The Rehearsals Page 12

  He flipped through more memories of Megs to help bridge the forgiveness gap and landed on one of his favorites.

  One morning, not long after he’d passed the bar and made it through his first year as an associate at Prescott and Prescott, he was inexplicably edgy as he knotted his tie in the bathroom mirror. Sensing his nerves, Megs hopped up and sat on the counter so he was looking at her face instead of his reflection. She put her arms around him and pulled him close. “You’re the best person I know—not to mention the best-looking. And you’re going to do great things over there as you. Not as the boss’s son.”

  Megs’s pep talks were better than the meditation app on his phone and he’d immediately felt his breathing regulate, his heart slow. The tremble of his hands stilled.

  But he couldn’t wrap his head around that Megs being the same one who’d slept with Leo. And every time he tried to come to grips with her deception, he’d see it from a painful new angle.

  “You seem pensive. Looking for words of advice, Spare Parts?” Brody asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  What he wanted was to talk to John about the move to Missouri, but he was nervous that doing something right for Megs meant doing something wrong for his dad, and regardless of how he handled this situation, he wasn’t going to make anyone happy—which wouldn’t get him and Megs out of this time trap. “Looking to give any?” Tom asked his brother, mostly to stall for time while he tried to figure out what to do about Missouri.

  “God, no.” Brody leaned back and snorted. “Remember how I used to solve Rubik’s Cubes by coloring the squares in with a Sharpie so they all matched? That savvy logic doesn’t apply to marital problems.”

  The ice cubes in John’s scotch clinked together as he set down his tumbler. “Well, if it’s advice you’re looking for—”

  “Actually, Dad,” Tom said, quickly cutting him off. He didn’t want to hear the speech; it grew more offensive with each listen. “I’m good.”

  “You sure?” John asked. “Because Megan may be a great catch, but all the other fish that come with her are not.”

  “We’ve been together for twelve years, Dad. I’m already well acquainted with her family. They aren’t all bad, in fact—”

  It was clear John wasn’t listening. Which didn’t matter, because at that point a server came to take their order.

  Once the waiter retreated, John miraculously steered the conversation just where Tom wanted it to go. “How’d Megan handle the news about Missouri?”

  Tom took a long pull from his water glass, still not knowing if he was doing the right thing. “Surprisingly well.” This was his moment to ask. Surely they could postpone the move until Megs was ready. Tom gathered as much courage as he could and was about to open his mouth when Brody spoke up.

  “You’re going to be missed around the New York office.” Brody took his napkin off the table and spread it over his lap.

  “I’m touched, brother.”

  “Oh, not missed by me.” He leaned back, mischief radiating off him like heat.

  John’s phone rang. He took the call outside, leaving Tom and Brody alone.

  “Then by who?” Tom didn’t know where Brody was going with this, but he had a feeling the punch line would be directed down, straight at him, just as it always was. The bright side about moving out of state was there wouldn’t be anyone around to call him Spare Parts.

  “By Gina.” Brody gave Tom a knowing look.

  “Gina?”

  She’d started as an associate at Prescott and Prescott the same time Tom had. Gina was incredibly bright and definitely too sweet for the cutthroat environment, and having her as a confidante at work was part of what got Tom through those first few years. In the end, she took a job at a firm that focused on environmental law, and Tom had been sad to see her go. They’d mostly lost contact after that, save for bumping into each other at a midtown deli they both occasionally grabbed lunch from.

  “She just left whatever firm she was at and interviewed for a position at Prescott,” Brody went on.

  “That’s great,” Tom said, taking another sip of water. “I hope you offered her the job. She’s really talented. She’ll be a great asset.”

  Brody smirked, his eyebrows raised, and pointed at Tom. “She told me she thinks you have pretty good assets too.”

  Tom coughed, choking on his water. “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s just say as soon as the interview was over and we basically offered her the position, she spent the next several minutes interviewing me about you. She seemed pretty disappointed when I told her you were getting married this weekend.”

  Tom felt his heart speed up to a canter. He and Megs had gotten together at a young age, but it wasn’t as though he’d stopped noticing other women. He’d just had no desire to act on anything. Sure, he and Gina had been close. Her upbringing had been so similar to Tom’s that when they’d met, they’d almost immediately developed their own shorthand. Of course he’d kept their relationship professional, smothering any attraction he felt for her. He’d never seriously entertained being with anyone other than Megs, because why would he?

  Still, it was always flattering to hear someone was interested in you. So Tom let himself be flattered. Gina hadn’t changed the way Tom felt about Megs then, and even now, in light of everything…

  The now-familiar humiliation of her infidelity pressed against him. But he knew what he had to do.

  Keep the peace. Do this right. Don’t rock the boat.

  “Yeah, well, I’m obviously off the market.” Tom nodded as though he were one of those bobblehead dogs people put on the dashboards of their cars. “So thanks for letting me know, but it’s moot.”

  “What’s moot?” John asked, sitting back down just as their meals arrived.

  “Tom’s girlfriend,” Brody sang as though he were a first-grader.

  “Your mother told me she didn’t think Megan knew about Missouri. Thought you’d forgotten to tell her.”

