by Ludi and angyxoxo
It's finally the
morning of the wedding, and Jean’s childhood bedroom is a tidal wave of
bustling females – me, Betsy, Emma, her mother, her sister, and an assortment
of relatives I don’t even recognize. In
the middle of the surge I can just about make out Jean from the crown of
flowers adorning her veiled head. Mrs.
Grey is bawling away into her handkerchief about her daughter being all grown
up, while Sarah is grinning and rearranging the elegant string of pearls round
Jean's neck, which obviously seems to be a family heirloom. Betsy and Emma are fighting over the digital
camera, each insisting that they should be the one to capture all the
moments. Heads duck as the camera goes
flying through the air and almost smashes an antique vase in the process. Instead of scolding there’s laughter. Everyone’s too cheerful to be moaning about
boring stuff like broken vases.
Yup, it’s the usual
morning-of-the-wedding rush, the one I never got round to having. Nevertheless, I’m standing on the sidelines,
smiling. The happiness is infectious
and despite my memories of Cody, I can’t help feeling glad that this is Jean’s
special day. I stand on tiptoes and
look over the throng of girls. Jean’s
in the middle of it all, not saying a word, the smile on her face strained. I frown a little. Must be down t’ nerves…
I half turn and look
at myself in the full-length mirror.
I’m wearing the strapless, low-cut dress that all us bridesmaids are
wearing, a classy-looking concoction of lilac-colored satin that hugs my figure
like a second skin. My hair’s been
caught back in an elegant chignon, with soft white curls framing my cheeks and
a single sprig of flowers tucked behind my left ear. I would be lying if I said that I hadn’t made an extra special
effort today. I want to look as
beautiful for Remy as much as I do for Jean’s big day. I want to show him just how worth it I
really am. Remy. Just the thought of
seeing him again gives me butterflies.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited or frightened just to see one
man in my entire life.
I press my fingers to
my lips and smile to myself.
“You’re looking
especially beautiful today, Rogue,” Emma notes, coming up beside me. Before I notice what she’s up to she lifts
the camera and snaps a picture of me. I
decide to let her get away with it and pass her a gracious smile.
“Why, thank yah.”
“No, I mean it,” Emma
replies seriously, “you look most delicious.” She checks how the photo turned
out before putting the camera aside and asking suspiciously: “Is there any
special man making an appearance at this wedding?”
I stare at her. Trust Emma to sniff out a tryst!
“Of course not,” I
reply, my cheeks coloring. She gazes at
me with narrowed eyes.
“Anna Raven, I don’t
believe a word of it!” she scoffs. “When a woman looks as hot as you do right
now, it has to be for a man. So come on – tell me who he is. Or shall I guess?”
As luck would have it,
before I can make my reply the white wedding limo starts hooting us from
outside – lucky because I know Emma wouldn’t give up until she’d forced the
truth out of me, even if it involved the use of a shotgun. There’s a general flurry as Mrs. Grey starts
protesting about being too late. A
rustle of skirts, a swirl of bouquets and everyone’s filtered out to go and
fight over car seats. Jean stays
reluctantly behind under the pretext of doing some final arrangements to her
gown. I stand in the doorway silently,
not knowing whether I should stay or leave.
I haven’t had a chance to speak to Jean at all since we got here, and I
feel the need to add my own private congratulations. The others finally gone, peace reigns once more and Jean heaves a
weary sigh before passing me a look that says ‘well, what can you do?’ I smile broadly at her, holding my arms open
to my old friend. She moves to return
the hug and I enfold her in a loving embrace.
“Jean, yah look
beautiful!” I exclaim.
“So do you,” she
smiles, hugging me warmly.
“But not half as much
as you,” I assure her. “Ah can’t tell yah how happy Ah am for you and
Scott. Ah only hope you two find the
happiness that Cody and Ah never got to have.”
“I hope so too,” Jean
squeezes me fondly before breaking away. “But everyone knows we can never have
anything as special as you and Cody did.”
“Don’t be silly!” I
scoff. “You and Scott have been together for ages! You make such a great couple!”
To my surprise, Jean
turns away and looks herself over in the mirror again, her gaze pensive. “You
really think so?” she asks softly. I
catch her morose tone and lay a hand on her shoulder.
“Jean, sugah, is
somethin’ wrong? You’re not gettin’
cold feet now, are yah?”
She looks round at me,
a wan smile on her lips.
“Rogue, you know the
feeling? When you meet someone, and
suddenly everything falls into place, and you suddenly realize that everything
in your life has been just a prelude, a set-up for that one moment where you meet
that one person? You know the feeling
I’m talking about?”
I stare at her, the
words sinking in slowly as I realize that whoever she’s talking about isn’t Scott.
