Always The Wedding Planner, Never The Bride Part 34

She jerked toward Andy and asked, "Wh-why would you do that?"

"Why?" he repeated. "Cris is part of Miguel's men's group."

"How did you-How-?"

She felt Emma's hands guiding her away from the counter, and she numbly allowed her to lead her to one of the chairs at the dining table where she plunked down. A rush of heat moved over her as her pulse continued to race.

"She's just a little taken aback," Emma said as Andy joined them at the table. "Just give her a minute?"

Andy considered it, then sc.r.a.ped another chair up in front of Sherilyn and sat down. Leaning forward, he cupped her face in his hand.

"Honey? What's going on?"

"Andy-" Emma started.

"Give us a minute, Emma? Please?" he asked, and she reluctantly backed away.

Sherilyn looked into Andy's eyes, and she thought the concern there had colored them bluer than usual.

"I-I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asked her. "What's going on?"

She didn't see Cris approach them, but she felt him there. She looked up over the top of Andy's head and blinked hard to make sure she wasn't dreaming. About thirty seconds of imprisonment, her eyes stuck inside of Cris's, and she finally hopped to her feet and ran to freedom, straight past them all, through the shattered gla.s.s, down the hall and up the stairs, praying all the way that Emma would follow.

She didn't. But Andy did.

Wedding Themes: The Black-and- White Ball RECEPTION DECOR.

Black tablecloths with white china service Black napkins might be embroidered with white replicas of the wedding flower Since silver works in nicely to the theme, centerpieces can be created by an arrangement of silver candlesticks holding white candles tied with black ribbons FLOWERS.

Bouquets of white flowers, such as calla lilies, orange blossoms, and/or orchids, bound and tied with black ribbons Some flowers, such as white carnations, are hearty enough to be tipped with black for a dramatic effect THE CAKE.

Clean lines are best, as with a stacked square cake White fondant with black floral designs Black and white candy crystals can be used to create an unexpected sparkle

20.

Sherilyn, what is going on with you? Do you know Cris?"

"Y-yes."

"You do?"

Andy sat down next to her on the bed. They both faced forward, side by side, in silence; for how long, Andy couldn't be certain. The wheels in his head spun so noisily that he struggled to keep up with all the scenarios b.u.mping into one another.

Finally, he turned toward her and asked, "Will you talk to me?"

Tears began to flow, and Sherilyn's eyes grew stormy as she gazed at him. "I never wanted you to know."

"To know . . . what?"

"How horrible I am," she whimpered, dropping her head into her hands.

"Horrible?"

Sherilyn couldn't be horrible under any circ.u.mstances. For all the things he might not have known about her, he knew that for absolute certain.

"Have you killed a man?" he asked seriously.

Her head popped up, and she frowned at him. "What?"

"Well, you didn't, did you?"

"Well." Andy thought she considered it far too deeply before replying, "Of course not."

"Then as long as I don't have to find a body stashed in the freezer next to the Green Giant peas, I think I can handle whatever you have to tell me."

She sighed, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly. "You're crazy."

They fell silent again, except for Sherilyn's sniffling. After a while, Andy asked her, "Would you rather I talk to Cris?"

"No!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide again. With a sigh, she added, "Please don't do that."

"Do you want to talk to him?"

It was almost a whisper. "No."

More nothing again. Just about the time that Andy thought his eardrums might explode from the silence, two short knocks sounded on the bedroom door before Miguel pushed it open and poked his head inside.

"I'd like to help," he told them. "Can I come in?"

Andy waited for a response from Sherilyn. When it didn't come, he nodded at Miguel.

He seemed young, for a pastor; Andy guessed he was still in his twenties. His dark hair barely scuffed his collar, and a thick fringe of lashes softened his dark eyes.

His thin lips tilted into a knowing smile, and Miguel knelt down in front of Sherilyn. Taking both of her hands into his, he closed his eyes and softly stepped right into a short simple prayer.

"Let Your will be done here, Lord G.o.d."

Sherilyn glanced at Andy, and relief flooded him. Just the momentary reconnect felt comforting somehow.

"I've spoken to Cristian," he told her, and she looked up at him with such concern in her eyes that Andy felt the weight of it pinch at his gut. "Many times. I didn't know it was you, of course, but I've offered him counsel, prayed with him. He's become a good friend."

