The Right Choice(20)
Author: Carly Phillips

“I planned this wedding and nothing has gone as I wanted… No one has given a single thought to my feelings, but this…” She lifted the lace edge of the gown. “This was mine.” She groaned. “Or it was supposed to be.”

“Carly,” he began carefully, “think about what you just said.”

“So much for the perfect wedding.”

She wasn’t listening. He grabbed her by both arms, as if he were grabbing his last chance to reach her. “The perfect wedding won’t change the fact that both people involved are far from the perfect couple. All the planning in the world won’t change that.”

The look of pain on her face almost destroyed him.

“How dare you?”

He swore silently. “I dare because you don’t. Listen to yourself. Nothing about this wedding has turned out the way you wanted it. No one, including my brother, who I love but who can also be an ass, has given a damn about your needs.”

She tried to jerk her arms free, but he held on fast. “What does that tell you?” he asked.

“That this is none of your business.” She wrenched free from his grasp.

“You’re right, but I can’t sit around and watch this farce any longer. If I don’t point out what you can’t face, what kind of friend am I?” He shoved his fingers through his hair. What kind of brother am I?

She cocked her head to one side. Though her eyes remained wet and her pain was almost tangible, he sensed she was listening. At last.

“Look, sweetheart, you’re two different people with two different personalities. It doesn’t make either of you wrong or a bad person. That’s just the way it is and it’s time you faced the truth.”

“What gives you the right to pass judgment?” she asked.

“Not a damn thing. But I love my brother and I… care about you. Marriage is forever. Promise me you’ll think about that.”

“And do what? Break off my engagement a week before the wedding?” Her voice cracked under the strain.

“If that’s what feels right, then yes.”

“I made a commitment.” She paced the small area before turning on him. “Do you even know what the word means?”

“Carly…” he said, warning her with his tone. “Don’t make this personal.”

“And what is it but personal? How can someone like you give me advice? What do you know about the long haul? About sticking with someone, for better or for worse?” She paused for air. “When things get tough, there’s always that first flight out, isn’t there?”

“I’ll ignore the insult. We’re discussing you, remember? For better or worse doesn’t apply yet, sweetheart. And I suggest you get the hell out before it does.” He exhaled, unable to believe he’d said the words on his tongue since day one.

Her eyes narrowed. “You have no right.”

“Maybe not, but if you marry my brother, you’re running the same way you think I am. I haven’t figured out why yet but I recognize the signs. Only difference between you and me is, when you wake up one morning with your heart and soul in pieces, you and your so-called commitment are stuck for good.”

He glanced at Carly, expecting her to come at him swinging. Instead she sat in a chair and wrapped her arms around herself like a lost child. The sight pierced his heart. Though he wanted to hold her, she probably wouldn’t let him near.

Just as well, he told himself. Now that he’d had his say, the rest was up to her. “You’ve got some decisions to make before it’s too late.” He drew a deep breath. “You say you’re tired of compromise? Prove it.”

She raised her head from where her chin rested on her knees. Her eyes mirrored her soul. Pain, anger, hurt, anguish… and myriad other emotions Mike couldn’t decipher melded in the dark depths.

“Do me a favor?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Anything.” He took two steps toward her.

“Get the hell out and leave me alone.”

* * *

Juliette slid into the seat across from Carly at a small restaurant on Madison Avenue. “You could have faxed your column in or dropped it off at the office.” She glanced back at the cases of baked goods, muffins, breads and scones. “But I’d much rather meet for food. I’m starving.”

She shook the green linen napkin out in front of her and placed it on her lap. “Orange pekoe tea, please,” she said to a passing waitress.

The younger woman paused. “Anything for you?” she asked, turning to Carly.

“Coffee.”

“Chamomile tea,” Juliette said. She leaned closer to Carly. “Your hands are shaking. The last thing you need is caffeine.”

Carly glanced at the waitress and shrugged.

“Chamomile’s fine.” She wasn’t here for food, just motherly advice and maybe a hug.

The waitress replaced her pad and walked away.

Juliette narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on? You gave in too easily.”

“Why is it everyone thinks I’m a lapdog? I make my own decisions. I even put on a different shade of eyeshadow this morning,” Carly said, defiance in her voice.

“I said you’re too compliant, meaning I’ve never known you to back down from an argument with me in your life.”

Carly sighed. “That’s professional.”

“And you’re damn good at what you do. So while I was making an observation that something’s wrong because you’re not behaving like your confident self, someone else obviously sees you differently.” Juliette leaned back for the waitress to set down their cups, choice of tea and hot water. “Who?”

Carly needed to unburden herself with a desperation she’d never known before. And she trusted Juliette to listen without passing judgment and to offer the comfort she needed. “His name is Mike,” she said softly. “Mike Novack.”

“Peter’s…”

“Brother,” Carly finished for her.

“Good Lord, when you dive in, you really do it with both feet.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” She drew a deep breath. “Jules… I don’t think I can marry Peter,” Carly said in a whisper. Then, to keep busy, she unwrapped the tea bag with shaking hands and let it steep in the steaming water.

Her friend braced her chin in her hands. “Go on. I don’t want to influence you one way or another until I hear what’s going through your mind. Keep talking.”