She’s fallen in love with someone else…
“Jean…” I begin, but
she hushes me, placing a gloved finger gently on my lips.
“No – it doesn’t
matter,” she says softly, sadly. “I told him it was over. Scott and I… we’ve been together so
long…loved one another for so long… I can’t end it, not even for this feeling
inside me. Call me crazy, Rogue, but I
can’t break that loyalty to Scott, I just can’t, I’m too afraid to… And there’s
a part of me that still – that will always – love him…”
Her finger drops from
my lips, but I can’t say a word and tears fill my eyes as I realize what she’s
sacrificing.
“You’re a better woman
than Ah am,” I say at last. “Ah could never give the same to Cody.”
“Cody’s gone to a
better place,” Jean replies gently. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about your
feelings for Remy.”
I blush. “Ah know.
It’s just… It’s taken some gettin’ used to, yah know? Lovin’ someone else…”
“So is that what it
is? Love?” she asks. I sense she’s glad to have the subject turn
away from her.
“Ah… Ah think so. There are so many emotions goin’ round
inside me, Ah can hardly make head or tail of it mahself. But yeah… It sure feels like love.”
The smile that lights
Jean’s face is genuine.
“After everything
you've been through, I’m so happy that things are finally turning right for
you, Rogue,” she breathes.
“Really? Even when you’re hurtin’ inside, Jeannie?”
“Rogue,” she smiles
and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly, “darling, if something good can come out
of all this then how could I not? You
know I’ve only ever wanted happiness for you.
And if you’ll allow me to say it – I can see you really care for the
guy. You’ll work things out.”
“Ah hope so.” I hold
Jean’s face tenderly between my hands, say: “Oh Jean, Ah only want happiness
for you too. Are you sure marryin’
Scott is what you really want?”
Indecision crosses her
face and she’s about to make her reply when Betsy opens the door and pokes her
head through.
“Ladies, it’s
time. If we don’t leave now we’ll be
well past the arena of ‘fashionably late’.”
“Oh God, is that the
time?” Jean quickly brushes her gown down and reaches for her bouquet. “Can’t
miss my big day now, can I?” She rushes out, Betsy behind her. I take one last look in the mirror,
rearrange the flowers in my hair, run a hand over the front of the lilac satin
dress. Jean’s confession has
disconcerted and saddened me, but at the same time a nervous joy is spreading
through me as I think of finally seeing Remy again, of finally telling him… I
love him. And I don’t want to
disappoint him.
I smile slightly at my
reflection.
For the first time in
four years, I’m ready to let someone new into my life and it feels good not to
be afraid anymore.
-oOo-
The limos drew up
outside the church about fifteen minutes too late, but at last out stepped the
bridal company - first the bridesmaids, looking radiant and knowing it; then
the pageboy and pagegirl, Jean's niece and nephew; then the rest of her
relatives; and then finally Jean herself, on the arm of her very proud father.
It was a beautiful
early-December morning - the air was crisp and cool, but the sun was shining in
full force from a clear blue sky, and the birds were singing. It was the weather everyone had been hoping
for. Jean drew her embroidered white
shawl over her elbows and turned round to the others.
"Everybody
ready?" she asked expectantly.
Each one of the girls smiled and nodded back. Only Rouge shivered in the cool winter air, and Jean knew she was
torn between feeling worried for her and also elated at the prospect of seeing
Remy again. A short look passed between
her and the bride-to-be, and Jean gave her a small nod before turning back to
the church, saying: "Good, because I really want to get this over and done
with."
Everyone laughed at
what they presumed was a joke - only Rogue remained silent. Again Jean passed her a half-sympathetic,
half-encouraging smile.
Don’t feel sorry for me, Rogue, she thought. I'm
doing the right thing. At least, here's
hoping I am.
She grimaced and
turned towards the beautiful building where her life was going to change
forever. "Well…shall we?"
The party quickly
hurried towards the church, the guests going to take their seats before Jean's
grand entrance. While this was going
on, the rest of the bridal party stood in the church's hallway, looking round
at one another with nervous but happy smiles.
"God, my heart's
beating a mile a minute!" Betsy exclaimed in a half whisper. "And I'm
not even the one getting married!"
"I wish Bobby was
here," Emma moaned. It hadn't
escaped anyone's notice that she'd been swigging from a bottle of red wine the
entire trip down to the church, and no doubt she was wishing she had someone to
distract her and ease her tortured nerves.
Rogue simply wiggled a disapproving eyebrow at her two highly-strung
friends.
"Gawd knows what
you gals are gonna be like on your
wedding days!" she exclaimed.
"Uggggh!"
