"You are unbelievable. Just unbelievable! Like... just...."

"Unbelievable?"

"Oh, shut up!"

The door to my hotel room slams open and bounces against the door stop before it swings toward the doorjamb. I stomp through the room and toss a beaded, plum colored clutch onto the couch. JC catches the door before it closes and steps inside, letting it slip closed soundlessly behind him.

I can't sit. I can't even stand still. I'm so furious I'm shaking; it's a wonder I even have a voice, since I've been screaming at JC for the better part of an hour-during Nick and Morgan's reception, on the walk back from the reception to the hotel and all the way across the hotel property and up to our rooms. JC has trailed behind me, hands in his pockets, tie undone, shirt unbuttoned at the neck and open just enough to see a hint of babyfine chest hair. If I wasn't so fucking pissed off at him, I'd jump him.

But I am pissed off at him. So much that I feel the steam shooting out of my ears. 

"I don't even understand why you would do such a thing. We talked about this over and over. I told you how important it was to me and you said you got that.  Did you not understand me? Was I not clear?"

JC has taken a seat on the couch. His legs are stretched out in front of him, shoes off, feet crossed at the ankles. He's picked up my clutch and is picking at the miniature beads sewn into the fabric. At my litany of questions, he looks up and calmly answers, "No, I understood you perfectly."

"So..." I huff, hands on my hips. How is he so goddamn calm and nonchalant? "What the fuck, JC?"

Slowly, JC tosses the purse onto the low, glass top table that sits in front of the couch. He pushes himself up to standing position and slowly makes his way across the room to stand in front of me.

"The fuck, as you put it, is that I got tired of hiding and waiting and pretending and making like the only guy here without someone special."

"So you would rather risk that someone special than pretend for a few more days? We had three more days, JC. After today we don't even have to hang out with anyone anymore. We were home free!"

He shrugs. "Well, now we can do whatever we want, whenever we want and we don't have to hide us anymore. I don't get how you don't see this as a good thing."

I turn to face the gorgeous view of the afternoon sun burning on the horizon, the indigo blue water, the blinding white sands, the festive umbrellas with bright red tops dotting the beach. I can't even look at him. If you've ever wondered how things can go wrong in just a few hours, take a perfect situation and add JC.

This morning, everything was perfect.

***

On the heels of a joyous, loud, drunkfest of a rehearsal dinner, JC and I separately escaped The Cliff Restaurant and Bar and met up at my room. Mid-stroke, during our second session of our own version of a loud drunkfest, JC mumbled into my ear, "I think we should tell them."

As I was on the verge of orgasm, I laughed and bucked my hips up at him. "Don't you dare. I'm having too much fun having you all to myself."

JC stopped moving momentarily and caught my eye. "That's what it's about, for you? Having me to yourself?"

"Wha-JC... what is this inquiry about? Right now? In the middle of sex, right when I'm about to come?"

Thankfully, he began to move again, his hips thrusting and pulling back. But his heart wasn't in it. And that means my heart wasn't in it, and I've had enough convenient sex. I didn't want that, not with JC.

"What?" I asked. "What now?"

"Nothing," he said. "You want to come don't you?"

"Well, yeah. But I want you to be into it and you're not. You might as well just stop."

So he did. He stopped and pulled out and flopped next to me, bunching a pillow up behind his head.

"Talk to me."

JC sighed, then ran a hand down his face, wiping away a light sheen of sweat. "I'm just thinkin', ya know. About the wedding and us and everybody. And I know you don't agree but I think our friends should know about us. I feel like we're lying to them."

"But we're not lying to them. And they will know, JC. They just won't know when they'll have wanted to know. They'll know when we're good and ready to tell them."

"I'm good and ready to tell them."

"Well, I'm not. We have this wedding and this reception to get through, still. This trip is about Nick and Morgan. Jade told me today that we're all anyone is talking about. The whole wedding party is tittering about whether or not we're getting along over here. I don't want that."

"I know. I don't either. But eventually..."

I grabbed his face and tipped his head toward me so I could look him in the eye."Eventually, they will know. I promise we won't go the rest of our lives hiding our relationship from our friends. But can we at least get through the reception? Can we give Nick and Morgan that much?"

