Falling Over You, page 11
She didn't quite know where her wedding was to take place, but her feet, clasped firmly into white heels with embroidered cubic zirconium that matched the design on her gown, seemed to know exactly where to take her. Instead of a veil, she wore a headband which also matched her shoes and her gown.
She really did feel like a princess.
Down the stairs she went before walking to the back door. It was then that she could see her backyard was filled with people on both sides of the aisle, and after blinking once, twice, couldn't believe that it was snowing. Sure, she would be cold, but what a memory it was going to make.
Standing next to her was her father, ready and dressed in a sharp tuxedo. His graying black hair was combed. Even his moustache was combed, and when he looked over at his daughter with his hazel eyes, he smiled, a mixture of happiness and sadness all wrapped up in one gesture. What a sight it was, especially when she knew it was so rare. Already she could feel her eyes tearing up, but she refused to let them fall. Not yet, anyway. There was no way she was going to ruin her wedding for anything.
"Are you ready?" her father asked her, and there was a slight hope in his voice that she would refuse and forever remain Daddy's girl. But he knew he had to let her go at some point, and at least it was to a man that actually deserved his daughter. Such a thing was a rarity, but somehow, she managed to find one.
The bride nodded her head but didn't say anything. As her father opened the door, she tried to get a better look at the man she was supposed to be marrying, but his back was to her. She could see Jane and a couple of the friends she had known from USC dressed beautifully in bridesmaids’ dresses. The groomsmen were men that were familiar to her but she couldn't quite recognize. And the groom, the man she was going to marry, was facing towards the minister, his back to her.
She couldn't see who he was, while he couldn't see her at all.
Suddenly, the butterflies came back as her father opened the door. The familiar bridal march started playing from instruments she couldn't see, and suddenly, the entire audience stood up and turned to face her, to watch her walk down the aisle. They were smiling at her, some were crying—her mother, no doubt—and some were taking pictures. But her soon-to-be-husband had yet to turn around.
However, that fact did not deter her from feeling elation swarming her stomach. The butterflies were still there, but they weren't as prevalent, and they were overtaken by the happiness she was currently experiencing. She was quite proud of herself when she finally reached the altar that she did not trip over her train or herself, and actually managed to walk quite gracefully until she had to stop.
Only then did the man she was supposed to marry turn around.
What she saw caused her heart to skip, not because it was all wrong, but because she had been hoping that it was his face she would see, that it was his black eyes looking at her filled with such tenderness and love, that it was his smile on his face due to her. And he was so handsome, so heartbreakingly handsome, and the way he was currently looking at her caused the butterflies to come back, not because she was nervous, but because she was so incredibly in love with the man in front of her—
A loud, shrill yelp caused Lara Darling to sit up straight in her bed, her eyes still closed from sleep but her mind still reeling in from the dream. She glanced around her room before realizing that it was her cell phone making that ridiculous noise. Brett had long since left for work, but it was only eight thirty in the morning. Who the fuck was calling her so early? It couldn't possibly be anyone on the West Coast due to the fact that it was three hours behind back there and everyone was probably sleeping. Sleeping. Like she should be doing right now.
"Hello?" she asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance at whomever it was that was calling her.
"Oh, hi, honey," a familiar voice on the other end said.
"Brett?" Lara asked, furrowing her brow as her tone softened. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"Um, yeah?" Brett said, his voice slightly wincing. "I woke you up, didn't I?" Before Lara could finish, Brett continued on, the question obviously rhetorical. "Um...oh, well I thought you would be up by now going on some interview or something. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to be late tonight and I was hoping you would be able to have some food waiting for me." Again, Lara didn't have any time to answer. "Okay, gotta go. Love you, bye." And with that, he hung up.
Lara stared at her phone, her mouth hanging open. She was too surprised to be upset, but knew that that particular feeling was toiling around in her system as well.
"Are you okay?" a voice—the voice from her dream—asked.
Lara snapped her eyes up and found Mike standing there in a long-sleeved white shirt with comfortable gray sweatpants. His hair was as unruly as ever, and it was slightly odd to see him without his trench coat on. But it didn't deter him from his looks whatsoever.
"Yeah," Lara said, nodding her head. "I just didn't expect Brett to call me so early."
"What did he want?" Mike asked, his tone immediately going on edge, preparing himself in case he reacted.
"Just to tell me he would be late and that he wanted something to eat when he got home," Lara said before yawning while stretching her arms up.
Mike watched her with a careful eye, his lips curled down into a small frown. "You hate cooking," he pointed out, taking a couple steps into the room and cocked his head to the side.
Lara furrowed her brow. "So?" she asked as she stood from the bed.
"Do you do everything he tells you to?" Mike asked, and though he really didn't mean to be the one attacking her, the question came out that way anyways. It was completely aggravating, the way Lara was completely wrapped around his finger while he wasn't even close to hers. Brett didn't deserve her and Lara was ignorant of the fact. He hated having to be the one showing her her worth because she should already know.
It should already be obvious.
