"To Danny and Mia"

“This is a celebration to new beginnings,” Sinclair smiled proudly, standing behind the podium with his champagne glass that had been begging for a refill for the umpteenth time tonight.

More like he had been begging.

He stood there before everyone, hair disheveled like he’d been restlessly running his fingers through it, and his tie hanging loose as his button-down revealed part of his chest.

He was a mess. A part of me felt bad—something in my chest twisted as I watched him up there—but I pushed the feeling aside because it didn’t matter anymore. Not today, anyway. I was getting married in less than twenty-four hours, and I swore this would be the last chapter of my life that I’d share with him. And I meant it.

“Mia. My best friend in the whole wide world,” his tired eyes traveled across my face as if he were looking for something. Or maybe it’s something he wanted me to look for. Then he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I remember the first day we met. Fifteen years ago, to be exact.”

“Are you okay with this?” Danny, my fiancé, whispered in my ear. My eyes shifted to his, which were swirling with concern. He knew the history between Sinclair and me—well, not everything—and let’s just say he was sitting front-row on my ‘I’m never speaking to Sinclair again’ train.

My Mom convinced me to invite him into this piece of my life — “You’ve known each other for so long,” she'd said when I told her there were limited seats for the wedding and he wasn’t going to be in any of them. She still loved him like a son, which yanked my heart in all the terrible ways possible, but I wasn’t capable of changing how she felt about anyone.

“Just say the word and I’ll—”

I smiled, placing my hand on his and squeezing. “I’m okay with this.”

He looked at me as if he were waiting for me to say that I actually wasn’t okay with it, but he disarmed and sat upright in his chair again.

“It was a funny story, actually,” Sinclair laughed. “My dad and I—we’d just moved into the neighborhood. It was summer break, so that meant I was on dog duty. All summer long. I wasn’t quite old enough to get an actual job—only thirteen—but I was old enough to want to make my own money. And my dad thought that was the perfect opportunity to pass along the family business of picking up fresh, hot turds dropped by our constantly constipated pug, Betsy.”

Everyone laughed, including me. I missed Betsy.

He continued, “One day I had taken Betsy for a walk along the main sidewalk, and Mia—who was across the street, by the way—hauled ass, screaming bloody murder down the road. And of course, Betsy chased her because dogs don’t know any better. By the time I caught up, Mia had climbed a tree and was hanging from it like a wild spider monkey.”

I covered my face with my hands as everyone turned to me, laughing.

“Are you telling me the woman I’m about to spend the rest of my life with is afraid of dogs?” Danny asked playfully, a cute little grin on his face when I peeked at him through my fingers.

“Used to be,” I corrected. “I used to be afraid of dogs.”

“But see,” he teased, squinting. “Childhood fears never actually resolve. Once afraid, always afraid.”

At that, I sat up straight, smirking. “Oh—because little Danny still sleeps with a night light?”

“Touche.”

Sinclair sighed happily, as if the memory of that day was playing right in front of him as he looked at me.

“But that’s not all.” he held a finger up, his head unsteady as he swallowed like he was washing down washed-up contents from his stomach. “I remember every milestone in our friendship. The big, the little. The world-altering.”

My stomach dipped, but I ignored it.

“I remember your first heartbreak, and how I had to spoon-feed you ice cream to get you to stop crying. And I remember my first heartbreak, and how you had to spoon-feed me ice cream to get me to stop crying.”

His stare was hung on me, and though everyone else found humor in his words, his face was as serious as I’d ever seen it. Now would definitely be a good time to say I’m not okay with this, so why wasn’t I moving to say anything? Doing something to get Danny’s attention?

“I remember all of our late-night talks and long walks through the park…”

Something inside me started turning. Maybe it was food poisoning. Maybe I just needed to lie down or something. Yeah—that had to be it.

“Our trips to the mountains and drives in the rain…”

I reached for my glass, never taking my eyes off him as I gulped it down in seconds. Is it bad that I secretly wished it was a 750 ml bottle of red wine?