Emma groaned. "This only goes to confirm it, girls. The day I get married is the day I'm dead
and spinning in my grave!"
They weren't the only
ones who were fretting. Mr. Grey, who'd
been complaining about Scott Summers since day one, was now torn between losing
his youngest daughter to some 'no-good accountant', and feeling proud at how
beautiful his little princess really was.
"Well, since I
know I'm not the only one who's feeling a little out of their depth
today," he spoke up from beside Jean, "I guess no one will mind if I
come out sounding overly sentimental when I say I'm proud of you, Jean,
love. And no matter where you are and
what you're doing, you'll always be my special little girl." He patted her
cheek lovingly. "And I just know you'll be a perfect wife and a wonderful
mother."
Jean smiled, her eyes
welling with tears of joy.
"Thanks,
dad." She opened her arms and drew him into a hug. "I love you."
"I love you too," he
choked and returned the embrace.
Emma, however, looked
like she was about to heave.
"Girls…I think
I'm gonna throw up."
Before Emma could even
get the chance to think of throwing up, the wedding march began to play and it
was their signal for the ceremony to begin.
Mr. Grey held out his arm to his daughter and, taking in a shaking
breath, she accepted and linked her arm with his own. At a sedate yet regal pace, they both began the walk down the
aisle. Behind them, the bridesmaids,
pageboy and pagegirl followed suit. As
soon as Jean entered the room, the entire gathering turned round to look,
gasping, smiling and chattering excitedly at the vision of beauty before
them. The fervent attention was almost
too much for Jean and she'd barely taken four steps up the aisle when she
suddenly felt her knees go weak. Up
ahead of her she could see Scott standing at the altar, waiting for her with
his brother Alex next to him, acting as best man. And the more she looked at him, the stranger he felt to her. Her vision tunneled. The closer she got to him, the further away
he seemed to be… She was going to
faint. She could feel it. She couldn't do this. She was going to faint…!
She wobbled mid-step,
but her father was there, his hand on her own in a strong, steady grip that
kept her upright. And somehow that gave
her the strength to keep going. She
soldiered on, no longer seeing the people around at her, not even her mother's
adoring look, nor her sister's encouraging grin, nor the faces of so many who'd
turned out for her special day. She
closed her eyes.
I simply can't let them down…
In front of her, Scott
half-turned, peeked at her out of the corner of his eye and gave her a small
smile. The smile she gave in return,
hidden behind her veil, wavered.
And suddenly, at last
she was there, on the altar. She felt
her father give her a last heartening squeeze of the hand before stepping back
and out of sight. Jean stepped up
slowly beside Scott, swallowing hard, her vision hazy, her head giddy. Beside her she felt Scott turn his face
towards her, and when she returned the look she saw his beaming smile. The look almost killed her but somehow she
managed a smile back.
I still love him… I know I do… So why can't I bring myself to do this,
why does it still not feel right?
The last strains of
the wedding march died away and finally all was in place. The vicar looked out over the congregation
and cleared his throat poignantly.
There was not a sound to be heard in the entire church. Even Emma, who by now had realized that
she'd had a little too much to drink, was keeping deadly quiet.
"Dearly
beloved," the vicar began, his voice ringing loud and clear for all to
hear, "we are gathered here today to join in holy matrimony Mr. Scott
Summers and Dr. Jean Grey."
For the next few
minutes the rest of the speech passed over Jean's head like water rolling off a
duck's back. Her heart was thudding
painfully in her chest and her head was swimming. She felt as dizzy as she had that first night in the Hideaway, when she'd climbed the bar and
fallen into Logan's arms… …
No! Don't think about that
now! Don't think about him! I
care for Scott and no matter what I'm not going to leave him. I'm not going to let him down. I simply couldn't. He's a good man and it isn't what he deserves…
"Are you
alright?"
It was Scott
whispering in her ear, his voice full of concern. Jean shook herself and nodded quickly, refocusing her attention
on the proceedings. The vicar was still
talking.
"Lastly,"
the old man was saying, "if there is any unlawful impediment that should
stand between these two, please speak now or forever hold thy peace."
The silence filled the
chamber like a deep chasm. At the back
of the cortege, Rogue opened her mouth then quickly clamped it shut again.
It ain't mah place t' say nuthin'… Even if Ah did think
this was the wrong thing for her t'be doin', this is what she wants an' Ah
can't spoil it for her, Ah just can't…
The silence seemed to
last forever, and Jean could hardly breathe, waiting painfully for those few
seconds of silence to be over as she looked up at the vicar expectantly,
practically willing him to continue.
Come on, please come on, stop stalling on me, please don’t keep me
waiting for -
"STOP!"
