“That’s perfect, do you want to maybe turn towards me?” the photographer called out, startling us both. Sam pulled his hand back suddenly. Instantly, I missed it.
“Um,” he muttered, before turning more fully towards the photographer. “Maybe something less... intimate?”
My cheeks burned bright with blush. From where she was standing with her mother, Charlotte shot me a significant look. Luckily, it was her wedding. There would be plenty to keep her from asking me awkward questions about Sam.
Following the photographer’s instructions, I looped my arm through Sam’s, leaning against him a little as the summer light made his tanned skin glow.
We should talk, I knew that. But now was not the right time for that, either. Sam needed to be calm for his speech, not emotional from whatever we might say to one another.
“How long are you staying after today?” I asked, suddenly realizing that I didn’t know.
Sam frowned, like he hadn’t quite realized that Pat’s wedding spelled the end of him needing to be in Lunengrove. “I don’t know yet,” he answered. I could tell it was truthful. Still, the idea of Sam leaving reminded me that this - us - just couldn’t happen. Lunengrove was it for me and it really wasn’t for Sam. The problem we’d had from the start.
“A bit longer,” he added. “A few more weeks, probably. Training camp starts then, so I’ll probably head straight there.” It had been so long since I’d even heard a reference to ‘training camp’. It seemed to solidify our differences even more.
It made me miss Sam before he had even left!
Part of me wanted to blurt out that I wished he wouldn’t go. But I couldn’t be that unreasonable. Sam’s life was in Salt Lake City, just as mine was here. I cared about him too much to ask him to give that up for me. I always had.
Shaking my head slightly, I patted at Sam’s arm. The photographer seemed to be moving away, moving on to take shots of the cars which would carry us from the church to Charlotte’s reception venue.
“I’d better go,” I offered, apologetically. “But I’ll see you at the reception.” I was a little glad we wouldn’t be seated together. And yet, sad at the same time. I wanted to be there for Sam, help keep his mind off his nerves.
But that wasn’t my job. Not anymore.
Chapter Fifteen
Sam
“You’re not still crying, are you?” I asked teasingly, standing next to my mom while we waited. I couldn’t exactly blame her. The wedding had been lovely. There was no other word for it. Pat and Charlotte looked incredibly happy, just as they should be on their wedding day. So, of course, mom had cried.
Dad, too, I was pretty sure had cried a bit. He was currently making sure everything was going smoothly for the newly-married couple’s arrival. Mom and I had already found our way into the room with all the tables.
It was that strange in-between time, waiting for the couple to arrive and watching as the room slowly filled with guests. It was a nice opportunity for me to chat with mom. And maybe help to forget about my nerves when it came to the speech I had to give.
She sniffed, but smiled brightly despite the slight redness of her eyes. “I’m done crying,” she promised. “At least for now.” She twinkled at me, making me chuckle. No doubt there would be more tears before the event was all over.
“Helena looks lovely, doesn’t she?” she asked, glancing sideways between me and the crowd. If she’d asked, I could have told her that Helena wasn’t there. She’d gone to make sure Charlotte had everything she needed.
“She does,” I agreed easily. There was no reason not to. Helena did look lovely. The bridesmaid dress that Charlotte had picked suited Helena, highlighting the color of her hair and eyes. But I didn’t think that mom was bringing it up because she wanted to gossip. Not about clothing, anyway.
Reaching to take a sip of my wine, I raised an eyebrow at my mom. “What are you wanting to ask?” I knew her well enough to know that there was something.
She turned her steady, sympathetic gaze toward me. Mom had always been one of my biggest supporters, no matter what it was that I wanted to do. Even, sometimes, when I didn’t know what I wanted to do.
“Well, I suppose whether you really think that the two of you couldn’t have overcome your circumstances?” Mom asked. “It never seemed to me as if you were incompatible. And how well you’ve got on since meeting up again seems to prove that.”
She was right. Helena and I had never been incompatible. It was our ambitions in life that had caused conflict. And that hadn’t changed. I lived in Salt Lake and Helena lived here. We were miles apart, countries apart.
“It seems unfair of me to ask that of her,” I told mom. I had asked Helena once. Or rather, I had presumed. She’d chosen herself over me. I couldn’t even blame her; I had done the same thing. Or well, I’d chosen hockey, she’d chosen law.
Helena was happy here. And I was happy somewhere else.
Mom hummed. In a way, I suppose it showed how much I’d grown up. This time around, I didn’t presume Helena would uproot her whole life to be with me. And I knew that it hadn’t been very fair of me to think she would last time.
“But isn’t that her choice to make?” my mom asked. “Is it very fair to assume you know what she’ll say?”
I got her point, but I didn’t agree. Yes, of course, it was Helena’s choice, but she wasn’t going to choose me over everything else in her life. Nor should she. Helena