"God, I hate having fights like these with you," Lara said, upset. It wasn't even nine o'clock in the morning. "I really don't give a shit. As long as he isn't cheating on me—"
"He is," Mike said softly, looking away from her. He didn't want to be the one to say it, but it was true nonetheless.
Lara paused. "What?" she asked, raising her brow slowly. "Are you kidding me, Mike? You're really going to go that route because you hate Brett that much?"
"It's true," Mike said. His black eyes burned into hers, not able to keep his patience. "It's true. Every time he told you he was late because of work, it was bullshit because he was with someone else. He was fucking some floozy."
It didn't have to come out that way, but Mike couldn't help himself. Brett upset him to no end, but one look at Lara, and he realized that her fiancé might have just broken her.
24
Lara didn't want to believe him. She wouldn't allow herself to believe him. However, there was something in Mike's eyes that told her otherwise. That he was telling the truth, that Brett really was messing around on her.
As soon as Mike said the words, something else inside of her actually told her it was true. But her mind wouldn't allow her to believe it. Brett would never mess around on her. No way. Not her Brett. Not the man who loved her and cared about her. Not the man she moved across the country for. They were college sweethearts. They were planning to get married! There was absolutely no way Brett could be cheating on her...without Lara knowing.
Women were supposed to know, weren't they? When their boyfriends or fiancés or husbands were cheating on them. Weren't they supposed to get some kind of gut reaction? Maybe a feeling, or just the knowledge itself? Some women just knew. So why was this coming as a surprise to Lara?
Maybe because it was Mike who told her. Maybe it was her stubbornness that refused to allow the notion to taint her thinking when it came to Brett. And because Mike, the man who seemed to hate Brett, didn’t seem to be particularly upset by this news. Lara wondered if he was enjoying watching her suffer, if Mike liked that fact that if this whole thing were true and that Brett really was cheating on her, if he would tell her that he told her so or make fun of the fact that she had thought Brett was the one. She hoped not. Friends didn't do that to friends, did they? Not good friends.
But was Mike telling the truth? Lara tried to raise her eyes in order to look at Mike, but she couldn't. Anchors were heavily weighed on both irises, refusing to allow her to look up. She couldn't. Her breath had escaped from her lips and it was impossible for her to catch it right now. She needed air, but she was suffocating. Running a shaky hand through her hair, she looked up from the floor, silently glad that Mike had vanished. She didn't need him right now, telling her how he was right about everything and how she was wrong about everything. She didn't need to see the glint in his eye that said he was triumphant. No. What she needed now was a friend. She couldn't call Jane because Jane was no doubt working her ass off, and it was too early to call anyone back home....
Which meant she would be left alone with her thoughts. And that was never a good thing.
The best thing she could do for herself, she decided, was to take a long bath, trying to process everything that Mike had told her while simultaneously trying to conjure up memories that might prove or disprove Mike's point. She was in there for a long while, to the point where the water had turned lukewarm. Lara felt frozen, paralyzed, her thoughts swimming but too weak for her to actually stop and process them. Everything was numb. She didn't know—couldn't figure out—how to react.
You can't make any rash decisions right now, Lara, a voice in her head advised. You don't even know if what Mike said is true. You have to talk to Brett about this. That's the best thing you should do.
Would Mike lie to her? Were ghosts even allowed to lie to people they were haunting? Lara didn't think so, but she wouldn't put it past Mike to maybe lie in order to prove his point. However, what if Mike really and truly believed that Brett was cheating—whether he had the evidence for it or not—and as a result, could actually tell Lara because he wasn't lying if he believed it? Or maybe it was lying by mistake. But then, shouldn't ghosts know everything because they'd died and become privy to such information? Which would then mean that Brett was most definitely cheating on her.
Lara shook her head. A headache immediately consumed her mind without warning. Or maybe he had given off some sort of sign, but she was just too lost in her thoughts to notice.
It was nearly ten o'clock that night when Brett came home, and as he requested, there was spaghetti waiting for him in the refrigerator. All he had to do was warm it up.
Upon hearing the door open, Lara walked downstairs slowly, still without any resolution to her questions. At least Brett was home now. At least they could talk about everything now.
"Oh hey, sweetie," he said, popping the bowl of pasta in the microwave. "I thought you were upstairs sleeping."
"I don't sleep all the time," Lara snapped a bit harsher than she had originally intended. Well, it was true. There were some times when Lara felt that Brett thought that all Lara did around the house was watch television and sleep. Which she didn't. And to be honest, she was offended at his assumption.
"Um...," Brett said, trying to come up with something dignified to say but failing miserably. "Okay."
"We need to talk." Lara had never been very confrontational, but whenever there was something that weighed heavily on her mind, she had no problem speaking up for herself. Her eyes narrowed in on him, and suddenly, her breath caught in her throat. It was definitely hard to see and the only reason she had noticed it in the first place was the fact that the kitchen light hit it just right...but there was glitter on the crevice of his neck. Not a lot; he probably washed away most of it, but Lara was sure it was there. She could see it.
That, of course, didn't mean that he was cheating on her or anything. Maybe he met with a new client today and she reached up to fix his tie or something like that. It could happen…. Even Lara knew that explanation was lacking.