From somewhere at the
back of the church there was a crash as the double doors were thrown open
violently with a resounding bang.
Everyone swiveled round in amazement and confusion at this unexpected
disruption. Even Jean was
gobsmacked. Whirling round, she froze
as soon as she saw who it was that had created the disturbance.
There, in between the
swinging doors of the church, stood Logan, still in his leathers and his boots,
his hair a bedraggled mess. There was a
wild look in his eyes, and his breathing was labored. He looked as if he'd run all the way from Timbuktu, he was so
unkempt.
Jean gaped, her mouth
opening and closing as she was really quite speechless.
"This wedding
can't go on!" Logan announced breathlessly yet firmly, his voice carrying
to all four corners of the hall. "It can't go on because it would be a
sham! And," he stared up at Jean
who was standing statue-like at the top of the altar, "because I love
her!"
A ripple of astonished
bewilderment took over the guests as they murmured amongst themselves in
disbelief. Mrs. Grey looked shocked,
while Mr. Grey looked dumbfounded. Just
about everyone looked confused. Some
even thought it was a tasteless prank.
But there was no trace of humor on Logan's face as he cast a beseeching
look over at the bride.
"Jean?"
Something in his
expression seemed to break the spell on her and she lifted her veil, her mouth
finally able to move.
"Logan?
What the hell are you doing here? How on earth did you know- ?"
"I couldn't help
it Jean," he called across the length of the aisle, "I had to see you
one last time. I went back to your
apartment this mornin' and your neighbor, she told me you were at church
gettin' married. I'm sorry, Jean, but I
just couldn't let that happen."
More astonished
exclamations from the guests. The vicar
stood and looked up at the ceiling with a God-give-me-strength
expression, as if this kind of thing were a regular occurrence and he would've
liked just once for the ceremony to go off without a hitch - technically
speaking, that is. Jean, meanwhile,
stood nearby, completely flabbergasted.
"Jean,"
Scott finally spoke suspiciously from beside her. "Who is this man?"
She couldn't lie to
him. She opened her mouth, her voice
stuttering.
"His…his name's
Logan. He owns a bar downtown, the Hideaway… I went there once while you
were away in California… That's how we met…"
There was a short
silence while Scott took the words in; then suddenly he laughed.
"And he thinks
he's in-love with you? He's
crazy!"
"I ain't
crazy," Logan interrupted fiercely. "An' I don't think I love her, I'm here 'cos I know I do."
The words were enough
to stun Scott into silence.
"Logan,"
Jean cut in, shaking her head hard. "Please don't do this. Not know.
I told you, what we had is over."
"Yeah, you said
it was over," Logan conceded, his eyes flashing. "But it ain't what
you really felt it your heart, was it, Red.
You didn't really want to turn
me away, did you?"
"Wait a
minute!" Scott burst in indignantly. "What you had? What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means she
cares for me, bub!" Logan hollered. "And that she knows in her heart
of hearts that this isn't what she wants.
Ain't that right, Jean?" He turned to her, fixing his deep blue
eyes on her timorous green ones. "Search yer heart, Red, and tell me what
I said ain't true. You were honest with
me about this punk because you said you cared enough about me t' tell me the
truth. Ain't that what you said that
night y' came round?"
Jean could say
nothing. Scott merely looked back and
forth between them, his expression outraged. "What?! You spent the night
with this low-life scum while I was away?!" he screeched.
Jean shook her head
vehemently, turning to her fiancé and grasping onto his jacket desperately.
"It wasn't like
that Scott, I promise you!" she beseeched him. "Nothing happened
between us, you've got to trust me!" She halted and her voice became
quiet: "Just like I trust you."
By now a silence had
gripped the entire congregation as they waited with bated breath as to what
would happen next. Rogue was looking
distressed but helpless at the scene that was unfolding before her. Betsy was standing with her mouth open,
secretly thinking that Sex in the City
could go and eat its heart out. Emma,
meanwhile, was swaying dangerously between the two, as the wine she'd been
swigging earlier began to take effect.
Luckily, in the midst of this spectacle, no one seemed to have
noticed. Everyone's faces were turned
to the altar, waiting for Scott's reply.
"Do you think I
could trust you?" he finally said in a quiet voice that nevertheless
carried to everyone's ears. "Especially after everything that's
happened? I was loyal to you,
Jean. I was true to you despite
temptation. Doesn't that mean anything
to you?"
"It does - of
course it does!" Jean cried, holding onto him all the tighter. "And
it's because of that, that I can't leave you, Scott. You gave me a reason to
trust you despite all the doubt I had in you.
That's why I could never lie to you.
That's why you have to trust me, Scott.
Please!"
