Life Support (The Breathe Series Book 2) (13 page)

ON OUR WAY OUT of the hotel, we drop down a few floors to get my mom since she is riding with us. I lightly knock on the door, and she opens it as if she were waiting by the peephole, anxiously expecting us to arrive.

“Oh, Olivia! You look so beautiful!” Mom cries, covering her mouth in awe.

Olivia is dressed in a beautiful, pale-pink, knee length dress. The front covers her modestly, but the back of the dress… The back is open completely. It’s incredibly sexy without showing a lot, and the color offsets her blue eyes and brown hair so well. She looks like an angel.
My angel.

“Yes, she does look stunning, doesn’t she, Mom,” I comment as I gingerly pull Olivia to my side and give her a soft kiss on her temple.

“Thank you for saying that, Mimi. I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress for weeks now. You look lovely too. Navy is a beautiful color on you,” Olivia replies solemnly.

“All right, ladies. We need to get going. Travis will have my hide if I’m late. I’ve already gotten a handful of texts from him and he’s almost starting to freak out.”

The women laugh as we make our way out of the room and down to the waiting car service.

The drive out to Issaquah is quieter than I would like, no doubt due to Olivia remaining a bit distant. Mom makes small talk about the beautiful scenery and what an exquisite area Seattle is. For once, I’m glad for my mom’s constant chatter, because sitting in silence with Olivia would be unbearable.

Forty-five minutes later, we arrive at the wedding venue. It’s a beautiful rose garden that’s naturally decorated with rows and rows of colorful rose bushes in various stages of opening. In the distance, there is a rustic, wood arbor draped in white, pink, purple, and yellow roses and copious amounts of greenery. White chairs encircle the arbor on all sides, and low-hanging flowers line the main aisle. The weather gods are with Travis and Lucy today because the sky is a bright blue and not a cloud is to be seen. Off to the side is a large, white tent that will host the reception, and on the opposite side of the ceremony site is a quaint house where the wedding party is gathered.

Before meeting up with the other groomsmen, I walk Mom and Olivia over to the reception tent. After they’ve taken a seat to wait until the wedding starts, I bend to give my mom a kiss on the cheek and then turn my attention to Olivia.

“Are you all right? You’ve been really quiet. I need to know that we’re good. Are we good, Liv?” I ask.

Olivia doesn’t look at me when she quietly says, “Yeah, I’m fine. Wish Travis well for me, okay?”

“Yeah…okay,” I reply, matching her pensive mood. “I’ll do that. I’ll catch you later, baby. I love you.” And with that, I give her a soft kiss on her temple before turning to leave.

Ninety minutes later, I’ve managed to help calm Travis down (thanks to a little help from Jack Daniel’s), get myself dressed, and help Travis with his tie. The groomsmen have taken way too many pictures together prior to the ceremony and not once did I grumble or complain. Again, thank you, Jack Daniel’s.

We have some time before we need to line up for the ceremony, so I take the opportunity to seek out my girl. Despite what she’s saying, I know that Olivia is still upset with me over this whole marriage thing. I peek in the tent and see neither my mom nor Olivia. I walk out the back side of the tent and find Olivia seated on a bench near an ornate water fountain. As I move toward her, I watch Olivia’s posture change from slumped shoulders to more of a straight back. As if she senses me, she turns to look over her shoulder, shading her eyes from the bright sun with her hand.

“So, what do you think of my tux? Pretty spiffy, huh?” I smile, running my palms down the front of my suit jacket.

“I think you look very handsome, Owen. Travis is going to have some competition up on the altar with you.” She pulls on my tux jacket and tilts her head up to look at me. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Thanks,” I mutter quietly.

This wall between us is killing me. Every time I see her frown, it’s like a punch in the gut knowing that I’m to blame for her melancholy mood.

I bend to sit next to Olivia on the bench and take her hand in mine. “While everyone is busy looking at Lucy, I’ll be looking at you, beautiful,” I say, gently kissing her knuckles. “You’re the only one I see, Olivia.”

Olivia lets out a heavy sigh and rests her head on my shoulder. I see her hand go up to her face—I’m guessing to wipe away a stray tear. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and hold her. I don’t know how long we sit like this, but I need to feel her close to me. I’m almost desperate for it.