“That day at the lake…”

Time stood still. It was weird, because I was at my dinner rehearsal the night before my wedding sitting beside the man I’m set to spend the rest of my years with, but it felt like I was back there. I felt the heat from the midday September sun shining beautifully on the cold lake water. The fear that I’d felt that day, strumming through me and swelling because I couldn’t swim, was crashing into me like a tsunami.

“I don’t think I can do it.”

Mia stood at the edge of the dock, looking warily at the water Sinclair had jumped into moments ago. She was wearing his shirt, with just underwear underneath, drooping over her like a blanket.

Sinclair dipped his head into the water, clearing his face with both hands when he returned to the surface. “You’ll be fine.”, he said. “Just don’t think about it.”

“I tried not thinking about it!” she shot back. “That’s literally the only thing I keep doing.”

“I told you. Just close your eyes and jump,” he said simply. And that irritated her.

“What if I drown? You know I can’t swim.”

He sighed. “I’m right here. You’re not going to drown. I promise.”

Something in what he said melted her.

“Hang on,” he said, swimming closer to the dock and reaching his arms out toward her. “Jump and I’ll catch you.”

She recoiled. “What?”

“Jump and I’ll catch you,” he repeated, but somehow his words still didn’t register correctly. Or maybe they had, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

“You want me to jump into your arms?”

“Precisely.”

Her heart thudded, everything around her minimizing to a muffled pounding in her ears. She was really doing this. She was jumping into Sinclair’s arms, wearing his shirt, swimming in deep water. She could laugh because this couldn’t actually be real.

She inhaled sharply, shutting her eyes tight. She wanted to count to three, but if she knew when she was going to jump, she would never do it. She blew out a breath, shaking her limbs in an attempt to get the nerves out, which didn’t work at all.

“Anytime now,” Sinclair said.

“Hush,” she said back.

It’s now or never, she thought.

Before there was time to rationalize the movements of her body, it was too late. She was already running, and then all too quickly, there was nothing but air beneath her bare toes.

“You can stop screaming now.”

She peeled her eyes open and—phew. She’d made it. And better yet, she was alive.

“Now was that so bad?” he asked, grinning in the way that always made her stomach flutter.

“Uh…” she started, suddenly overcome with the overwhelming realization that she and Sinclair were just a breath apart. His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, the bare skin of his chest touching her clothed chest.

Oh my Henry, Mia thought.

“Yes, actually. Still as bad as I thought.”

He snorted. “You’re such a cat. Terrified of dogs and even more of water.”

“Hey—I’m not scared of anything,” she lied.

“Is that so?” His smirk took over his face, challenging her. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind going deeper.”

“Don’t you dare—”

She tried to protest, but he was much faster. She hated that he was always faster and better at everything. He swam farther from the dock, Mia’s arms tightening around his neck each centimeter outward they went.

“This is the perfect amount of deepness,” he said teasingly. “No safety under your feet and no friggin’ idea what’s swimming beneath you.”

“Sinclair,” she warned, and he laughed. “That’s so not funny.”

“It so is.”

“You just like being mean.”

“Or maybe I just like the feeling of you holding onto me.”

They both went silent. Mia didn't know what he was thinking, but she knew what was looping over and over in her mind.

Maybe I just like the feeling of you holding onto me.

The air thickened, and there was something there — something in his eyes as he looked at her. She didn’t know exactly what it was, or why it was. But it was a look she’d never seen from him before.

And then his eyes dropped down to her lips, sending shockwaves throughout her entire body. Her insides were lighting up like the night sky on the Fourth of July, colorful and alive and bright.

“Hey—your lips are blue.” he breathed out a laugh, but his face straightened again almost immediately.

His head dipped down, his lips falling softly onto hers and…

She was in heaven. There was no way to tell whose heart was pounding against her ribs—maybe Mia’s, maybe Sinclair’s—but the vibration from it pulsated through her.

He pulled back, grinning crazily as he said, “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.”

Her stomach danced, a smile finding her lips. “You…did?”

“You couldn’t tell?”, he asked, but she didn’t know what he was talking about. And it showed in the way her brows crinkled together, which made him chuckle. Then he said, “I’ve liked you since the first day we met. I liked you when you were in that tree, and when you were crying on my shoulder over Dustin and even when I was crying on yours over Tiff. Nobody has captured my heart like you, Mia.”