  “‘Forgotten,’” Brody scoffed, complete with air quotes. “Just like Emmeline ‘forgot’ to tell me she’s going to Newport Beach next weekend.”

  “What?” Tom turned to his brother, tired of his confusing interruptions. How drunk was he?

  “Nothing.” Brody took an oversize bite of his crab sandwich.

  “No, Megs knows about the move,” Tom assured his dad, mentally adding, Thanks to your enlightening speech that we’re about to hear for the third time.

  “Good. Because I have a surprise for both of you. You’ll just have to wait until later to find out what it is.”

  Stifling an internal groan—and a more distant flicker of curiosity about Gina’s own record with fidelity—Tom realized he couldn’t ask his father to postpone the move. Instead, he dutifully sat forward and feigned interest while his father monologued about Missouri, silently hoping that the relocation was the universe’s idea of doing things right.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Megan

  Not all of Megan’s interventions were going as planned. Leaping too quickly with Donna first thing that morning had in fact knocked down a series of flammable dominoes. Most upsetting, it had cast Megan as the villain, taking the spotlight off her gran. Megan spent countless minutes on a sofa with her mother in the hotel lobby trying to convince her she loved the dress she already had but simply wanted to ensure Donna felt her best. Brianna, ever the contrarian, had stomped into the lobby, a Snickers bar in hand, and declared, “I don’t see why we have to buy a new dress for Mom. I think her bazongas look resplendent in the one she has.” Somehow, in this version of the day, Brianna got to be the hero.

  “Don’t get too excited, we’re just going to buy her a shawl to cover up her cleavage.” Patience waning, Megan realized her answer hadn’t passed through her normal filter; she’d been too busy trying to remember what time Leo arrived so she could coordinate her return from Friday Harbor.

  “I don’t know why you’re turning Mom’s outfit into such a
plot point,” Brianna said wickedly. “Mom has a banging body and should show it off if she wishes. God, Megan, you’re such an ageist.”

  “I—”

  “And a sexist,” Brianna added, gleefully clocking that she was getting under Megan’s skin.

  The actual shopping trip didn’t fare much better. Donna was so upset over being called a floozy by Gran and by Megan’s outburst, her mood was all over the place. A British accent came and went, and she didn’t seem to have any idea what she wanted. She kept moaning about Husbands Number One and Four. To top it all off, Donna hadn’t yet heard Carol refer to the hotel as dark, so Megan’s early-morning insistence that they buy the vases and candles was ramping up her insecurities to new heights.

  Megan regrouped and got a handle on her next orders of business:

  Calm Donna down by continuing to build her up.

  Encourage good behavior from Brianna.

  Find Leo before he found her.

  She felt like she was using every ounce of energy she had placating Donna and Brianna as they made their way through the shops of Friday Harbor. It was working well on her mother; however, her sister was growing increasingly suspicious.

  “Why are you being so nice?” Brianna asked after Megan pointed out a retro-chic duvet cover she thought Brianna should buy for her New York bed.

  “Because I care about you.” What Megan really wanted to say was Because I need to get out of this day before I give up and lobotomize myself.

  Brianna scoffed. Sure, Megan hadn’t delivered that line with much emotion. She worried she wasn’t making enough headway with Brianna.

  There was an ace up Megan’s sleeve for her enfant terrible of a grown sister, but she didn’t want to use it unless she really had to. If by tonight, Megan sensed she still wasn’t doing things right with Brianna and was angering the universe somehow, she’d take a more concrete approach to helping her sister move to New York.

  But only if she felt it was totally necessary.

  The car ride home was full of loud music and singing, though Megan’s voice strained with the force of convincing everyone she was having a great time.

  Once back in Roche Harbor, Megan practically ran to the lobby, knowing Leo would be there at any moment. Her heart both soared and plummeted when she saw his back, the muscles pulling his shirt taut across his shoulders.

  “Hey!” The word escaped louder and faster than she’d expected, her voice echoing through the hotel. An elderly couple looked up in alarm, as did a bellhop.

  Leo seemed to turn around in slow motion. He operated at a different pace than the rest of the world. His smile rattled her resolve.

  But this was the day to do things right.

  “Megan.” He pulled her into a hug, the warmth of his body and his scent familiar—not just from the other versions of this day but from lifetimes past.

  “Can we talk?” Her voice wobbled only slightly, as did her ankles.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  Leo slipped his hotel key card into the pocket of his worn jeans and offered the crook of his elbow for her hand. She pretended she didn’t see it. Forgoing a long walk over to the pool, she stopped him just outside the hotel.

  To the uninformed, Leo’s smile might have appeared easy. But Megan saw the worry creeping into the small creases at his eyes, the faint lines between his brows. If the uneven cobblestone didn’t bring her down, knowing what was in his heart and what she had to say might.

  Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Leo said, “Wait. Before you say anything, can I have a minute? I’ve missed you for so long, I just want to enjoy not missing you.”

  The interruption was throwing off the speech she’d been mentally preparing.

  “I’m sorry, maybe that was the wrong thing to say,” Leo continued when she didn’t respond. “It’s just…I think about us a lot. About what happened. And I couldn’t come here without checking to make sure…is this what you want?”

