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Unforgiven(89)

By:Rebecca Shea

“You can’t be nervous.” I laugh at him.
“Hell yeah, I can. I mean, I’m not nervous to get married. I’m nervous about standing in front of all those people. We should have just eloped.”
“And deny Reagan the wedding of her dreams? I wouldn’t have let you do that to her.”
“This is why you’re my best friend, Matty. You keep my ass in line.” I laugh and shake my head at him.
“Always.” I reach out to shake his hand and pull him into a half-hug. “I’m really happy for you two.”
“Thanks, man.”
The pastor pops his head in the door. “You men ready?”
“Let’s do this,” Landon says quietly, looking between me and his other groomsman, Rob, Reagan’s brother. We file out of the room and into the packed church, taking our positions on the stairs of the altar. Standing quietly, Landon focuses on the huge wooden doors at the back of the church. I notice him taking a couple of deep breaths as he rocks back and forth from foot to foot, flexing and unflexing his hands.
The organ starts playing and, on cue, the doors in the back of the church open, spilling bright sunlight into the dim chapel. Everyone stands up and turns around to look at the back of the church and Landon glances over at me.
“Ready?” I mouth to him, and he nods with a giant smile. Reagan’s friend from college and bridesmaid, Lauren, begins her walk down the church aisle. As she nears the altar, I see Lindsay step into view. I hold my breath as she makes the long walk down the aisle. You can see her bright blue eyes first, followed by a giant smile on her face. I’ve never in my life seen a more beautiful woman. Her skin is tan and her blonde hair hangs in long waves down her back.
Landon and Lindsay share an affectionate smile and it reminds me how special their relationship is. As I look to the back of the church, Reagan steps into view, and I can hear audible gasps. As Reagan reaches the altar on her father’s arm, Landon steps down to greet them. I steal a glance at Lindsay, who wipes a tear from her cheek while still wearing a genuine smile.
The ceremony is brief but heartfelt. Vows are exchanged, but I pay little attention as my focus is on Lindsay and how much I truly miss her. My heart aches for her. I make a promise to myself to talk to her tonight—to apologize for not supporting her. I wonder if the outcome for her would have been different had I been more supportive.
With a kiss and the confirmation of husband and wife from the pastor, everyone claps for Landon and Reagan. As happy as I am for my best friend, my heart is hollow without Lindsay. We spend the next hour taking pictures while the rest of the guests wait for us at the reception hall. I keep looking for a brief minute to pull Lindsay aside and say hello, start the conversation, but before I know it, she’s in the limo with her mom and stepfather and is gone again.
The reception is a cluster of activity. Greeting and talking to guests while making sure Melissa is not ignored. We agreed to come as friends, but I can imagine how this looks to Lindsay or anyone else, for that matter. It amazes me how fast the evening passes because, in my head, time stands still. I watch Lindsay gracefully move from table to table, catching up with old friends and family. Her smile is warm and inviting, and she genuinely looks happy.
I promise myself I won’t leave tonight without talking to her, even though my heart tells me she’s moved on.




 
 
The deejay announces, “Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Landon Christianson.” Landon and Reagan take to the wooden dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife to the applause of the crowd. I’ve never seen my brother so happy, and my heart feels genuine happiness for the first time in a long time.#p#分页标题#e#
I lean against the wall with my glass of seltzer water and take in the beautiful ballroom. Everything is elegant and perfect, of course. I’d expect nothing else with Reagan’s tastes in style. From silk-covered chairs to enormous bouquets on every table, this is a wedding out of Modern Bride magazine.
“They’re good together.” His voice pulls me from my thoughts. I turn to find Matt leaning against the wall beside me. His tuxedo fits perfectly to his tall, lean body. This is the first time he’s talked to me since the day I left for treatment. Even as best man and maid of honor, we’ve not spoken until now. We stole glances at each other at the rehearsal dinner last night—neither of us brave enough to speak to the other. I should have known it would be Matt to make the first move—I’ve always been the weaker one.
“They are.” I smile and watch my brother and new sister-in-law as they hold each other and dance. “I’m just happy that he’s happy,” I admit.