Reluctantly, JC nodded. And then a sly grin slid across his face and he rolled over, grabbing my legs, holding them open and entering me again. It was like picking up where we'd left off minutes ago, except the small break in the action had done us both good. We both came in a sweaty, breathy mess.

And I really thought things had been settled, especially when he woke me up the next morning with a poke from behind.

We moved around each other easily. We had breakfast and went for a swim and lounged on the sun porch off of my room. Around noon we shared a shower and started getting ready for the wedding. JC zipped my dress, a strapless elegant gown in a deep, custom dyed plum. I helped him tie his tie and fasten his cufflinks, his gift from Nick. When we left the suite at 1:30, all was right in my world.

It was a surreal moment, navigating the walkways of the resort in my matching strappy sandals, the tail of my dress clutched in my fingers so it didn't drag, my other hand tucked into JC's elbow for support. His tux, a black Armani number, coupled with his hair combed back into gentle waves that curled up just past his collar and his strong, manly signature scent made him look and smell good enough to eat.

We arrived at the site of the wedding and lined up according to our rehearsal the previous day. All of us bridesmaids wore the same color but different styles of dress. All of the men wore classy black tuxes, surreptitiously swiping beads of sweat from hairlines and upper lips. The temperature on the beach was in the high 80's-great for us girls in flowing skirts and strapless dresses. Terrible for men in full tuxedos.

"Let's get this show on the road," Keith mumbled, fiddling with his tie and shirt collar.

"Stop messing with your shirt," Bridget fussed, smacking his hands away and fixing his collar. She glanced at me and smiled, saying, "Why can't you be more like JC? Angie has him all squared away and he isn't messing with anything."

"JC's not shoving a ten inch neck into a nine inch hole. I think the tux shop gave me the wrong shirt. I'm choking here!"

My eyes slid over to JC, who was standing patiently, waiting for the music to cue us to begin walking. I noticed the hint of a smile, listening to the longest married couple in our group bicker.

"Could be us. Give us about ten years."

I opened my mouth to protest but the music started, so I just shook my head. Then tucked my arm into his and stepped in time to the sound of the wedding march played on steel drums.

The ceremony was blessedly short but very sweet. Morgan looked angelic, radiantly beaming in her strapless silk wedding dress, looking like she'd just stepped off the cover of Bride Magazine.  Nick looked handsome and proud, though nervous in his white tux. In his lapel was a rose dyed the color of the lilies in Morgan's bouquet and the shade of our dresses. Every detail was perfect-to the letter.

As my two best friends on the planet stood and faced each other and recited vows that they probably wrote together-because they do everything together-my gaze shifted just past this coupling to JC standing on the other side. His eyes weren't Nick and Morgan either. They were on me.

With the rings exchanged and the vows recited, it was all over but the kiss, which was met with a loud, rousing chorus of whooping and hollering. The moment they were declared Mr.  & Mrs. Nick and Morgan del Ray and joyously danced down the center aisle, I watched Keith roll his eyes in relief and unbutton the collar of his shirt.

Right on cue, Bridget showed up to fuss at him. "We have pictures in a few minutes!"

"Do you even care that I can't breathe?"

"Of course I care, honey. But you can't take wedding party photos with your collar unbuttoned."

"Well, when it's time for the pictures I'll button it again. Right now I need some air." Bridget clicked her tongue and reached for his collar. He gently grabbed her wrist and glared. "Sweetheart, I love you but I will toss you into the ocean right fucking now if you touch my collar."

The entire wedding party and half the guests, all privy to this light argument laughed. Nonplussed, Bridget anchored a fist on each hip. "Who're you going to get to raise your brats, then?"

Keith groaned, rolled his eyes, and bent down toward her so she could button the collar.  I stifled a chuckle and walked past them, down the center aisle through a few gaggles of people lingering to chat. I said hello to Nick's parents, then Morgan's on my way to the reception hall, a few steps away from the beach.

Inside the cool, dark room illuminated by candles and low hanging strings of pearl lights, several tables were spread about. A buffet table lined one wall, a full bar and bartender lined another. At the head of the room was a large square of wood paneling that seemed to serve as a dance floor, since a disco ball hung dead center. On a makeshift stage, a steel drum band was pounding out contemporary hits.