The two shared a look;
then slowly a slow smile filled Scott's face, and Jean knew that he believed
her. But there was something else in
his eyes, a sadness that filled her with dread…
"I believe you,
Jean," he breathed at last, grasping her hands tightly in his own, his
expression somber. "I believe you.
But I want you to do as this Logan says. I want you to search your heart.
What do you really want,
Jean? Do you really think that I could
make you happy?"
Jean stared up into
his eyes, surprised and troubled by his words.
These were the very questions she'd been avoiding for Scott's own sake,
and now he was the one asking them of her.
She passed a look down across the church at Logan, who was still
standing in the doorway, waiting for her to make her decision. Even he looked taken aback at Scott's
words. Perplexed, her gaze wandered
over to each of her friends, to Rogue, to her family, to all those gathered,
only to find that they could give her no answers. All any of them wanted was
for her to be happy. And what would it
take to make her happy?
How could she even
begin to answer such a question?
"Jean?"
Logan asked quietly, hopefully from the back of the church, bringing her back
to reality.
"Jean?"
Scott echoed softly.
She took in a deep
breath. She'd searched her heart. For the first time in a long time, she was
going to be true to herself. Slowly,
she turned towards Logan, her eyes sad.
"I'm sorry,
Logan," she began gently, "but I can't make any commitment to
you. Not the kind that you want
anyhow. When I turned you away, it was
a decision I planned to stick to, because I can't be unfaithful to Scott - it
just isn't in my nature. But you're
right - I cared for you. I - I still
do. More than anything. I never even imagined I'd meet someone who'd
make me feel so inspired, so passionate and alive, so…so special. And when that man came along, it was too
late. Too late… to love him. Too late to even begin to try."
She paused and turned
away from Logan's deflated, crestfallen look, to gaze up at Scott, who was
standing there quietly, his eyes never leaving her face.
"But I'm sorry
too, Scott," she began again in a regretful murmur. "Because I can't
marry you." There was another collective gasp from the congregation, but
Jean ignored them and continued, bravely holding the questioning gaze of her
fiancé. "Don't get me wrong, Scott - I love you, I really do. But over the years, that love has changed
into something different. You're…you're
like a soulmate to me, my best friend… But you're not the man that I can
marry. I just don't think I could ever
really, truly be happy as your
wife. And…" her voice grew
quieter, "I don't think that I could ever make you happy, Scott. Not
really. You're a wonderful man, and I
don't deserve you. I was willing to
think the worse of you when we hit hard times and it made me realize that I'm
not the woman you thought I was. I'm
sorry Scott. For everything." She
hung her head. "I won't blame you for despising me for this. It's what I deserve."
Their eyes locked
again, and though there was sadness in Scott's, there was a steadfast and resolute
gleam in his gaze. Gently he took her
right hand and kissed it.
"I won't ever
despise you, Jean," he said softly. "Not ever."
His lips lingered on
her hand a moment more before he dropped it.
His head held high, his face calm, he turned and began to walk down the
altar and back down the aisle. Jean
gazed after him, tears clinging to her eyelashes before sliding down her cheeks
as she watched Scott - the man she'd grown up believing she would marry - walk
away. All around the congregation, women
were dabbing handkerchiefs to their eyes.
Even the vicar looked moved despite the fact that his service had been
ruined. Betsy looked dazed and upset,
shocked and distressed. For Rogue, the
entire thing had hit too close to home and she gazed at the floor, biting her
lip hard, trying not to start bawling like everyone else was. Jean had made her decision, and whether for
better or for worse, she believed that it was the right one.
For Emma, however, the
drama had been just too much. As soon
as Scott was out the door she fainted dead away, only to be rescued by a
cluster of gallant suitors who were already eager to lend their services to her
at any opportunity given.
-xXx-
Within fifteen
minutes, the entire congregation had dispersed. Everyone had had something different to take home that day - some
were disappointed and dejected, others disgruntled about missing out on a great
shindig, and there were still others who viewed the entire episode as some real
food-for-thought. Since Scott had
declared no hard feelings, the Summers family had had to grin and bear it,
although the Grey family didn't think they'd be seeing them again any time soon
- which was probably a very good thing indeed.
In the aftermath, Mrs.
Grey was still very much shell-shocked and was taken home to lie down for what
would probably be the rest of the week.
Emma, meanwhile, was still apparently recovering in the church hall, her
male admirers refusing to disperse until she'd told them to do so. Betsy, who'd been trying to get rid of the
annoying group of fussing men, didn't think Emma was going to order them out at
all since she was enjoying the attention so much. Rogue was standing a little away from the group, looking out the
window every now and then with a distracted expression. Much as she was distressed at the whole
thing, her mind was firmly elsewhere.