All she knew was that she never wore glitter. She didn't even own glitter.
"Why do you love me?" The question was out of her mouth before she could stop herself, but once it was out there, she didn't take it back. Instead, she tilted her chin upwards, trying to feign some sort of confidence she didn't feel, and forced herself to look him in the eyes. She needed to hear this. Maybe he would explain everything. "Why do you want to marry me?"
Brett looked flabbergasted, unsure of what to say, unsure if Lara was serious about this. "What kind of question is that?" he asked defensively, clearly trying to buy time to form a concrete answer. "Are you telling me that you don't think I love you—because I do. You know I love you."
"Don't turn this around on me, Brett," Lara said softly, feeling her worst fears start to slip to the surface. "And no, I never questioned whether you loved me or not. I'm asking why you love me, why you want to spend the rest of your life with me." And then, for emphasis, added, "And only me."
"Listen, Lara," he murmured, his eyes flitting down to the tile floor as he ran his fingers through his hair, "you shouldn't be asking me for any reason. You shouldn't be questioning the love I have for you. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have asked you to move all the way out here from California. I wouldn't have given up my sweet bachelor pad in the city to move into a house in the suburbs. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have asked you to marry me. You should know that. Unless of course, you're starting to question your own feelings and then, to alleviate your own, guilt, starting transferring them over onto me."
Lara had to bite her bottom lip from rolling her eyes. One stupid introduction to psychology class and all of a sudden he thinks he's the next Sigmund Freud? Was he kidding?
"So?" Brett asked just as the microwave beeped. He turned and grabbed the pasta, being cautious so he wouldn't burn himself. "Are we okay? Did we talk about everything that you wanted to talk about? Do I need to tell you I love you again in order for you to believe it?"
He was annoyed with her, she could tell, which just caused him to be condescending.
But, for whatever reason, Lara couldn't bring herself to open her mouth and argue with him. Maybe it was because she was finally realizing that Brett wasn't that great of a guy and an even worse fiancé. Maybe she really didn't even want to fight with him about it because she was already feeling fatigue after stressing out about it for the entire day.
"Thank you," she whispered, though he had already left the room. "You didn't even say thank you for dinner when you know how much I hate to cook."
She turned and headed upstairs, hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible. She thought that after talking to Brett, her doubts would disappear, her questions would be answered.
But there were only more questions.
25
Another week went by and Lara had still not broken off her engagement with Brett. Mike flitted in and out of her life, enjoying the small talk they could fall into rather easily. He didn't bring up Brett, and she didn't either. That was the one spot of their close friendship that was touchy, and both Mike and Lara decided on their own they would not bring him up. Didn't want to risk their friendship over one person. A person, Mike had to continuously remind himself, that was supposed to be the most important person in Lara's life. Her future husband.
She is getting married. She is getting married. She is getting married.
And he hated that. He hated knowing that Lara, the woman he loved, was marrying a man who didn't deserve her. Was marrying a man who didn't love her the way she loved him.
And Mike couldn't do a damn thing about it. What could he possibly do to change Lara's mind about the prick? Or, the question really should be, what else could he possibly do to deter her from marrying him? He pointed out the obvious, things he knew she knew but was denying: the fact that she moved out to a place she didn't like, that she cooked when she didn't like to cook, that the man was sleeping around with other women. Okay, so maybe Mike hadn't seen him intimately with another woman, but what he had told Lara was true. He was cheating on her; that much Mike knew because he saw it happen. Brett had been with another woman, whispering things in her ear, touching her in intimate places such as the curve of her neck, the small of her back, kissing her in various places. He might not have seen Brett sleep with her—though in Mike's humble opinion, he had—but he definitely wasn't innocent in the scheme of things.
Why couldn't Lara see that?
Maybe it was her utter faith in the man. That couldn't be it. Mike had overheard her confrontation with him, and could easily read her eyes. She knew something about Brett was off, but maybe because she couldn't prove it, she wouldn't break up with him. And maybe it was partly his fault, the way he presented the evidence to Lara. Maybe she was just being stubborn. Maybe she was staying with Brett to prove that Brett wasn't what Mike said.
Maybe this was all Mike's fault. All Mike knew was that he was in love with Lara, and even though she was with another man, he knew that she felt something for him. What that something was he couldn't say, and he didn't care to speculate. The phone rang, causing Mike to pause his thoughts and watch as Lara walked into the kitchen to pick up the phone. Mike was sitting at the dining table, watching her with his black eyes, staring at her intently.
"Hello?" she greeted, her back towards Mike. He wished he could hear the other side of the conversation because something inside of him knew—just knew—that it was Brett. "But Brett I—" She stopped; obviously Brett had interrupted her. "I don't understand. You're the one who scheduled the lesson. I know you know how to, but I—" She paused again, and a sigh of surrender slipped out of her nose. "Okay. Okay. Bye."
As she hung up the phone, Mike stood up and when Lara turned around, he locked eyes with her. Brett disappointed her again; it was obvious. He had to cancel, something he'd been doing a lot recently. Apparently, it was some sort of lesson, but Mike couldn't be sure what the lesson was for.
