Her Best Man

Justin’s brows lifted. “Your best man’s AWOL?”

“I thought you were my best man,” she teased. “Well, mine and every other woman’s.”

“Some days it’s a blessing, some days a curse,” he said. “But since I’m going to be at the wedding tomorrow, I’m happy to pose as your date, if you want one.”

She was touched by the offer. Shortly after Lisa had accepted Warren’s proposal, Amy had worked a long shift in the ER with Justin and, during a lull in the early hours, she’d confided her history with her sister’s fiancé’s brother. And Justin being Justin, he no doubt remembered every word of that conversation.

“Thanks,” she said sincerely. “But I can handle it.”

He nodded. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will,” she agreed.

She passed the triage waiting room on her way to the door, pausing when she recognized a woman seated in one of the plastic chairs with a little boy in her lap.

“Hey, Chloe,” she greeted the mother, then crouched down and gently touched the back of her hand to the child’s cheek. He was pale and feverish, and his skin was clammy. “Who’s this—” she wracked her brain for the names of her friend’s two boys “—Ethan or Owen?”

“Simon.” Chloe’s smile was weary. “He’s my third.”

“I guess it’s been a while,” she noted, her attention already shifting to the child again. “How old are you, Simon?”

He held up two fingers, then unfurled a third.

“His birthday was last week,” Chloe explained.

“What are his symptoms?”

“Fever, lethargy, stomach pains.”

“Vomiting?”

Chloe shook her head just as Simon bent over and threw up his spaghettiOs—all over Amy’s DVF curve-hugging jersey dress.

***

Ben rented a car.

It was an eight-and-a-half hour drive from New York City to Charisma, but he preferred driving to waiting. He’d planned to rent one anyway so that he would have his own transportation while he was in North Carolina. It had made sense until he hit the gridlock and construction delays that added almost two hours to his travel. He also hadn’t anticipated that thoughts of Amy would be his constant companion throughout the journey.

He had fond memories of her and all the days they’d spent together, but he was surprised to realize just how many memories he had. She’d been an integral part of the life he’d left behind. He’d missed her when he left, and had continued to miss her for a very long time afterward. Not that he’d admitted it back then, because he’d had plans for his life that didn’t include his high school girlfriend.

Out of sight, out of mind—or so he’d wanted to believe. But occasionally, when he’d been sleeping in a cave in Afghanistan or shivering in a tent in Husavik or fending off rats in Deshnoke, it was dreams of Amy that had helped him get through the night. The memory of her radiant smile had given him light in his darkest hours, and thoughts of her sweet kisses had kept him warm on the coldest days.

At sixteen, Amy had been soft and sweet and innocent and loving. She’d given him everything he’d asked—and more. He’d loved her, but he’d still left her without looking back. Because he’d suspected that if he didn’t get out of town right after graduation, he might never want to go. So he’d said goodbye to Charisma and to Amy, but he’d never forgotten her.

From his brother, he’d learned that she’d gone to medical school as she’d planned and returned to Charisma to work in the ER at Mercy Hospital. The last time he’d asked about her, Warren had said she was engaged. Ben hadn’t asked again. And he’d refused to believe that his increasing dissatisfaction with his own life had any connection to the knowledge that she’d obviously moved on with her life—without him. After all, it was what he’d told her to do.

More than two years had passed since he’d learned of her engagement, so she was likely married by now. Which meant that her husband would be at the wedding with her. As unreasonable and unrealistic as it was, he didn’t want to think about her being with another man, kissing another man, loving another man. So as he drove, Ben cranked up the volume on the radio in an attempt to drown out the unwelcome thoughts.