Jean however, had
escaped to the graveyard for some fresh air and time out. It had got a little cooler, and she pulled
her stole closer about her as she trudged aimlessly through the long grass and
watched the birds circling above. This
wasn't remotely where she'd thought she would've ended up on her wedding day,
but the good thing about graveyards was that there wasn't anyone around to
distract her, so she sat on an old tombstone and turned the day's events over
in her head. Obviously it was too late
to change her mind. She'd upset so many
people, hurt those who loved her most - and yet at the same time, she felt
oddly calm and placid inside, as if a burden had been lifted from her. Much as she hated to admit it, much as it
hurt - she'd done the right thing. She
couldn't have borne a life with Scott feeling miserable, especially knowing he'd
be miserable too. Maybe, in time, they
could be friends again. If that were
so, it would be a long way off. They'd
both need time to heal, and he would need longer than her before he was
ready. She would always love him, but
the love would never be the same again.
Something had awakened in her.
She wasn't sure what it was yet, or even if she liked it, but just the
thought of it - and the new freedom she now had - filled her heart with
determination and excitement.
For the first time in
her life, a whole new path lay in front of her - all she had to do was discover
it.
"Hey."
At the unexpected
greeting Jean looked up, only to see Logan standing hesitantly beside her.
"Hey," she
replied lightly.
"Mind if I sit
here?" he asked, indicating to the space on the tombstone beside her.
"I don't
mind," she answered. "Just as long as the owner doesn't."
He cocked a quirky
smile at her sense of humor and sat down, keeping his distance. Jean sensed that he didn't want to get too
close, despite the feelings she knew he still had for her. She stared at his profile, seeing the tongue-tied
expression of the man she'd come to find so intriguing, so different to any
other she'd ever met, and suddenly she knew - if they were ever going to make
it, it'd take some time for them to work things out as well.
"Jus' wanted t'
apologize," he broke out gruffly, not looking at her, "for spoilin'
things for yer. If I hadn'ta turned up,
you woulda married him and prob'ly woulda been happy. I jus'… I jus' didn't want t' lose you, Red, and I wasn't
thinkin' straight. It made me blind an'
selfish." He lowered his voice and said: "I only hope y' can forgive
me."
He was looking down at
his nails, embarrassed and truly repentant. Jean sighed and looked up into the
clear blue sky.
"You know, Logan…
If you really want to say sorry, it'd have to be for even meeting me in the
first place. Because from the moment I
met you, I've been questioning not only me and Scott, but myself - who I am and
what makes me tick." She paused and looked at him. "I don't know
whether I really would've been happy with Scott or not in the long run. What really matters is, if I'd married him
today I wouldn't have been true to myself.
Whether it was right or wrong of me to let him down… I don't think
marrying him would've been truly what I wanted. And that's something I just can't change, Logan. It isn't."
He nodded quietly, and
for a moment they were silent, listening to the birdsong, not knowing what to
say. Then Logan finally spoke.
"I hate t' ask
this, Red, I really do but… When yer said you still cared for me…" He
stopped, grimaced, then began again. "What I mean t' say is… Do you still
think it's too late to even begin t' learn to love me?"
Jean took in a breath,
knowing it'd been hard for him to ask it.
She looked down at her feet as she swung them back and forth over the
grass. Then she shrugged.
"Honestly,
Logan…" She looked at him. "I really don't know. I think it's a little too soon for me to be
going and making decisions like that, don't you think?"
He bit his lip and
nodded again, understanding.
"Yeah. Too soon for all of us, I guess. But…" He returned her look, holding her
gaze with clear eyes, "I just had t' ask.
A man… he's gotta have hope, y'know."
She half grinned.
"I know. Keep hoping, Logan. You may be surprised."
He smiled, then jumped
down from his seat, paused and turned to her.
"Well… Maybe
you'd be needin' a lift home?"
She thought about it a
moment.
"Yeah, I'd like
that. The limo's already gone, and I
haven't got any cash for a cab."
He smirked.
"Well…when yer
ready, my bike's out front. I'll be
waitin' for yer."
"Okay." She
nodded. "Thanks, Logan."
He gave her smile that
said don't mention it, then turned
and left.
-oOo-
True to his word,
Logan was still waiting outside the church half an hour later. As Jean approached him he stood up a little
straighter and threw away his cigar.
"Ever ridden a
bike before?" he asked her.
"Nope," she
admitted.
"Hmph. Ain't got no helmet. The ride may be a little rough. You sure you don't want a cab? I'll pay fer it."
"You already paid
for my last cab home," Jean commented wryly. "What, you want me to
owe you two favors? Isn't that being
just a little too greedy?"
