Situationship [Complete]

35 | Pictures

A rehearsal dinner afterparty. Who the hell thought this was a good idea?

The company of the bridal party and spouses eases the awkwardness of the group, but it's still there. It feels like everyone is holding it together for the sake of Mary and Ryan, but waiting to pick it back up later on. As much as I'd enjoy punching Brett in the face, I don't care about that. The only thing on my mind is the conversation Teagan and I will have when this dinner is over. Time crawls when I'm anxiously waiting for her answer.

She has been buzzing around during the rehearsal, coordinating the guests, dinner, toasts, photos, everything. I did my job, keeping the guys out of her way. Only when dinner was over did she get to sit down and relax.

She's so hard to read. Directly across the table from me, she doesn't avoid eye contact or look afraid to let me down. She just looks tired.

The wedding party sits around the oval table made of carved driftwood, the remnants of our meal and rounds of champagne scattered across its surface. Brett leaves my side, Ritchie laughs on my other, but my eyes are on Teagan. She smiles at Ryan's banter with Mary, her chin resting on her fist, and I can't stop staring.

I swear this hour has felt like five.

Brett gains my attention when he pulls over a screen and places a projector at the end of the table. I let out a heavy sigh, remembering the apology tour was after dinner. How long is this bullshit going to take?

He excuses the bridesmaids and wives, leaving only the guys, Mary, and Teags. Here we go.

"I wanted to do something special tonight," he says. His tone and cadence sound like he's presenting an idea to a table of business partners. "First, I want to apologize to everyone, especially you, Jer. And you, Teags. Last night got a little too lit, and we said some things. We are a family, and while we fight like siblings sometimes, there is so much love between us."

So much effort to grovel. Kalo fae . . .

"I wanted to refocus on the love we have for each other, and a reminder of where that love came from," he explains. "Mary, you're marrying into this crazy bunch, so it's time you know the truth," Brett says. "I'm sorry for what I'm about to show you."

My brow twists in confusion, but when Ryan's preschool picture shows up, I catch onto what's happening.

He wore glasses back then, the thin wire frame ones with the nose pads old people wear. He had the same goofy smile and bright blue eyes, but his cheeks were at least three times as plump. It's a picture we used to tease him with constantly, even though he was one of the cutest kids ever.

"We go back. Way back. And that means we know a lot of shit about your mans," Brett continues. "For instance, he was a pretty cute kid. Don't know what happened."

We all laugh. Even while looking nervous, Ryan's smile is huge. The image changes to our class photo from first or second grade. It makes me smile.

"The squad met when we were practically babies. There were just twenty of us in our elementary school class, and our group was the most lit by far."