Brandon's Notebook (A TMMM Bonus Material)

Journal 11: All In

On a short break toward the end of the rehearsal, I finally found a chance to draw her away from Jake with the guise of talking to her about her stuff being moved to the condo.

At first I couldn't say anything. It felt like it had been so long since I had her alone to myself. 

As we stood there by the church yard, it hit me that she was very much like the place we were marrying at—a humble beauty, a touch rustic in the elegance that was all her own, and disarmingly charming with a bit of whimsy. Not everyone was going to love her at first sight but she was the kind of beautiful that grew on you, long before you know it.

She still wasn't perfectly happy with me but as she stood there, finally talking to me and giving in to a smile here and there, albeit a little reluctantly, I felt incredibly relieved. I also felt equally determined to never give her cause to shut me out again because from where I'd stood, on the other side of that ocean she'd put between us, it had felt quite cold and lonely.

She chattered on about our honeymoon, about her trousseau, her eyes clearly displaying her not-so-innocent thoughts. It turned up the heat but I was happy to burn as long as I was close to her. I wanted to be closer but it would have to wait because she still had a few traditions to keep before the wedding. As unconventional as our arrangement was, I'd made sure that Charlotte didn't miss out on anything as a bride. 

I'd let Aimee plan a bachelorette party, with an explicit plea to exclude male strippers or anything that might require me to show up unexpectedly and take the bride away. She promised me it was going to be all clean fun. Before she left to start making plans, she smiled at me and patted my arm, saying: I wish she knew what you're doing for her. She hasn't had a lot of people in her life who put her first, you know? But now she has you and I have a feeling you're going to make up for all that she's never had.

I couldn't quell away the pang of guilt I felt at that because I knew that despite of what I'd been feeling toward Charlotte lately, she was in this complicated lie with me not because I put her first. In fact, she was in it because she was a necessary element to what had been my end game. I wasn't marrying her because I loved her and couldn't live without her. I was marrying her because she was simply a means to an end—an end that didn't have her in it.

And that end... Well, it honestly looked damn bleak without her. 

She may not have been put first when this whole mess was first orchestrated but I had about eleven months and two weeks to move her up that priority list. 

I tied her shoe-laces, mentally promising her that it wasn't going to be the first time someone took care of her. She had a lot of heart to give but so little of it that she ever got back.

I wanted to stay there with her after the rehearsals, after everyone was gone and it was just the two of us, but a deal that had been packaged and tied with a pretty ribbon suddenly collapsed. I had to head back to the city to fix it and clean up the mess—my first test of priorities no more than half an hour after I promised I would put Charlotte first.

And with the way she waved off her obvious desire to stay so we could both head back to the city broke me inside a little. She was clearly used to making the sacrifice. I decided then that I would stay—especially after Jake conveniently offered himself up to cover for me, again. Charlotte may think him harmless all she liked but she hasn't seen the trail of broken hearts he'd left behind. But I had to trust him, didn't I, if I wanted to put Charlotte first. I wasn't going to rip away her chance to do something that made her happy simply because I was busy and jealous.

I wasn't thrilled but I reminded myself that it wasn't about me. 

As soon as I was off, I texted Jake. I left him with some threats, teasing as they might have sounded, but just between the two of us, without the attempt to keep things light to maintain some semblance of pride, I pleaded instead. I texted him: Please take care of Charlotte for me. I trust you with my life but she's far more precious than that.