"I know Gems is sick," I start speaking after a few bites of the shrimp salad Harry has made, "and this is going to make no sense, but it still feels a bit like an abandonment. I wanted to see her this weekend, and I'm disappointed she couldn't be here to pick out cakes and dresses with us. It's stupid because she can't control being sick, and I know intellectually that she's not purposely ditching me. Yet there's this part of my brain that's screaming at me that somehow Gemma knows we had sex last night and therefore she wants nothing to do with me."
His silence doesn't surprise me. Great. Now he's going to know exactly how broken I am.
Should have kept your mouth shut, Lor.
When he puts down his fork and places his plate on the coffee table before twisting to me, I hold my breath in anticipation of the words that will break my heart.
"Lor –" he starts croakily, and then clears his throat. "Thank you for sharing that with me. It must be exhausting to think people you love are going to leave you at any moment."
Tears well up in my eyes at his words.
He understands.
That alone is a relief, and I can exhale.
"And even though your brain is rational and knows that your emotions aren't the real story, it's still a lot of worry. Shall we call Gemma and tell her about our day?" He pauses, and my heart pounds with excitement at the thought of talking to her. "If you want, we can tell her we had sex too." Impishly he adds, "But let's not tell her about all of the positions we tried."
The smile that crosses my face first tilts up my lips and as it grows wider, my lips part and my teeth show, and soon I'm laughing, holding an arm over my ribs.
"Not even the one where your arm was trapped behind my shoulder, and my leg was at a 45° angle? Or how my joints popped in reverse cowgirl?"
His dimple sprouts as he joins in the laughter with me, and I'm so grateful we can joke about this.
He makes everything better. Easier.
Removing his phone from his pocket, he dials his sister, slouching next to me on the sofa as the FaceTime video comes up.
"My matrimony homies!" Gems giggles before dissolving into a coughing fit. We wait while she holds up a finger, and I find myself oddly relieved that she wasn't lying about being sick.
How awful is that?
"Hey, the lungs are supposed to stay IN your body!" I tease, and my entire being lightens with the jest.
"Stop!" she smiles. "You're going to make me laugh which will make me cough again. My ribs already hurt enough."
"It's good to see you," I say with sincerity. "I've missed you."
"Not me," Harry chimes in. "You're a pain in the arse even on FaceTime."
"Harry!" My admonishment accompanies Gemma's outrage, and it's like old times.
"I'm sorry I couldn't come up this weekend."
"Me, too," I whisper.
"Whatever." Rolling his eyes, Harry continues. "We bought that secondhand pantsuit you liked."
"Thank you. Are you ready to fill me in on the other deets?"
Exchanging a glance at Harry, I dive in and explain everything from the theme to the cake to the music choices. Gemma nods in what appears to be happiness throughout, whooping with joy when I finish the explanation.
"I knew my matrimony homies would plan the perfect wedding, and I can tell that you've left nothing out. Plus you're probably really glad to be done with the bulk of the planning. Harry won't have to come up to Manchester every weekend anymore."
YOU ARE READING
Matrimony Homies
FanfictionLoren and Gemma were childhood friends, which meant so were Loren and Harry. Until a fateful event that would drive them apart for a decade. Now Gemma needs her two best mates to plan her wedding. How will Harry and Loren manage to get along for...
