“A funeral?” I said sarcastically.
“Yeah.” He jumped up and cleared his throat.
“Mike?” I protested.
“Em, pass me that rose?”
Emily placed a flower from the vase behind her into his waiting hand. Not the red one. Why the red one?
“Okay.” Mike squared his shoulders and positioned himself in the centre of the room. “Friends.” He turned his head and winked at me. “We have gathered here today to mourn the passing of a loved one.”
“Mike, this is silly.” I wiped cold tears from my cheeks.
“David Knight, beloved boyfriend—arch enemy.” He raised his brows a few times, smiling. “We farewell the pieces of him which keep our dear Ara in pain.”
I folded my arms and slinked down on the lounge.
Mike snapped a petal from the rose and let it fall to the floor before his feet. “We farewell his tender kisses.”
“Erk, this is so lame,” I said.
He laughed, ignoring me, and dropped another petal to the floor. “We farewell his tight embrace.”
“Mike?” I allowed a small smile.
He stood taller and placed his fist over his heart, completely saturating the room with melodrama. “We will never again look upon his dreamy, emerald-gaze.” He looked at me, and I laughed. “Or his smooth, flowing locks.”
Emily buried her face, shaking with an overly hysterical cry.
“This—” Mike threw another petal, “—is for the way he said I’ll love you, forever.”
“Mike, stop it,” I said, feeling really awkward.
He raised one brow. “And this is for the way he held you in his arms—how he made you feel safe.”
“Mike?” My protest became weak as the memory of David seeped into everything around me.
“This is for the way his eyes lit up when he kissed you.” He spoke in a deeper, whispery voice as he looked beyond my eyes—to a place only David knew. “And this is for all the days you spent together by the lake.”
I stared through my teary-cloud, totally bewitched. “How did you know all that?”
Mike threw the rose in its entirety to the floor, then sat beside me again. “Guys talk too, Ara.”
“He told you all that?”
“Ara. Let him go, baby. You’ve got Em, and you’ve got me.”
Emily nodded and took my other hand; I shook my head.
“Baby, love is only true when it’s reciprocated. But he’s not here—” Mike looked around, “—I haven’t seen him anywhere. Not when you’re sad, not when you were recovering—not even on our wedding day.” Mike smiled then. “Ha, I half expected him to burst into the church and demand you run away with him. But, Ara?” He waited until I looked at him. “He didn’t, baby. He’s gone, and you need to let him go. I’m here. I love you. Don’t you know that?”
I nodded, fresh tears spilling from my eyes. “But I don’t want to let him go. I love him—even if he doesn’t love me anymore.”
“Then how do you think Mike feels,” Emily said, “to feel exactly the same way about you?”
I looked at Mike; he frowned at Emily. God, I think in future I’ll just cry in my room. “I know, Emily. Okay. And I feel bad about that, but—”
“No! Ara.” She shot to her feet. “You don’t know! You’re just saying that, but you’re not fooling anyone. You threw away a perfectly good chance to be happy, God—” she slammed her arms into her sides, “—Mike would throw himself in front of a bus for you. You rejected him, left him at the altar, and he’s still here—waiting. For you!” She started out of the room, her voice breaking as she said, “You’re so damn selfish sometimes.”
“Emily?” I stood up, too, and followed her to the kitchen. “Don’t say things like that and then walk off. You need to take that back.”
“No!” Emily stopped by the bench and folded her arms.
“Take it back!” I stomped my foot.
“No—it’s true, Ara, all of it.”
“Why? How does it make me selfish just because I chose not to marry Mike?”
“Because you love him, Ara, and he loves you. Don’t you get it?” She shook her head. “You have everything. Everything, and you throw it away. You want David because David isn’t here; you wanted Mike when he wasn’t here. Now he is—you don’t care.”
“That’s not true. I always wanted David. It was never my choice to let—”
“You see?” Emily dropped her hands, holding out her palms. “I just told you how much you’ve hurt Mike, and all you care about is David. I am so sick of hearing his name, Ara. I swear, if I have to hear that name one more time—”
“David,” I spat, my eyes narrowing.
“Ara. Grow up.”
“David,” I said again.
“Ara?” Mike said, leaning his shoulder against the archway, his arms folded across his chest.
“David,” I said again, raising my brow.
“Ara. I’m not playing games.” Emily edged forward slightly. “Don’t push me.”
“No, Emily. You need to get over it. What’s the big deal if I talk about him all the time, or cry myself to sleep because he’s not here? I—”
“You threw away your fiancé. You don’t eat. You don’t live, you don’t enjoy life—you don’t run, you can’t watch movies, you won’t read—Ara, what’s it going to take to get you to be human again?”
“David.”
“Er!” She stomped her foot. “He’s. Not. Coming. Back.” I tensed when she walked closer and grabbed my shoulders. “Listen carefully, Ara. David. Is. Gone. Get over him.”
“Why? Because you got over Jason?”
Emily drew back internally, her lips falling apart as my words struck her. “You know nothing about that, Ara.” She very slowly let go of my arms and turned away.
“Don’t I, Emily?” I spat her name out and saw Mike, in my peripheral, rise slightly from the wall, on the edge of a hesitant step toward us. “I know you never shut up about him. I know you mention his name, mention your heartache every chance you get. And it far outweighs my pain, doesn’t it?” I touched my chest. “I’d know nothing of what you suffered, would I? Because you’re the only one who—Ah!” A sharp sting broke across my lip, jolting my head to one side as my last words ended in a squeal of shock.