"So, I've never heard My Prerogative quite like this before." JC had snuck up next to me, a drink already in hand.

"Yeah, it's.... different. But not bad once you get used to it."

"They don't play all night," he said, reassuringly. "Just for atmosphere, until we get going and then it's piped in music."

"Great. I was beginning to worry about your part in this plan." JC's job was the festivities-the parties, the reception, everything from food to music. My job was style-details like colors and decoration and the general flow of the ceremony. While we collaborated on a few tasks, I let JC do what he does best-plan a party, while I did what I do best-negotiate the hell out of everything else.

"We did a great job, partner," said JC, dropping an arm over my shoulder. "It's been a good trip so far. Very... very good." He nuzzled my neck as he spoke. His lips, wet from his drink brushed against my skin and sent a shock of pleasure through me.  

"Knock it off," I mumbled, stepping away from him.  

JC paused for a moment and then with a twinkle in his eye, said, "That's right honey. Play the part. Put on an Oscar winning performance for all of our friends here. I'm sure they appreciate the effort."

I glared at JC, who knocked back the rest of his drink and headed back over to the bar. The room was beginning to fill up. The wedding party had to meet in five minutes for photos. If JC was planning to get hammered and ruin these pictures....

I rushed to get between him and the bar, a move that must have surprised him. "Okay, clearly you have a problem with me right now but you cannot be drunk. We have pictures in minutes."

"I'm not drunk, Angie. I just got a little something to cool me down and I'm taking the cup back to the bar." He dropped the cup on to the faux wood counter of the makeshift bar and turned to me as if to say ‘see?'  "Have a little faith in me, honey. We've still got a show to put on, right?"

I sighed with relief, grabbed his arm and dragged him back outside.

A half hour later, photos taken and the wedding preserved for posterity, everyone seemed immensely more relaxed. Even Morgan, who was giddy and tittering away earlier seemed more mellow, quietly chatting with Nick at a table. They were holding hands, admiring their matching wedding bands, smiling at each other and acting like they were the only two people in the room.

We ate, we drank, we partied. We danced until our shoes came off and then danced some more.  After a few hours, JC grabbed a flute of champagne, climbed up on stage and pulled the microphone from its stand, motioning for the piped in music to be turned down.

"Y'all know what time it is, right?" JC's question was met with a round of applause and the ting ting ting of silverware banging against glassware. "Yep, it's time for me to wax nostalgic about my buddy Nick and how much he means to me. I mean, you guys all know us, have known us for a very long time. Four of us have known each other just about our whole lives."

I felt not only JC's gaze but the entire room's eyes on me. I smiled and waved and waited for him to continue.

"Back when we were kids, I never saw Nick without Morgan. Never saw Morgan without Nick. They were the same person. One unit. Nick-and-Morgan." The room laughed, as did JC. "That's not to say that Nick and I did not have our share of guy time. In Jr. High there were sleepovers and lunch at our lockers. In high school there was the back of the room during biology lab, when we were supposed to be dissecting frogs. Even when Nick was Pre-Med and I was Pre-Law, and then he was a doctor and I was an attorney, we always found time to hit the golf course for a round or two. Okay, half a round of and three hours of beers and Stogies in the club house, but whatever."

JC paused for another bout of laughter. "I'd say I never met two people more perfect for each other, more in love, more suited for happily ever after than these two... but I'd be lying."

JC's pause was met with an eerie silence, like everyone, including me, was holding their breaths waiting for the next few words. I closed my eyes, silently uttering a prayer to a God that I was sure was not listening. "Please don't do this. Please, please, please."

"See, while Nick and Morgan were hanging out and being perfect for each other, getting a head start on a lifelong love affair, their two best friends discovered each other. And became best friends. And started hanging out. The only couple that rivaled Nick and Morgan  in the "Oh My God They're So Cute Together" and "They're So Perfect for Each Other" categories was JC and Angie. Look it up. I swear. It's in our yearbook."

JC paused to let a light chuckle ripple across the room. "Man, those times were great. The best of my life.  You know what it's like when you're a teenager and everything's just perfect. Until it's not."

JC paused, staring into the air. I watched him swallow once, then twice, before he spoke again. "Until that one time when I made a huge mistake. And I lost the love of my life. And regretted it ever since. Then, because I couldn't let her go, I spent the next decade or two making her life hell. Making her regret ever loving me."