The side of the mouth
twitched humorously. "Just lookin' out fer you, is all. You've been through a rough time." He
stopped and threw a look over her shoulder. "And it looks like you ain't
the only one."
Jean turned and saw
Rogue a little way off, standing forlornly outside the church, alone. There was a harassed look on the beautiful
Southerner’s face as she glanced down at her watch and back down the road,
searching with a familiar desperation in her eyes. Jean turned back to Logan, laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Could you wait just a
minute, Logan? There’s something I have
to do.”
“Sure thing,” he
grinned. “Just don’t keep me waitin’ too long here, darlin’.”
“I won’t,” she assured
him.
Slowly, Jean began to
trudge up the pathway towards Rogue.
“Waiting?” she asked
expectantly as she neared her old friend.
Rogue looked up, her
cheeks flushed. “Yeah. For Remy. He said he’d be here at two-thirty.” She
lowered her eyelids, her throat tense. “It’s already past three. Ah guess he ain’t comin’ after all.”
Jean gently took her
friend’s hand, squeezed it encouragingly.
Despite her happiness she couldn’t bear to see her friend looking sad.
“He’ll come, Rogue,” she reassured her. “Don’t leave just yet. Wait a few minutes longer.”
Rogue lifted her eyes,
and Jean saw there were tears in them. “Ah’m tired of waitin’, Jean. It’s what Ah’ve been doin’ these past few
years and it’s got me nowhere.”
“Do you love him?”
Rogue swallowed,
nodded. “Yeah. Ah think Ah do.”
“Then he’s worth it.”
For a moment, neither
said anything more. Then Jean stirred,
pressing her wedding bouquet into her friend’s hand.
“I wanted you to have
this, Anna,” she said softly. “I don’t know whether it’ll do any good anymore,
now that the wedding’s off… But I think you’re the one who deserves this, more
than any of us.” She raised a hand and touched Rogue’s cheek affectionately.
“Hang on in there, hun. He’ll come.”
Rogue looked down at
the bouquet for a moment, her mouth trembling.
Then she threw her arms round Jean in a fervent and grateful bear hug.
“Thanks, Jeannie,” she
whispered. “You’ve been such a great friend…You and both the gals… Ah don’t
know what Ah would’ve done without you guys…”
“We’ll always be there
for you, Rogue. Always,” Jean replied, only to be interrupted by Logan hooting her
from his bike. The two broke apart and
passed one another teary-eyed smiles.
“You be happy now, Rogue,”
Jean said, her voice wavering.
“You too,” Rogue
replied, her voice trembling too. “You too, Jean.”
Slowly Jean made her
way back to Logan, who was sitting rather impatiently on his bike.
“Done?” he asked.
“Done,” she nodded.
“Think you can get on
this bike in that dress?” he asked, an eyebrow cocked.
“Logan, today is the
start of a whole new life for me,” she replied with a broad smile. “I think I’m
up to trying just about anything.”
-xXx-
The last of the guests
have finally gone, and I sit outside the church and look up at the beautiful
old building and smile wistfully to myself.
Things always have a funny way of turning out. I always thought Jean and Scott would’ve been the happiest out of
all of us. But then again, there was a
time I thought I was gonna be the first one to get married out of us four, the
first to live in my little home with a white picket fence, some kids, and a
horse.
I look down at the
red, pink and white bouquet in my hands.
Yah never know, Roguey. It
still might just happen…If only the right guy was here…
As if on cue, I hear
the sound of a car approaching and I turn to see a familiar red sportscar park
up on the gravel driveway. My heart
flip-flops as he opens the door and
steps out. He’s dressed in his usual
smart-casual look – even made an effort and put a pink carnation in his
buttonhole. But he looks like he’s been
tearing out all that gorgeous auburn hair of his with worry. I suppress the urge to go over and smooth it
back for him, maybe run my hands through it and comfort him. Somehow I can tell that this isn’t how we’re
going to play it.
He finally sees me
standing there and walks over slowly. I
know how he’s feeling. Nervous,
anxious, thinking I’m going to reject him again. But I’ve always known he’s stubborn as a mule. The jerk just doesn’t give up – and for the
first time I’m thankful for it.
He stops a few feet
from me and for a moment we stare at each other and there’s nothing we can
say. I want to run up to him and kiss
him. I want to thank him for still not
giving up on me even after all the cruel things I said to him. But somehow, I just wasn’t born to be the
leading lady in Hollywood romances, so I just stand there.
“Yah too late, Cajun,”
I say instead. “Ceremony’s ended.
Everyone’s gone.”
