Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Good night,” I say instead, then hang up, tossing my phone to the side and glancing over at Declan. “So what do you think about that song?” I nod toward my journal.
“I think you’re living in a state of lies and denial, and the only truth is on this paper.” He sets the journal down and takes my hands in his. “If you’re not one-hundred-percent sure you want to marry him, you shouldn’t do it. He'll wait if he loves you like he says he does.”
He’s right, I know he is, but the thought of letting everyone down makes me feel sick. My parents have spent thousands of dollars on this wedding, countless hours making sure everything is perfect. They’re so happy I’m settling down and have found a man to start a life with. I know they were worried, with me jumping from man to man, refusing to get serious or commit. My mom mentioned how excited she is to have more grandbabies. And what about Kyle? Pushing the wedding back would hurt him, and he’s been nothing but kind to me since I woke up.
No, this is just a moment. The effects of my brain injury. I’m going to feel again, and everything will be okay.
A text chimes from Kyle: I really do miss you, Kendall.
No butterflies. No sparks. But it’s the confirmation I needed.
“I want to marry him,” I tell Declan. “He loves me.” I grab my phone and journal and stand. “I should probably go.”
“Kendall—” He starts, but I cut him off.
“I appreciate you listening to me. You’re a wonderful friend, and even though I don’t remember us finishing this song, I know it’s special. I hope once I get back from my honeymoon, we can have Blackwood hammer out the specifics so we can release it. I have no doubt it will be a hit.”
Declan clenches his jaw. “I won’t be here. I’m going away. But I’ll let your dad know I’m on board with however he wants to go about it. If he needs me to fly in to record it, I can do that.”
His confession rattles me. “Going where? Will you be at the wedding?” The thought of him not being there affects me more than it should.
“I’ll be at the wedding. Then I’m taking off on a road trip. With the band on a hiatus and…” He clears his throat. “I just need to get away for a little bit.”
I nod in understanding, but a huge lump fills my throat. “I’m sure they’ll want to do a music video as well. How long will you be gone for?” I don’t give a shit about the video, but I’m too much of a wuss to ask outright how long he’ll be away.
“I’m not sure,” he says, his voice hard. “I’ll keep in touch with Easton, though.”
“Okay.” I bob my head up and down, trying to appear nonchalant, while I’m freaking out on the inside. Which is ridiculous since Declan and I are only friends, and him going away has nothing to do with me since I’ll be away on my honeymoon as well. “Okay,” I say again.
“Okay,” he repeats.
He walks me out, keeping his distance, and when I get in the car, he mutters a goodbye before shutting the door and walking away. I have no idea what’s going on with me, my thoughts, my chaotic mess of emotions, but as the car takes off from the curb, I can’t help feeling as though my heart is being ripped from my chest—which is crazy because Declan doesn’t own my heart. Kyle does. Right?
My intention was to go to Kyle’s, but instead, I find myself back at home, alone, where I stay curled up in bed, writing lyrics and pouring my heart out, all while the words Declan said run on repeat: I think you’re living in a state of lies and denial, and the only truth is on this paper.
“Wow,” my dad says, his eyes filled with emotion. “You look like a beautiful princess.”
It’s Saturday afternoon, the day of my wedding. The morning has been spent with everyone getting their hair and makeup done and the seamstress ensuring everyone’s dresses fit perfectly.
As I stare into the mirror, I have to agree with my dad—I do look like a princess. My makeup is flawless, my dress is elegant, and my glossy golden locks are up in a tight bun, complete with a diamond-encrusted tiara. But unlike the Disney Princesses, I’m unsure if this is where I get my happily ever after. My heart is pounding against my rib cage, and I feel as though I’m about to pass out.
The music starts up, indicating the wedding procession is about to begin. I’m hidden behind the door, but I can picture everyone walking down the aisle. We practiced it last night—who would walk when and where they would stand. Then afterward, we went out to dinner, where we ate Italian food, and I faked having a headache to be excused early, so I could spend the rest of the night writing more songs.