She nodded and stared at their hands. "How is he?" she finally asked.

"He's good," Miguel stated like a promise.

"Really?"

"Yes. He's found his healing."

"Is he still here?"

"No. He left."

She sighed. "Has he found someone?" she asked.

"Not yet. But he's working toward being able to trust love again."

"Look," Andy said, and he stood up and stared down at them. "I think I have a right to know what's going on here."

Sherilyn angled her head and looked up at him, her face softening with emotion. "You're right. You do."

"Would you like me to leave you two alone?" Miguel asked her.

She said, "No," at the very same time that Andy replied, "Yes."

"Sherilyn." Andy rubbed his forehead and raked back his hair. "What's going on?"

"Andy," she began, and she pressed her lips together for a moment while Miguel stood up and crossed the room. He sat down at the head of the bed and nodded to Andy to sit beside Sherilyn. When he did, Andy grazed her hand with his finger.

"Cristian and I," she started again, but trailed off.

"Yes?"

He battled the urge to reach over and shake it out of her. He couldn't bear the myriad scenarios threatening to rise up and complete that fragment of a sentence.

Out with it, please. Just say it. You and Cristian, what? Robbed a bank together and did jail time? Accidentally ran over a homeless guy with your car and went on the run from the law? What could you have done that was so "horrible"?

"We were . . . engaged."

Andy swallowed. He drew in a deep breath. "Engaged."

"Yes."

"That's it?" She seemed to be thinking that over, so he asked, "When?"

"We dated while I was in college, and he proposed after graduation."

"Was there a ring?"

Was there a ring? he repeated to himself quickly. What does that matter?

"Yes," she replied, and the way she looked at him for just a split second, he knew she wondered the same thing.

"Well, what happened?" he asked her. "I mean, to make you so upset like this. I a.s.sume it ended badly?"

"I . . . I mean, I-" With desperation in her eyes, Sherilyn looked to Miguel. That pained Andy somehow, but he didn't know quite why.

"Would you like me to tell him?" Miguel asked.

Sherilyn shrugged one shoulder and turned away.

"Sherilyn broke things off with Cristian," Miguel explained.

"And he didn't take it well. You have to understand that Cristian was in love, and-"

"I left him at the altar," she rasped without turning around.

"He was standing there, waiting for me, and I just . . . left him. With no explanation, no nothing. Just left."

Andy rubbed his jaw as he thought it over. "Why did you do that?"

"I wasn't ready. I panicked," she said, pivoting toward him and looking so intensely into his eyes that it burned. "Instead of talking to him, I just ran, and Cristian-"

Again, she turned to Miguel for help, and Andy spontaneously took her face into his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Talk to me."

"Cristian . . ." she said, and the tears began to flow again.

"Cristian's response to Sherilyn's departure was to take a handful of pills, Andy. He tried to kill himself."

Andy's heart almost stopped. He had to draw hard to fill his lungs with oxygen again as Sherilyn threw herself down on the bed and began to wail.

He watched her for several moments, and her pain was nearly too much for Andy to bear. He nodded Miguel toward the door, and he struggled to force his arms around her and drag her to him. It felt a little like saving a donkey from the path of a speeding train, but she finally gave in and melted into his embrace. As the door clicked shut after Miguel, Andy began to rock Sherilyn to and fro, smoothing her hair, and whispering into her ear.

"It's okay," he promised without questioning the truth of it. "Everything is all right. You're all right."

Nearly half an hour of that ticked past without the exchange of a single word beyond his rea.s.surances. Every now and then, the collective cheer of their guests reminded Andy that life had gone on outside that room. Emma, Jackson, and Miguel had likely taken on the game day duties, filling plates and pouring beverages, all in an effort to take the focus off the meltdown of their hosts.

After a while, Andy pushed back the tangled hair from Sherilyn's damp face and kissed her lips softly.

"You shouldn't kiss me," she whimpered. "I don't deserve your kisses."

"Why?" he asked. "You're not going to leave me too, are you?"

Her pause caused something to jump at the pit of Andy's stomach.

"Sherilyn."

"Well," she started, then paused to blow her nose. He tried not to laugh at the honk! noise it made. "I don't want to. But I've been wondering lately with all the trouble we've been having . . . if maybe it's kind of a punishment for what I did to Cristian."