Page 114 of Camera Stays On

“Well, maybe you should.”

Silence stretched between us in the parking lot. It felt like both of us had a bunch to say, but neither had the courage to say it.

“I think I’d travel,” she said eventually. “Get out of this county. Go do something with my life. I’m not sure what. I’ve been enjoying screenwriting, maybe I’d do that. Or go to Hollywood and become a professional extra. Or New York, or Nashville. Maybe Chicago.” She giggled, and it lessened the tension.

“Yeah? So you’d keep going with film?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah, no matter what I do in life, I’ll always have a passion for movies. Even if tomorrow Sawyer and I don’t get married and settle down, I would never forget the three of us having fun in your backyard, making home movies.”

I relaxed and laughed with her. “We used to go through so much ketchup. Ma was so mad.” It took us a few years to figure out how to make our own fake blood from corn syrup and other ingredients that didn’t involve tomatoes.

“You know, even the smell of it makes me gag now?”

“Oh, I know.” Sadness fell over us again. I doubted very much that Sawyer knew that. He didn’t know anything about Purdy other than she was his, and he liked it that way.

“Where you guys going for a honeymoon?” I asked, switching topics. She reached for her backpack and hauled it over her shoulder as I opened her door and helped her up. I went to the other side and got in, turning the key in the ignition.

“Oh, we’re just getting a nice hotel for the night. Sawyer doesn’t like to travel.”

“You didn’t want to go anywhere?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said in such a flat tone I dropped it. As I drove, I clenched the wheel, fighting every muscle in me to not stop this car, unbuckle my seatbelt, and yank her over to me. We drove on into the night, and I imagined my lips on hers, the things I’d confess. The secrets I’d tell. The pleas I’d make.

She’d stopped talking long ago, opting instead to sulk and stare out the window. I felt guilty reminding her of how bad Sawyer was for her, just hours before she was to walk down the aisle.

Parking in front of her place, I hopped out to help her down from my truck. Her hand in mine felt like heaven, and I held it a beat longer than I should have.

“Purdy…” I started, my heart hammering in my chest. This was my last chance. I needed to say something. My confession was on the tip of my tongue as she looked up, our bodies inches from each other.

“What’s up?” she asked.

What’s up? What’s up? I almost laughed. What’s up is that I’m in love with you, and you deserve so much better. Let’s run away together, abandon everything, and forget all about my brother.

Be with me, Purdy.

I blinked, my mouth suddenly dry.

“I—I hope this is what you want.”

She frowned, her brow furrowing as she took in my words. The silence stretched between us, and I could almost hear her thoughts.

It wasn’t about what she wanted. It was about what Sawyer did.

She nodded and let go of my hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? You’re still going to walk me down the aisle, right?”

Disappointment crashed into me, and I stared for far too long before nodding. Months ago she’d asked me to give her away, as she had no one else in her life to do it.

“It’s an honor to walk with you, even for just a moment.” I reached for her hand again and brought it to my lips, kissing the top gently. “Bye, Purdy.”

Stepping back, I caught sight of her flushed cheeks. “See you then. I’ll be the one in white.” She smiled and ran inside. I stared after her for a long moment, then turned and got back into my truck to return to my place.

My stomach fluttered with butterflies. That kiss on her hand was the closest I’d ever get to confessing my feelings. But—I think she knew.

On the drive home, I made a bold decision. I couldn’t let her go through with this. He didn’t deserve her, and she didn’t deserve him. She deserved better. Better than Sawyer, better than this town, this county, hell, better than me.

What had I really expected? That I’d confess my feelings and she’d run away with me, when she should be arriving at the church? It was a delusional thought, yet it killed me to know I had my moment and didn’t say a goddamn word.