He shrugs, grins that
same old grin. “Only came for one person, chere.” He sees my teary eyes, my
pale face, and he runs a hand through his hair, his expression suddenly
sheepish and distressed. “I’m sorry I’m late, chere. De traffic’s been pilin’ up de past few blocks or so… I didn’t mean t’ make you wait. Truth is, I was thinkin’ – I was fearin’ –
dat maybe, when I got here, you’d be long gone anyway…” He trails off. I say nothing. How can I explain that I would’ve waited for the moon to come round,
even if it was only just for him?
Nevertheless he takes my silence as a reproach. He hesitates, says: “Y’ look beautiful,
Rogue.”
This time I smile to
hear him say it. “Y’ don’t look half bad y’self. Pity you came so late all the ladies had to miss yah handsome
self.”
“I t’ink dis time I
can live wit’ de disappointment,” he jokes somewhat apprehensively. “Just as
long as you’re here to appreciate me in de meantime.”
I allow myself to
chuckle. It feels good. Here we are, wanting desperately to make
things up, and we end up doing the same old bantering routine, just like
always.
“Ah, Remy,” I sigh.
“Look at meh. Ah always thought
everythin’ in mah life would’ve been sorted out by now.” I look back up at the
church and murmur: “Time was, Ah thought Ah
was the one goin’ t’ be walkin’ down the aisle.”
“I know,” he reassures
me softly. “Me too.”
He’s still being so
kind, and I know I don’t deserve it. I
look down and twirl the bouquet round nervously in my hand.
“Ah’m sorry about
Belle, Remy,” I finally manage to get out. “An’ Ah’m sorry ‘bout all those
things Ah said t’ yah down in Caldecott.
Ah was cruel and Ah didn’t mean ‘em.
Ah just thought Ah owed Cody somethin’, and that somethin’ didn’t
involve a future with you.”
“I know.” He shrugs,
trying to make light of the matter, but I know he’s feeling deeply inside. “I
ain’t Cody. I felt de same way when
Belle left me. De truth is, Rogue,
ain’t no one who’s ever gonna be the same as either of dem. Maybe no
one can measure up t’ Cody. But…”
he pauses, and I know it’s difficult for him to say it. “…I’d like t’ try.”
I look back down at
the bouquet, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat.
“Nah. Ah never expected yah t’ live up to
Cody. Yah are a low-life Cajun swamp-rat after all. Yah treated me like dirt and infuriated me and made me want t’
slap the livin’ daylights outta yah.” I look up and manage to smile a watery
smile. “But yah were also kind ta me, an’ took care of me and held me close
like no one since Cody ever did.” I pause and take in a huge breath. “Ah guess
that’s why Ah found mahself fallin’ in love with yah.”
It’s only when I say
the words I never thought I’d find myself saying again that he gathers the
courage to cover the distance between us.
I can’t wait any longer. I drop
the bouquet and throw my arms round him, and he wraps his arms round me and we
hold each other tight and it’s just the way it should be.
“I couldn’t stop
thinkin’ ‘bout you…” he whispers.
“Ah couldn’t stop
thinkin’ about you since day one,” I reply chokily.
“Been missin’ your
insults ever since we got back from Mississippi…” he tries to go one better.
“Been missin’ those
dirty innuendoes of yours…”
“Been missin’ dat
gorgeous bod lyin’ next t’ mine de past few weeks… not t’ mention dose luscious
lips o’ yours…”
“Remy…” I say, pulling
away from him and taking his face gently between my hands, “Shut up an’ kiss
me.”
He smiles, that cocky
smirk that brings back the old Remy.
He’s only too happy to oblige, and he bestows me with a searing kiss
that sends my toes curling with desire.
For once there’s nothing between us, and I can see as clear as day – this is right. So maybe he’ll never be Cody.
I don’t want him to be. I’ll
never be Belle to him, and it’s okay.
At least we’re both brave enough to try again.
We finally break apart
and he gazes into my eyes with that sexy, suggestive look I would’ve shunned
not so long before. His hand caresses
my cheek and he says: “Guess we gotta lot to catch up on, chere.”
“Oh no, not tonight,
Cajun,” I joke. “This time we’re gonna do things the right way round. We’re
gonna talk for a change. And it ain’t gonna involve any sassin’, any
fightin’, or any dirty jokes.”
“Aw,” he pouts.
“An’ then, if you’re a
good boy,” I add huskily, grabbing his lapels and pulling him in close again,
“Ah just might give yah somethin’ else t’ remember me by.”
He grins. “Does it
happen t’ involve any bondage lessons your friend Emma might’ve been teachin’
you?” he asks, his hands slipping over my butt and pulling me in close, letting
me feel the full effect I’m having on him.
“You wish,” I murmur
in reply, before finding his mouth with mine and kissing him passionately once
more.
-oOo-
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