I blinked the memory away, along with the hot tears threatening to paint my face.

Why would he do this to me? Why now? I mean what was the point of all this? He had every chance on planet earth to speak up, and he chose today of all days? In a couple hours from now, I was marrying Danny Drifter, and I couldn’t forfeit that because of a memory.

“I remember, Mia,” he said, giving me those same eyes he did on that day. “How could I ever forget?”

I shook my head in disbelief, dropping it like dead weight into my palms.

No, I thought, please.

I swallowed, painfully aware of the thick, strained cloud hovering over us. I felt like I could barely breathe, but I kept trying anyway. I glanced at Danny, a pang in my chest as his jaw clenched and unclenched while he glared at Sinclair. He was about to ruin the one thing he hadn’t had a chance to ruin, and it was all my fault.

“And I’m sorry,” my eyes shot back to him when he spoke again. His face was saying a million more things than his words ever did in all the years I’d known him. “I’m so sorry for not realizing sooner what a great woman you are.”

Oh no.

Danny slid to the edge of his seat, propping his arm up on the table and picking at his lip, groaning impatiently.

“I didn’t think I would be able to stand here tonight, pretending to be happy for you because—God.” his hand flew through his hair, laughing humorlessly. “I’m not. I’m freaking miserable, Mia.”

He stepped around the podium, catching himself with his free hand on the side as he stumbled.

“Sinclair—”

He cut me off, saying, “I shouldn’t say this—I know. And I honestly don't know what the hell I'm even talking about anymore. But I love you, Mia McCoy. I haven’t stopped loving you since I left and it’s gonna kill me if I wake up tomorrow not knowing if there’s still a chance.”

“Alright—you’re done!” Danny stood angrily, pointing a warning finger at him.

The atmosphere was heavy, quiet, as all movement came to a halt. My mouth went dry, and I was pretty sure that I had died and was living in hell.

This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.

“So tell me, Mia. Tell me that you choose him, and I’ll leave,” his eyes locked me in place, longing and desperation alive in them.

“Security!” Danny called, hostilely scanning the venue, his face twisted in a scowl.

“But if you tell me—right here, right now—that you’ve been miserable like I’ve been miserable, and that you don’t want to go another day without knowing if this thing between us can be real, then you have me. All of me. And I mean it this time.”

I took a shattering breath.

That day at the lake, when he kissed me, all I wanted was for him to say it. I looked for it in his confession, in the way his eyes kept magically finding mine at prom though he decided to go with someone else, and in our last hug before he left across the country for college. I looked for it and never found it.

And nine years later, when he moved back home, I looked for it then, too. I sat at Oliver’s Pub, waiting for him, because that was going to be the night when I finally said it. When I finally stopped being afraid of what could go wrong if we crossed that line, and instead excited for what could go right. But he never showed. And I made a promise to myself that night, as Danny approached me at the bar with his charming smile and cheesy pick-up lines, that I will never let Sinclair Bayou break my heart again.

“I can’t…” I choked out, my throat on fire. This time, I didn’t fight the tears.

“Come on—give me something,” his voice cracked, pleading in a way that rocked me.

“Sinclair, I—”

I started, but security made it to the podium and was already leading him away.

“Okay—alright!” he surrendered, his glass shattering on the ground as he yanked his arms from their grip. “I’m going!”

He started towards the exit, and with one last glance over his shoulder, he was gone.

“Mia,” Danny bent down and grabbed my shoulders, his eyes searching mine. “Are you okay?”

I couldn’t respond, ripping my eyes away because I couldn’t look at him, either. I was far from okay. The destruction was over—the fire had been put out, so why did something inside me still burn?

I fell back in my chair, tears streaking my makeup. I needed a drink. Multiple drinks.

Annalise, Danny’s sister, picked her way through the lingering silence to the podium, stepping over the spilled champagne. She swallowed, clearing her throat as she raised her glass in a toast. “To Danny and Mia.”

A nervous titter escaped her lips as the bewildered audience stared blankly at her.

“Cheers!” Annalise said anyway, a mechanical smile on her face that disappeared with the champagne in her glass as she chugged it.

Cheers.