"What the fuck is he doing?' I whispered to Jackie. "He's supposed to be talking about Nick, the Groom. Not himself! This is not a Best Man's Speech!"

"Shhhh, honey," she said, tapping me on the arm. "Just listen. See where he's going with this."

"But see, the perfect couple that Nick and Morgan are... they just want everyone to be happy, like them. Blissful and in love and a perfect couple like them. They knew what could be possible, what could maybe happen, if only we could pull our heads out of our own asses. I know they feel like all those years of encouragement haven't even been heard. Good advice and prayers and even a little ass kicking now and then, total waste of time.

"So they gave up." JC paused, nodding into the now silent room. "Yup, they finally said okay, you guys are our best friends on the planet, but if you two don't want to be a part of each other's lives, you don't have to be. Just do this one last thing for us and then you never have to see each other again. Well, ladies and gentlemen, today you witnessed that one last thing. Two people who couldn't stand the sight, touch, smell or sound of each other put together parties and banquets and dinners and brunches and, if I say so myself, one of the best weddings I've ever been to."

The room erupted in laughter. Even I chuckled for a second.

"So today marks the beginning of something new for all of us. We just watched one half of this foursome dedicate their lives to one another in front of their friends and family. Nick, Morgan..." JC raised a glass of champagne aloft in toast. "I salute you, I congratulate you, I celebrate your union today. May you have twice as many happy years as a married couple as you've had so far."

He sipped, leading everyone else to do the same, but quietly, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was hoping he was done, but he opened his mouth again and kept talking.

"But... what I really want Nick and Morgan to know is that the last decade or so of bugging us and begging us and threatening us hasn't gone unnoticed. It didn't fall on deaf ears. We're not completely hopeless. Your thinly veiled plan to force us to work together so that we'd get the hell over our selves and realize we're still in love with each other and still perfect for each other and we still have a chance at a happily ever after.... well, it worked."

A sharp gasp came from every corner of the room as all heads snapped around to look at me. A dull roar crossed the room from right to left, front to back. I heard Morgan scream... and then sob. I sat there, like a deer in headlights, gripping my glass so tightly I felt like it might shatter in my hands.

"Angie and I had had a lot of stuff to work out. Eighteen years of stuff. It hasn't been easy. I'm kind of an asshole. She's kind of stubborn. But we...we uhhh..."

JC glanced at me from up stage and, through a mildly drunken stupor, I'm sure he felt my rage from ten feet away. Appropriately, I see beads of sweat pop up across his forehead, which he swipes away with a thumb.

"I'm already in... so much trouble. I can't take any words back so let me just rip off the band-aid and say that Angie and I are back together. We wanted to keep it under wraps until Nick and Morgan got hitched but I couldn't wait to tell everyone that it worked. This really stupid idea you guys cooked up to push us back together... it worked. And the point of my whole spiel here is that..."

JC shoved a hand in a pocket and for the first time seemed sheepish and hesitant. "Well, hopefully, if I make it off of this island alive, Nick will be my Best Man someday. Then he can give a crappy, self centered speech at my wedding. Until then, I love you man. Congratulations to you and the Mrs."

JC stepped offstage amid applause and squeals of joy and hands grabbing at him-women to kiss his cheek and men to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand. In my fog, I barely noticed Jackie grabbing me and shoving me into an awkward hug, pressing her belly right up against me. "I knew it!" She squeaked, practically jumping with her arms around me. "I just knew it. I don't know how, I just knew it; I just knew this was going to happen!  Remember the Wedding Party brunch? Were you together then? You looked so happy!"

"Jackie..."

"And then your face at the Bachelorette Party! Remember I said you looked like you had--"

"Jacks!" I tried to pry her arms from around me but pregnant women must be stronger than steel.

"I'm so excited for you guys! I never knew you together, but I always thought you would make such a cute couple! And I want to hear all about how you got back together and I'm so pissed you didn't tell us! You could have told us, we're your best friends!"

I finally gave a strong tug and pulled away, releasing myself from her iron grip. I stepped back, tossed my champagne glass on the nearest table and stalked to the door. "Air," I managed to choke out. "I need some air."