  You mean reliving the same day three times? Megan was tempted to say. Having my life blow up in my face, only to wake up at the beginning of the war every day still wounded from a battle that doesn’t appear to have occurred?

  Instead, what came out was an impatient “Is what what I want?”

  Megan was tired and thrown. Her brain wasn’t working as it should. It was Leo’s fault. He was going off script. She should’ve anticipated that changing her approach would have an impact on how he behaved. She’d never been good at improvising. Megan was a planner. And now they were having an intimate conversation out in the open.

  She pulled him off to the side of the entrance, where they’d at least have a pocket of privacy.

  Leo didn’t miss a beat. “This. Is this what you want? The Prescotts. Their life.” He took a deep breath, scuffing at the ground with his shoe like a lost little boy, then squinting in the sun. “I wasn’t planning on being this blunt, but you’re looking at me and you don’t seem to be the blushing bride-to-be. I care about you. I want you to be happy. Is Tom what you want? Because—”

  Everything snapped into place. She couldn’t let herself fall into the philosophical loop of wondering who she’d be happier with, which life she wanted. She couldn’t believe she’d let that happen the first time he’d shown up on the island. Right now what Megan wanted was normalcy. She wanted emotions that operated within reasonable parameters and for the weekend she’d been planning for years to actually move forward. The universe had made it clear where she was supposed to be, and she had to trust that.

  And so Megan replied, “Of course Tom’s who I want.”

  “But—”

  “Leo. This wedding is happening. My life with Tom has already happened. You have to move on.”

  “Givens,” Leo pleaded, “come on, just hear me out. It might have been eight years ago, but I remember every detail of that night—that morning—we had together.”

  “Like you just said, that was eight years ago.”

  “So you think all my feelings have just shut down?” Leo ran his fingers through his wavy hair. “Do you know I buy a copy of GQ every time I’m at the airport? I thumb through the pages and try to figure out which ones you worked on—so I can feel closer to you.”

  Megan’s breath hitched. It’d been a while since Tom had taken an interest in her work. He was so buried in his own, he simply didn’t have the bandwidth. And vice versa. Their conversations tended to revolve around what they were going to eat and watch and which of their college friends or coworkers had a baby shower coming up. This was what a decade of domesticity looked like…right? She was starting to wonder if there was more to why she and Tom didn’t feel as close as they once had. Or at least to why this one day, and its new revelations, could’ve exploded their relationship so disastrously. But this wasn’t doing things right. Everything here was wrong. Leo was wrong. She had to get rid of him.

  “That’s all very sweet, Leonardo.” She regretted using his full first name the second it escaped her mouth because it contained just enough warmth to make him smile. “It’s also ridiculous. We’ve hardly spoken in years.”

  “That may be true, Givens, and yet you can’t tell me there’s nothing between us.” His words, his tone, grew more serious.

  He seemed to believe he was gaining ground. She had to shut him down.

  She spoke with the conviction she’d had to use on many men in the media world. “I know you’ve come here thinking you have these highly romantic lingering feelings for me, but you love the thrill of the chase and I love Tom. So.”

  That last syllable didn’t have the weight of finality she’d tried to infuse it with.

  His laugh was timid. Bitter. She’d taken him by surprise. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Her eyes whipped up. She took inventory of Leo’s every atom and the way they formed and chilled to exude casual indifference. If you don’t choose me, I’ll go back to my life of beautiful people and even more beautiful places, the atoms seemed to say. And then h
is cold expression crumbled, just a little.

  “I mean, I can’t talk you into loving me. I just thought…I hoped, I guess…”

  The tears in his eyes weren’t fair. She had to look away. She couldn’t say she was sorry or tell him he hadn’t imagined their chemistry. She wasn’t allowed to share all those nights she’d googled his name just to feel closer to him. Those confessions would make Leo feel better and Tom, if he ever found out, feel worse. If she indulged those feelings even a little, she really would be single-handedly responsible for ruining Tom’s future, and hers. “You should go, Leo.”

  “You seem to be forgetting that I’m the best man.”

  “Tom will understand, trust me.” She muttered the last part under her breath.

  They looked at each other, him waiting for her to crack. It wasn’t going to happen. Not today.

  “I promise I’ll go if that’s what you really want. I just…” He widened his stance enough to indicate he was staying put. “Look, I know Tom’s the lawyer, but humor me for a minute. Let’s have a little debate about this whole thing.”

  “You want to debate our feelings?” Irritation coiled alongside the thrill of potential banter. Part of Megan wanted to prolong their talk, to wander down this road. But she couldn’t.

  “Okay, maybe not a debate. But definitely a discussion. And then…look, I’m not going to stick around if it really is him.”

  “Then I’ll see you later.” Megan still couldn’t move, despite her farewell, so she added, “Don’t forget the duffel bag you dumped in the lobby.”

  “But…” He moved to brush the hair that had come loose from her topknot out of her eyes before seemingly thinking better of it. “I can’t leave knowing you’re unhappy. That you might have regrets. Can you answer one question for me?”