“I love you Owen,” she whispers faintly, so much so that I almost didn’t hear it.

“I love you too, Olivia. Nothing will ever change that, and I won’t let anything keep me from being able to spend every day of my life letting you know that,” I whisper into her hairline.

Except getting married,
I think to myself.

Olivia starts to straighten and sit up, but I pull her back to my embrace and use two fingers to lift her chin up to look at me.

“I know what you’re thinking. I mean it. I intend to spend every day of my future with you. If there is something I’m not one hundred percent on board with yet that you need to happen, I guess I’m going to have to take a good, hard look at what I need to do to get there. But I swear to you, Olivia, I’m not ever letting you go.”

Olivia nods her head and wipes away another tear.

I lean down and kiss her, softly at first, then I bring my hand up to cup her face and the kiss deepens. I twist to my side and place my hand on her waist. When I pull back fractionally to catch my breath, Olivia blurts out, “I love you. Thank you so much for saying that. I love you so much.”

I smile at her, relief flooding my body in such an intense wave that I almost become lightheaded. “I lo—”

“Fuck, Owen, there you are! Let’s go!” Marc is standing six yards away, looking down at his watch.

Olivia and I stand to turn and look at him. The irritation on my face is evident. In response, Marc looks contrite.

“Oh, hey, Olivia. Sorry about that. You were having a moment, weren’t you?”

I can sense Olivia glancing up at me while I look at Mark, seething with silent irritation.

“Well, we need to get ready. People are showing up and the wedding will begin soon.” After Marc makes his declaration, he walks away.

I turn my attention back to Olivia. Then I take her hand in mine and tenderly place a kiss on her open palm. “As I was saying, I lo—”

“There you are!” my mom calls out as she rounds the corner from the reception tent.

“You’ve
got
to be fucking
kidding
me!” I exclaim with only Olivia being able to hear.

Olivia covers her mouth in a chuckle as my mom continues down the path toward us.

“I got so distracted looking at all the beautiful flowers and talking… Well, I lost track of time and you, Olivia!” Without skipping a beat, my mom comes to my side. “And don’t you look handsome! Don’t I have a hot son, Olivia?”

Oh good Lord, my mom is trying to be cool.
It’s not working
.

“He’s incredibly handsome. I think I’ll keep him,” Olivia hums with a genuine smile.

I close my eyes and relax my shoulders, relishing the compliment and the meaning behind it. She may have needed to hear my willingness to take all measures to keep her in my life, but I needed to hear that she still wants me to.

“Ahem.” Marc clears his throat, appearing out of nowhere. “I really hate to ruin this moment—again, evidently—but we need to get going, Owen. Travis has the wedding planner pulling her hair out. We need to get this guy married. Now. And Olivia,” he continues, looking her way, “Charley just got here. She’s saving seats for you and Mimi.”

Olivia nods. I pull her into my arms and give her a gentle kiss before whispering into her hair, “I’ll be watching only you. I love you, Liv.”

As the wedding party gathers in the house, readying themselves for the ceremony, I have a moment to observe Travis. I would have put money on the fact that he would have asked me to help talk him off the ledge, but he’s exceptionally cool. There’s no hint of nervousness. No inclination of a second thought. The only thing I see in his eyes is excitement. He’s ready to marry Lucy, and honestly, I’m excited for him. Marriage may not be my thing, but I’m sure as hell not going to strong-arm someone else away from the institution.

After all Travis and I have been through, I’m happy to find us both in a great place. He’s a better man for having met Lucy, and I’m struck with the realization of how much better I am with Olivia in my life.

The music starts and we all stand in line, per the instructions from the harried wedding planner. She comes through with a lint roller one last time, making sure the groomsmen’s tuxes are flawless and the bridesmaids’ flowers are at the proper height.

“You ready to get married, man?!” I exclaim, gripping Travis’s shoulders.

“So ready. I cannot wait to see Lucy and call her my wife. I’m the luckiest man alive,” Travis replies with as much sincerity as I’ve ever seen from him. It’s pretty fucking cool.

The harpist and violinist begin playing and the wedding planner wordlessly motions for Travis to walk down the aisle to seat first Lucy’s family and then his own. The music changes and, suddenly, we’re up.
Showtime.