I sat outside on a painted wooden bench, by myself, for a long while. Legs crossed, arms folded across my chest, one foot furiously twitching.  Relax, I said to myself. Calm down.  So what if JC just revealed to fifty of our closest family and friends that we'd been hiding a reconciliation? So what if I asked him to keep it quiet for just a few more days?

By my count, they managed to leave me alone for about a half hour. I heard the door to the reception hall swing open and the rustle of heavy silk and tulle swish in my direction.

God. Morgan. She should not be out here consoling her best friend on her wedding night.  

She sat down next to me, fluffing the full skirt of her dress around her, saying nothing for a few moments. When I didn't offer up any words either, she reached for my hand. The sight of our clasped jumble of fingers brought tears to my yes.

"For the record," she started, gripping my hand tightly. "It's obvious that he told everyone before you were ready to tell, and I think that's shitty. It's such a JC thing to do. Sometimes I forget that he's kind of an asshole."

I shook my head and despite my mood, laughed a little. "You don't believe me until he embarrasses me in front of everyone."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Angie. It's totally okay for you guys to want to keep your relationship quiet for awhile. You know I never anyone about when me and Nick broke up, and then got back together. Some things are meant for just the two of you."

I nodded and sniffled, swiping at errant tears that wouldn't stop falling. "I didn't want to take away your moment. I wanted you to have this whole day to yourself. Now anything anyone is talking about is how Angie and JC are back together."

"Oh, honey. You two have been a topic of conversation long before this week."

"I know," I said, my voice gritty and shaky with the threat of more tears. "But we worked hard on this. I didn't want to take your spotlight and he knew that."

"I'm not worried about my spotlight, Angie. I've been with Nick for like... thirty years. There's no spotlight, just a big ass dress and a rockin' party in the Caribbean. And even if you did steal our spotlight? I couldn't be happier about it. Aren't you happy to be back with him?"

I shrugged. "I was. Up until about an hour ago I was really, really happy. And now... I just don't know. I didn't... I wasn't ready for everyone to know yet."

"Cat's out of the bag, now. You don't feel a little relief? It had to be hard to hide."

"Actually, it wasn't all that hard to hide."

"Oh really? Because actually, you guys didn't do that great of a job hiding, actually." Morgan smirked, then giggled. "I knew."

"Shut up, you did not."

"Did so!" she said, laughing loudly.  "I've known you your entire life, Evangeline Nicole. I know you better than you know yourself. I could tell."

"How? How could you tell?"

"It's written all over your face."

I groaned.  "That's... that's stupid."

"I'm serious. When we were kids, there was this look that you'd get, when you saw JC. You loved him so much; I could see it in your face. I hadn't seen that look in a long time and it took me awhile to recognize it again. But around..." She paused, furrowed her brow in thought for a second, then continued. "My Bachelorette Party. That's when I saw it again. And I didn't call you out on it because Jackie was doing an outstanding job of that herself."

"Nosy bitch. Pregnant people must be fucking clairvoyant or something."

"Must be. Or you just can't help that look on your face. The one that's still there, even though you're pissed as fuck at him."

"So, Lover's Lagoon and the champagne? It wasn't meant to push us together?"

Morgan shook her head, a small, proud smile on her lips. "We wanted you and JC to have some time together in a really special place, away from prying eyes and nosy pregnant people. This trip is just as much about you and him as it is about me and Nick." She squeezed my hand in hers, then drew our hands to her chest. "We wouldn't have wanted to share this week with any other couple. Foursome for life, right?"

I squeezed back, then quipped, "We'll see if JC makes it off this island alive. It might really be Wedding WrestleMania."

Morgan laughed. "Well, give him hell. That was shitty, what he did, and I don't like it. I mean, I love that you're together, but you should be happy right now and you're not. I want him to fix that."

"Well, give me a chance and I'll see what I can do." JC voice was behind me. I twisted around to see him leaning against the red brick wall, jacket off, collar unbuttoned, tie loosened, hair disheveled. His face was slightly pink but his eyes were clear and bright. At least he wasn't drunk.

Morgan patted my hand before letting go, then without a word, got up and picked her way back down the path to the door of the hall.

"What, you snuck out the back door?"

