Chapter Twelve
1050 Words
Marcus’s words hung in the night air.
“I don’t know if I’m about to marry the right person.”
For a second, Lucy just stared at him.
Two days.
Two days to the wedding.
And this is what he wanted to say?
She took a slow breath, steadying herself.
“Don’t,” she said quietly.
Marcus frowned slightly. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t do this.”
His jaw tightened. “I’m just being honest.”
“No,” she shook her head, her voice firmer now.
“You’re being confused. And you’re dragging me into it.”
He stepped closer. “Lucy…”
“You don’t get to stand here two days before your wedding and question everything because we kissed.”
His expression shifted, guilt, frustration, something else.
“It’s not just the kiss,” he said. It’s everything. Seeing you again. Being around you. It made me realize…”
“Realize what?” She cut in. “That you still have unresolved feelings? That’s not some grand revelation, Marcus. That’s unfinished business.”
He fell silent.
She continued, her voice shaking now but steady in intention.
“You don’t get to rewrite history because it’s convenient. You ended us. Over a text.” Her eyes burned, she didn’t look away. “You made your choice.”
“That was different,” she insisted.
“No,” she said firmly. “It wasn’t.”
The wind lifted her hair around her shoulders, but she stood still.
“You don’t get to question your wedding because I’m here. If you’re unsure, that has nothing to do with me. That’s between you and Britney.”
He looked at her like she had just taken something away from him.
“Lucy,” he said, stepping closer.
Before she could react, his hands reached for hers.
Not forceful. Not dramatic.
Just instinct.
He held them gently, his thumbs brushing against her knuckles, his body leaning slightly toward her as if proximity alone could undo what she’d just said.
“You don’t understand,” he murmured. “Seeing you again…it’s not that simple for me.”
Lucy felt the warmth of his hands and immediately knew how it would look.
How it would look.
Inside the lounge, the door had opened.
Josh had stepped out, scanning the patio for Lucy.
And there they were.
From where he stood, all he could see was Marcus standing close, too close. Hands wrapped around Lucy’s. Their bodies angled inward. Private. Intimate.
Josh didn’t hear words.
He didn’t hear Lucy say, “Marcus, no.”
He didn’t see the hesitation in her eyes.
He only saw what his worst fear had been whispering for days.
His jaw tightened.
Of course.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, disappointment settling heavy in his chest. He didn’t wait for clarification. Didn’t call her name.
He turned.
And walked away.
Back outside, Lucy pulled her hands free.
“This is exactly what I mean,” she said firmly, stepping back. “This cannot happen.”
Marcus’s hands fell to his sides.
“You can’t hold my hands like that,” she continued. “You can’t stand this close to me and say you’re unsure about your wedding. That’s not fair. Not to her. And to me.”
“She loves you,” Lucy continued softly. “She just told me how you helped her rebuild herself. How safe you make her feel.”
Marcus’s expression faltered.
“She deserves someone who isn’t standing outside a bar wondering if he made a mistake.”
The words hit.
“And I deserve,” Lucy added, her voice lowering, “to not be someone’s doubt.”
Silence settled between them.
He looked away first.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly.
“You already did,” she replied. “Years ago.”
That one landed deeper.
Lucy swallowed, forcing herself to stay strong.
“What happened between us on the yacht shouldn’t have happened. And it won’t happen again.”
Marcus looked back at her. “So that’s it?”
“That’s it,” she said.
He stared at her like he wanted her to say something different.
She didn’t.
“I’m going back inside,” she said finally. “And you should too.”
She turned and walked toward the door.
When she stepped inside, her eyes instinctively searched the room.
Josh wasn’t there.
Her stomach dropped.
She scanned the bar. The tables. The stage.
Nothing.
A strange unease crept up her spine.
Across the room, Britney laughed loudly at something Jasmine said, completely unaware that the ground beneath her wedding was quietly cracking.
Lucy stood there, frozen for a moment.
For the first time that night, the consequences felt real.
The next morning, the air around the resort felt different.
Lucy felt it the moment she stepped out of her room.
The sky was clear. The ocean was calm. Staff moving around preparing for the wedding event.
But something felt… off.
She saw him near the garden walkway.
Josh.
He was speaking to one of the coordinators, hands in pockets, posture relaxed.
Or pretending to be.
“Josh,” she called out softly as she approached.
He turned.
And smiled.
Polite.
Measured.
The kind of smile you give a stranger.
“Morning.”
No Nickname.
No warmth in his eyes.
“Morning,” She replied carefully. “I didn’t see you last night after…”
“Yeah,” he cut in lightly. “I left.”
Just that.
“Oh,” she said. “I was looking for you.”
“Were you?” His tone wasn’t sharp. Just…neutral.
Too neutral.
A pause stretched between them.
“So,” he continued, glancing at his watch. “Big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Crazy.”
Another pause.
Normally he would've teased her. Asked if she was nervous about performing. Made some joke about stealing her away for a break.
Now he just stood there.
Distant.
“I should get back,” he said. “We’re finalizing seating arrangements.”
She swallowed. “Okay.”
He gave her a small nod and walked past her.
Didn’t touch her arm.
Didn’t linger.
Lucy stood there feeling like the air had been pulled out of her lungs.
- Writer
