as to break the news himself? John quickly dismissed the thought. Trace didn’t have to have told him; Drake wasn’t a fool. Nobody could think this boded well.

“I’ll wait for you by the car.”

Of all thoughts to fly through her mind at that moment, she wondered whether her mascara had run. Presumably the stylist would have used waterproof.

“Reese? Baby, what’s going on?”

Drake reached her and his hands went to her arms. Deep concern was stamped in the frown lines around his mouth, and delicately his fingers rubbed her bare skin. The care he showed made it worse. Her stomach felt like it was ripping itself to pieces. It was a good thing she’d had no appetite that morning because any food probably would have been making its reappearance. She needed to leave her lip alone too, because once again it was bleeding.

Her breath came in shudders, and the resulting sentence was stilted. “Drake, I… I…”

“Hey, hey.” His hands went to her face and it only made it harder. “Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not.” It was as if her face was some sheet of paper somebody had picked up and was now crumpling into a ball. Everything seemed to wrinkle in on itself. “I screwed up.”

“Whatever it is you can tell me, it’s okay.”

Drake didn’t know how to comfort his sobbing bride. Everything he did seemed counterproductive. His words weren’t helping and neither was the kiss he’d laid on her nose. She was only crying harder. He didn’t understand it. They’d texted each other last night and nothing was amiss. He’d told her he couldn’t wait to see her and she’d said she loved him. So why had she made her friend drag him out of the church? Why was she having this meltdown? How had she screwed up?

A million thoughts went through his mind. Was this some left over issue from that ridiculous bar fight? (He knew she knew that his apology was grudging, though she’d accepted it anyway). Had she done something behind his back he wouldn’t like? With that thought he immediately started to wonder if she’d cheated on him and was having a fit of conscience. The next place his mind went was to her ex-fiancé, whose return was only marginally less strange than the fact that she’d suddenly forgiven whatever transgression made her so previously wrathful. What could possibly be so bad that she would get so far as the church door yet not be able to walk in as scheduled?

Whatever it was, it was making his insides thrash and churn like a sea in a storm. The gut wrenching thing was that she looked breathtaking (apart from the ugly crying). If he’d seen her walking towards him as planned his heart would have been fit to burst. 

“I read your vows.”

He almost wanted to laugh. Was that it? She felt guilty for being nosy? “Well that’s okay, baby, I’m not gonna get mad at you for that. You were only gonna hear ‘em anyway,” he joked weakly.

“No, that’s not…” Her nose was threatening to stream along with the tears, and she had to make a very unattractive snorting sound to keep it back. “Did you really mean them?”

“Of course I do.” Drake ran his hands to her shoulders, massaging them tenderly.

“Then I…” Now she was hiccoughing. He looked so handsome (even with the ineptly concealed black eye). He was looking at her so lovingly that it made her feel ten times more wretched. She imagined this was what it felt like to be boiled in oil. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?” He felt helpless. “What is it?”

“I can’t marry you.”

Drake’s hands flew away from her like she’d burned him. The shock forced him backwards. “What?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Reese, I…” He shook his head as if to clear out his ears. He couldn’t have heard her correctly. “What the hell is going on?”

Her lips were pressed together so tightly they were almost white. Her shoulders shook as she tried to get the words out. “You wrote me these… these really beautiful vows, and when I read them… somewhere deep down I knew I couldn’t be your wife.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense!” He exclaimed. Shock and disbelief were starting to make way for confusion and anger. “What do you mean you can’t marry me because of the vows? If they’re so beautiful what’s the damn problem?”

“You don’t want to be in LA, do you?” She asked. The bouquet was quivering up and down in her trembling hand. “You want to be here. Starting a family.”

“What? Reese, baby, we already talked about that.” He picked up her hand again, trying to reason with her. “I’m fine with LA.”

“For how long?” She threw her arms out, taking his hand along with hers in the gesture. “A year? Two years? Because we’re going to get there and I’m not going to want to come back. You will, I won’t.”

“What?”

Reese dabbed at her nose ineffectually with the back of her hand. The snot would be added to the tears whether she liked it or not. This was not how she’d ever pictured looking on her wedding day.