"Yup," JC answered, taking Morgan's spot. "How deep in shit am I right now?"

"Pretty deep."

"Wow that was a quick answer."

"You asked. That's where you are right now."

"Do I even get a chance to explain?"

"Explain? Explain what? How we just had a conversation this morning about this, and I asked you to wait until after this was over, and you said-"

"You said until after the reception. Reception's pretty much over, honey."

I propped my elbows on my knees and dropped my head into my hands, trying to regulate the anger that was roiling up again. "Are you always so goddamn literal, or only when it suits you? I obviously meant after this trip. That's what we talked about before, JC!"

"Well, sorry. I took what you said and ran with it-"

"You took what you wanted to hear and ran with it."

"Okay. Maybe I did. But now it's out there and we don't have to worry about it."

I sat up, inhaled deeply, closed my eyes. This conversation was not working to soothe anything in my mind. I was angrier by the second.

"You don't have to worry about it, JC. See, guys don't care about this shit. They'll pat you on the back and smoke a stogie with you and that'll be it. Women are different. Women are nosy and catty and judgmental. You have no idea what you've just done to me."

I stood up, kicking up the hem of my dress behind me. "I need to get out of here. I need to get away from you."

I heard JC huff a grunt of frustration as I marched up the path toward the hotels. "Angie, don't go. Let's talk this out. Don't run away from this."

I stopped long enough to hurl a barb over my shoulder. "The only thing I am running away from is a selfish, self serving asshole."

"Oh, I'm an asshole because I want our friends to know we're together and we're happy?"

"Do I look happy to you, JC?"

"Well, not right now, no. But if you calm down and stop being fake mad about this-"

I stopped and turned on my heel, forcing JC, who had been following me down the path, to collide right into me. "Don't. touch. me. Don't follow me. Don't talk to me. Fake mad? I'm fucking pissed at you right now!"

"More or less pissed than when you found out about Stacey? Is this stay mad at JC for twenty years pissed, or will it blow over?

I physically felt myself turn green at the mention of Stacey Rodriguez. "I hate you so much right now."

"Okay, cheap shot. I'm not all that fond of you right this second, for the record. But I want to talk about it, work it out. We were going to tell them anyway-"

"When I was ready! That was the optimum time! Not in the middle of their wedding reception, with some me, me, me, all about me Best Man speech. Is that the speech you wrote? Is that what you planned to say all along?"

"No... I was kinda drunk and really happy. Look, Angie..." I heard JC's steps quicken as he tried to keep up with me. "I know you wanted to wait. I know you did. And I know your girlfriends are going to give you hell and I'm sorry about that. I just felt like we needed to say it."

"You hear yourself?" I shot over my shoulder, marching steadily toward our building, and thank God because my feet were killing me with every step. "We? What's this we shit? I didn't agree to any of that. I had no idea I was about to be ambushed in front of all my friends. Our friends. Nick and Morgan's family and friends. At their wedding, you thoughtless, selfish asshole!"

I grabbed the hem of my dress and hiked it up so I could walk faster and stomped into our building, slammed my hand on the ‘up' button on the elevator and stepped inside as soon as the doors opened. I pressed the button to close the doors just as JC arrived. With pleasure, I watched them close in his face. He would have to take the other elevator.

I made it to my room, swiped the key and tried to shut JC out before he made it to my room but he caught the door before it could slam shut.

***

"If I knew it would make you this upset, I wouldn't have done it. I knew it would make you mad, but not this mad. I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry," I mumble, staring at the view. "You're happy. And I wish I could join you in your bliss right now, but I can't."

"I guess I don't get it," he says. I hear him settle onto the bed, then kick off his shoes. Clunk. Clunk. "Explain to me why I'm the worst person on the planet right now."

"Maybe I didn't want to spend all week being the center of attention."

"Most girls like that."

"Well, I guess I'm not most girls, am I then?"

"Guess not."

"Now everyone will be watching our every move. Oooh, they're holding hands! Ahhhh, they're kissing!" I clapped my hands, slowly and sarcastically. "Good show. Good show, guys."

"That would be less of a show than the show we've put on all week. Sneaking around, not saying anything to anyone, ducking questions-"

"Ugh, the questions! The questions!" I spin around to face JC, perched on a corner of the bed in his suit pants, shirt and socks. "I'm not going to have a moment's peace for weeks!"