I watch Travis smile at the guests on his way down the aisle and proudly stand at the end, waiting for the rest of the wedding party to join him. Marc and I slowly march the narrow walkway toward Travis and it feels eerily similar to that of a funeral. I’m a little uncomfortable. With a smile plastered on my face, I take my place beside Travis and Mark. My eyes search the sea of guests for Olivia and find her in seconds. She’s looking at me, and as soon as our eyes lock, I give her a wink. Instantly, I relax.

The rest of the wedding party take their turn down the aisle, and finally, the officiate asks all the guests to stand. Lucy has arrived.

The traditional wedding march starts to play and Lucy, accompanied by both her mother and father, walks the final few steps to her groom. The guests all turn back, their eyes riveted, to watch Lucy approach, but I continue to watch Olivia. She quickly dabs a tear from the corner of her eye, and I realize how much my words have hurt her. I know she’s happy for Lucy and Travis, but I also know she’s a little sad for herself. As if she knows she is consuming my thoughts, Olivia looks back over her shoulder at me and finds my eyes only on her—just like I said I would do. She smiles softly before I mouth, “I love you,” to her and she mouths it back to me.

The ceremony goes off without a hitch. Marc and I considered playing the ‘who has the rings’ game but thought better of it when it came time to hand them over. Travis and Lucy exchange their vows to love, honor, and cherish each other in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, and promise to love only each other. While the vows are being recited, I keep my focus on Olivia as if willing her to understand that every word they are saying to each other are words I am silently saying to her. Olivia looks at me on occasion and smiles, and that’s all I need.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the officiate declares with a booming voice, “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Travis and Lucy Cunningham.”

The guests erupt with clapping and shouts of congratulations, but of all the things that were said by the officiate today, those last words stick with me.
Mr. and Mrs. Travis and Lucy Cunningham.
She’s not Lucy Knight anymore. She’s a Cunningham now. She’s Travis’s Lucy. She’s someone Travis can claim. They’re their own family.

For a moment, I feel an indescribable and completely foreign feeling in my chest. I blink back tears that threaten to make themselves known and get me razzed by Marc for the rest of my natural life. I manage to compose myself and make it to the picture area without being found out.

Almost an hour later, I find Olivia, Charley, and my mom in the reception tent, deep in discussion about the appropriateness of Lucy’s mom wearing a black gown to the wedding.

“Excuse me, ladies,” I interrupt. “Olivia? May I borrow you for a moment?” I hold out my hand with a smile.

Without hesitation, Olivia takes my proffered hand and walks with me out of the tent, leaving Charley and Mimi in our wake.

“What’s up, handsome?” Olivia’s mood is clearly lighter. “You looked so nice up—”

I wrap a hand around the back of Olivia’s neck and bring her face to mine, kissing her softly, taking her breath away.

“Whoa. Not that I’m complaining, but what was that all about?” Olivia asks curiously.

“That was about me being hopelessly and madly in love with you. I can’t get enough of you, Olivia Burke.”
Olivia Burke. Olivia Burke. Olivia Maxwell. Olivia Burke Maxwell,
I say to myself, trying the names on for size.
What’s gotten in to me?

Olivia’s brow furrows seemingly confused by my random declaration. “Are you okay?” she asks, shaking her head and looking me in the eye.

“I’m awesome. Listen, I have to do round two of the whole picture thing with the group, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. Okay?”

“Okay, baby,” she replies. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Travis asked Marc and me, as his best men, to each give a speech during the reception. After some discussion at the club last night and a few too many beers to think it through, we decided to have distinctly different speeches. We agreed that one should be funny and the other touching. After a little arts and crafts session at the bar, we literally drew straws for speeches. Marc picked the longer of the straws, earning himself the funny speech. Of course, that’s the one I had all ready to go. I’m totally winging this, but I’m not nervous or worried at all. I know what I want to say—what I need to say. I just hope Olivia will realize that I’m really talking to her.

When I tap the live mic, it elicits a mild screech that inadvertently gets the room’s attention. The guests quiet down when they see me standing at the head table. I clear my throat.

“Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Owen Maxwell, and lucky for him, Travis has been one of my closest friends for well over twenty years. In that time, we rode our bikes together, built forts together, played football together, and
tried
to pick up girls together. He and I have had many good times, a handful of bad times, a few too many drunk times, and a considerable number of times I promised not to talk about.