“I feel like I’ve been so unfair to you. You came into my life and you’ve been nothing but amazing, but it’s been this time when I really haven’t been acting like myself and been trying to be somebody that I’m not. I need to get back to who I really am but if I try and take you with me, I’m going to make you miserable. You don’t deserve that.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“I love you, I honestly do.” A fresh batch of tears sprang up. As far as pain went, this probably rivalled the moment she’d found Justin with the tramp. Inflicting this on somebody she loved so much and who deserved it so little was torture. Apparently heartbreaking sucked equally when you were dishing it out as when you were on the receiving end. “But we’re not what each other needs and I feel like it would be wrong to go through with this. I’m so sorry.”

Repeating that wasn’t making him feel any better. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about all this before we had a hundred God damn people sitting in a church waiting for us?”

“Because I didn’t want to believe it. I was so determined to keep my promise to you that I didn’t stop to think whether that was the best thing and now I’ve just made it all worse.”

Drake was not going to disagree with her. “Look, baby… it’s understandable to be nervous and to panic, but there’s no need to do anything drastic. It’s not that big a deal; we just need to thrash it out some more if what we talked about before hasn’t made you feel better. We’ll work it out.”

She shook her head. “Do you know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t agreed to go to LA, Drake?”

“You’re about to tell me,” he said with a sarcastic bite. He wasn’t in the mood for guessing.

It came out in a bare whisper. She couldn’t bear to say it but she had to. “I would have gone anyway.”

That one shocked him into stunned silence. It was without a doubt the nastiest thing anybody had ever said to him. It wasn’t intended that way of course, yet somehow that only made the sting more potent.

“I would have tossed and turned and agonised over it… but in the end, I’d have to go, because that’s the real person that I am. And that’s not what you signed on for or what you need to be happy. I’m so sorry. I really love you but it’s not enough.”

“No.” Words were coming back to him, and his head started to shake compulsively. “No. You can’t love me that fuckin’ much if you could say that.”

Reese’s head hung, and all she could do in response was to renew the sobbing. More than anything she wanted to be able to answer that charge. She wanted to be able to tell him that it wasn’t true, that she loved him more than anything, that it was all just some unfortunate but uncontrollable mismatch.

That wouldn’t be the truth. That was why it hurt so much.

Right up until her little chat with her father, she still intended to become Mrs Turner. Her talk with Tiffany the previous evening kept her on that path even as she continued to harbour doubts. It allowed her to rationalise away what her gut kept telling her. Over the past few weeks she’d been waking up from the fantasy she’d woven around herself. Unfortunately she had pulled somebody else into that fantasy and now he was suffering the consequences along with her. She hated herself for that. But as John talked his words rang true to her, and she realised her failings.

Her father loved her mother enough to keep his track in line with hers even when that seemed difficult. It never occurred to him to do otherwise. When made to choose he chose her without hesitation and yet without compromising himself. Reese didn’t have that for Drake; he was right about that. If push came to shove she would have to go back to LA. In order to do what she needed to be fulfilled and happy, her choices would have to take her away from him or keep him from what he needed. That meant he couldn’t be it for her. Maybe she’d loved the way he built her back up or what he represented to her, but he couldn’t be the one. She knew what that ought to look like and this situation did not resemble it at all.

Reese knew what it meant to love somebody so much they became too integral to your life to do anything but follow them. She’d done it before, many years before she’d ever realised that was what she’d done. At seventeen years old she’d seen her two best friends starting a life that would take them far away. Her response was to plan a future that would allow her to join them. That was long before one became her boyfriend. It wasn’t a conscious choice, either - just as her father described, she never entertained any other possibility. It wasn’t a matter of sacrificing herself either, the way it would be if she took her vows today.

Reese Bennington simply loved Trace Ayala and Justin Timberlake so much that she’d found a way to make her dreams compatible with theirs. Something she couldn’t do for Drake Turner, no matter how much that was killing her in this moment.

“I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t been in so much denial I could have done this sooner and spared you this. I’m so sorry.”

“Not as fuckin’ sorry as I am,” he said bitterly. “What am I supposed to say to all those people in there?”

She sniffled. “Trace said he’d break the news and get everybody out of there, you don’t have to.”

“Well that’s just friggin’ great. You clearly had this all worked out.”

“What? No…” She reached out for his arm but he batted her away.

“Just save it, Reese. We’re done here.”

As he turned and walked away, her legs dissolved from under her. Later she would find grass stains on the lace from where she’d fallen, but she would have no memory of falling. The world slipped away and though Jenna and her father were rushing to her she saw and heard nothing. All she could concentrate on was the burning black hole that had formed in her chest and was swallowing her insides.