"Well, don't you know the answers to the questions? You know, how long have you and JC been back together?" He shrugs. "Oh, a couple weeks.  Why didn't you guys tell anyone? Well, we wanted to keep it private for awhile, just between us." He shrugs a shoulder, calm and nonchalant. "Easy. You know how to work it."

"You're cute. How about this one: why did you guys break up in the first place? Because Angie is a cunt. Because Angie spent twenty years being mad at something stupid. Because Angie has a hard time having to admit to all of her friends that she's been wrong this entire time. Because Angie has a hard time coming to grips with how much time she wasted being angry. And not being with a man she's been in love with since she was seven years old."

The room is silent except for my occasional sniffle. Somewhere in the middle of my speech my chin started to tremble and the tears began to fall. Because that's what it all boils down to, for me. Having everyone on this island know that it was my fault we were broken up for so long. My fault they had to endure years and years of us bitching and snapping at each other. My fault that our best friends got so sick of our shit that they had to force us back together again.

"I didn't realize it ran that deep for you," JC finally says, breaking the silence. "I just... thought you were being shy about it."

I shake my head slowly, quietly swiping tears from my cheek. JC rises from the bed, then walks around it, grabbing a box of tissues from the bedside table. Cautiously, he approaches me with it, leading with the box. I snatch it from him and he rears back, then bends his legs and sticks up his fist as if moving into fighting position.

"You wanna fight me? Come on. Take a swing. First punch is free."

I snap two or three tissues from the box and toss it onto the couch. I wipe my face and try not to smile. "Shut up, you stupid ass. I'm not going to hit you."

JC pauses, then stands straight up.  "Okay. Well then it's not as bad as I thought."

"But it is bad," I remind him.

"Of course. It's very serious." He reaches for my hand and without thinking I offer mine and let him pull me toward the bed. We sit side by side. "You think people blame you for us not being together?"

"I think they do. They don't come right out and say it..."

"You're right, they don't. Because they don't know the whole story. No one knows the whole story but us. Me, you, and the big guy upstairs. And it can stay that way, because I'm not interested in impressing these people. The only person I want to impress is sitting next to me."

I sniffle and swipe at my nose.

"I think people blame me," says JC. "I think you've been living your life and going along your merry way, trying to make something of yourself and here I come, at every corner. Ready to pick a fight. Always had something to say, and it was not nice. Always had a judgment. I loved to get on your nerves. You know that, right?"

"Still do."

"I loved pulling Housing Discrimination cases, because I knew the chances that I'd go up against you were like 99 to 1. I'd work my ass off to beat you. Because it felt good. It felt like I was constantly showing you up. You were fine without me. Great without me, even. I wanted to be better."

I fiddle with the Kleenex, watching the shreds fall onto the pretty plum dyed dress. I smooth the pieces of cotton away and brush wrinkles from the fabric. I want to stay angry and hurt and upset but the words... his words are wearing me down.

"You remember the night of Nick and Morgan's engagement party, when I called you on Facetime? And I said Nick and I had a long talk?" I nod. "I told Nick. I told him everything about the last eighteen years and about that kiss that night at my house and about how I thought I might still be in love with you."

"Yeah? What'd he say?"

"He said everyone already figured that out. He said you'd probably get real fed up real soon and leave town, and I'd miss out on my chance to fix this. He said if I wanted you, if I really wanted to be back with you, to man up. To stop being a dick and just say it."

"He was right. I was going to leave," I quietly admit. "After we got back from this trip I was going to tell everyone that I was planning on moving on, maybe some other city. Not too far away so I can still visit my parents when I need to. But far enough away that I didn't see you everyday. Didn't run into you in every court room."

"You're not still planning that, though?" When I don't answer, he follows up with, "Right?"

I pause in thought for much too long. Then I shrug. "After today? I might."

The look that skates across his face is the opposite of his cool response of "Okay." Then, "Are you leaving me... and us... behind, then?"

I sigh a long, deep, loud breath, emptying my lungs. "That's a really, really good question, JC."

