Before You Go

chapter thirty-three

Leon

Sitting through dinner is a painful experience—and not just because I have to watch James act lovey-dovey with Liz. I'm happy they made up after their fight, but what bothers me is that Liz isn't responsive to anything he does. Not the way he squeezes her hand or smiles at her. She barely responds when Tenille asks her if she wants any guacamole for her chicken burger. I'm scared that what I've confessed has rattled her to the bone. My intention was never to make her decide between James and I, but who was I kidding? There's no other option.

Throughout dinner, Liz and I are the quietest people at the table. Meghan does most of the talking, bringing childhood memories into the conversation. I don't know what it is about tonight's dinner, but everyone is over the top with their positivity. All the aunts and uncles are exuberant about the wedding. Sarah and Corian can't stop talking about how great of a planner Tenille is. Tenille and Kit keep exchanging conversations. Serena and Scott are playing footsy under the table. Hell, James even plays nice by asking me if I'll teach him some golf techniques.

I want to rip my hair out. Why is everyone so happy? It's beginning to make me sick. And while I'm pissed at everyone for being happy, what makes my mood worse is I'm realizing how similar James and I are. We both want Liz to be happy. It makes me hate him even more.

I leave the table as soon as I can, volunteering to do the dishes. Leaving is my only option or else I'm going to blow up. It's shameful to think I'm letting envy get the best of me after I've held the reins in tight. But it is what it is. I'm envious of James. I want to be the one who kisses Liz's cheek and wipes the smear of guacamole from the corner of her mouth. Liz was supposed to be the woman I married and raised a family with.

A pang of sadness reverberates through my heart.

I fill the sink up with warm water, adding in a dollop of dish soap. The scent of lavender and lime fills my nose as the water runs. I watch the bubbles form, counting the long seconds that pass. What I need are distractions—distractions from James's voice and the way he coddles Liz, and the comments about the wedding.

"Hey," Tenille says. Her arms are loaded to the max with dirty dishes. "What's up with you? You've been quiet. So has Eliza." She sets the dishes next to the sink and then scrapes off any food remnants into the garbage.

Her tone of voice makes me think she already knows the answer.

"I told Liz," I reply. Avoiding the truth is pointless. "And now I'm acting like a jealous jerk—I can't stand watching James coddle her." I take a scraped dish from Tenille and submerge it in the water. Then I roll my sleeves up and get to work. "I don't know what I was thinking, Ten. Part of me wants her. Part of me thinks she's going to choose me. But after watching her snuggle close to James, despite hardly talking, I think I've been too intuitive."

"You think the wedding will go on."

I sigh. I'm not sure what I think. My emotions are out of control. I'm envious and pissed and sad and hoping, praying that Liz will choose me. But there's also a part of me that thinks I've been too intuitive. Maybe she didn't linger at the carrier house because she wanted to spend time with me. Maybe she lingered to tell me she wants James. Those tears she shed on top of Whistler Mountain were probably to get the pain of us losing our chance out of her system before she completely moved on with James.