With so much still hanging in the air but my anger floating away light a deflated balloon, I'm happy JC chose not to press the issue of me leaving Orlando. The truth is that I don't really know what I'm going to do. The more I think about it, leaving Flanning &Rourke sounds like music to my ears.  I'm reminded of my conversation with Jackie-if I could get an offer from Perry Law, I could get an offer anywhere. Anywhere in the state, really.

But I'm not sure I want to leave Orlando now. And despite how angry I was at him today, I don't know if I want to leave JC behind.

I hop in the shower for a long hot soak... alone. JC left and went to his room and stayed there. When I get out of the shower, I hear his door open and then close. I brace for him to burst into my room but he doesn't. Instead, I faintly hear the ‘ding' of the arriving elevator.

I don't know if I am being punished or if he's giving me space but either way, I'm nervous about making my way down to the Cliff, where everyone is getting together for post-wedding festivities. Upon my entrance into the sun-lit moderately upscale bar, I spot our group in the back room near the pool tables. Everyone seems to have taken our lead and changed into cooler, more comfortable clothing.

JC, dressed in jean shorts, shoes with no socks, a thin t-shirt and a ball cap doesn't acknowledge me from across the room. Where those crystal clear pools of blue would normally follow me around, he practically turns his back to me, then turns up the amber bottle he's holding and pours the remaining beer down his throat.

"Hey girl." Morgan loops an arm around me and redirects me toward the table where she's sitting with Bridget, Jackie and Jade. Great. Here goes the Inquisition.

I slide into a chair and order a beer with lime from the waitress as she passes. I notice Jackie has a margarita glass in front of her. "That better be lemonade or some shit."

She nods, grimacing.  "With sugar on the rim."

"Good girl."

She snorts. "Good girl my ass. As soon as I can, I'm getting shitfaced. I'm so serious."

I laugh. "Yeah well, you make sure to call me for that. I might be up for getting shitfaced."

"Hear, hear," Jade says, lifting her bottle of beer. "Come to Prime and I'll do the pouring."

"Oh, are you going back to Prime?"

Blushing, Jade lowers her bottle back to the table. "Yeah, I'm going to pick up some weekends. Uhm...." She fiddles with the bottle, absentmindedly spinning it. "Me and Tyler are going to get a place together. We're both still living with our parents, so we're going to try to make some extra money and move into a place in the Spring."

"Really?" I make a concerted effort to bite back any judgmental comments that are sitting at the back of my throat. Not my business. Let Ty be happy. But so help me God if she hurts him.... "That's great, good for you guys."

The waitress brings my beer and pops the top. I grab it and guzzle a few mouthfuls.

"So Angie-"

"Oh my God, Jackie. Please don't start already. Please."

"I'm not starting. I was just going to say I'm happy for you. And that's all. I promise." She sips from her margarita glass of lemonade, but her eyes don't leave my face. I know she has something else to say. "And my ears are open whenever you want to spill. That's it, promise."

"Jackie," says Morgan, through her teeth, from across the table. "You're so fuckin' nosy. She'll talk when she's ready. Back off."

"Or when she's drunk," Bridget says, her words slurring terribly. I laugh as her head bobs and weaves in her effort to sit upright.

"Oh Jesus. What have you guys done to Bridget? Get her some water. Keith!"

Bridget guzzles half a glass of water and seems more in control, a few minutes later. She's leaning up against Keith, grinning through his ribbing her about being drunk. He has always found it funny that Bridget can't really drink. She does give it a good try, though.

"So, I notice JC is like... all the way across the room." Morgan nods toward JC and Nick, deeply embroiled in conversation. Probably about me. "First time he's left you alone in like... twenty years."

"Yeah. We're fighting or something? I think. I don't know."

"How do you not know?" Asks Jade.

"I mean... we fought, and then I calmed down. And we didn't really make up. And we talked about some other stuff and I don't think he liked what I had to say. He left and came down here without me. And now he's pretending I'm not here."

Jackie shakes her head and takes a sip from a fresh glass of lemonade with sugared rim. "Boys are such children sometimes. Matt will let something just bug the shit out of him before he'll say anything."

"Nick doesn't let anything bug him. He's never, ever mad. It drives me crazy, because I can go from happy to sad to mad in seconds. He's so even tempered. It must be all those years of working with kids."