Deep End

“It’s you.” He reminds her quietly the next day, his arm around his lower back as one of the ushers leads them to their seats.

When they had woken up that morning, everything had felt normal, albeit a slightly different normal than before. The break down, the confessions, it seemed to have worked to open them up to each other. They’d bantered playfully over breakfast, gotten ready in comfortable silence. He’d fitted her against the front of him in the crowded elevator and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder blade that made her shiver. They’d walked hand in hand through the lobby and out across the courtyard to where the wedding was set to take place. Then he’d felt a physical shift in the atmosphere around them, his fingers were tingling by the time he realized how tightly she was now squeezing his hand. Kris looked up and walking across the courtyard from the opposite direction was Bridget and she was obviously dressed to impress. Wearing a strapless, shimmery silver dress that hit just above mid-thigh, she had her hair pulled up in a high, elegant bun, her eyes lined dark and dramatic. There was no denying she looked good and if they had still been together Kris would have been falling at her feet. He may have fallen at her feet just last week. But today, he puts his arm around Skylar’s lower back and reminds her that she’s the one he wants to be with.

Skylar doesn’t say anything, but she gives his hand a much gentler squeeze before relinquishing her death grip. He puts his arm around her shoulders and holds her tucked into his side through the service. It’s short and sweet and Kris whispers translations for the French parts of the vows into her ear. He doesn’t miss the way she dabs at the corner of her eyes, nor does he miss the way Bridget’s gaze is burning a hole in the side of his head. When the ceremony is over, Kris is quick to pull Skylar into the crowd where they can disappear on their way to the reception hall. When they arrive and find their place cards, Kris is relieved that their table is one across the room from the singles table where Bridget is now sitting. He can still feel Bridget trying to catch his eye and his only plan is to do his best to ignore her, hopefully avoid her all night. He has no idea what he would say to her if she did track him down.

Dinner relaxes him, he figures Bridget can’t get up and come over while they’re being served. All too soon dinner is over, people are mingling and Kris is constantly looking over his shoulder. The reception is not the place for a confrontation with Bridget, especially when he knows that Skylar is still feeling nervous about it all. Bridget seems wise enough not to come over and pull him away while he’s with Skylar, so he figures if he sticks with her like he has been since the day they met he should be okay. But of course, because nothing ever goes right in Kris’ world, something has to break.

“Dude, help me out.” Max slides into the empty seat next to Kris, scanning the room with wide eyes.

“What’s up?” Kris asks, trying to follow Max’s gaze.

“I’ve got a clinger.” Max whispers conspiratorially, “Over there, in the green dress with the flowers.” He jerks his head to gesture across the room. “Come with me to the bar, I need a buffer until I find another lady.”

“Don’t be a baby.” Kris mutters, “Just go over there and tell her you’re not interested.”

“Don’t be a jerk.” Max counters, “Come on man, have my back. Besides, your lady needs a drink.” He shakes Skylar’s empty glass in Kris’ face.

“Go with him.” Skylar cuts in, “Big baby needs protection from the pretty lady. And I could use a drink. And you’ll have to talk to her eventually.” She gives Kris a knowing look and he flushes.

“It’s not that I-”

“I know.” She cuts in reassuringly, “It’s okay. Go.” With a huff at Max, Kris gets to his feet, squeezing the back of Skylar’s neck reassuringly as he follows Max to the bar, trying to angle his body so his back is to ‘the clinger’ creating a barrier between her and Max.

They get to the bar without issue and order drinks, Kris standing with his back to the girl in the green dress, Max hunched over in front of him, trying to peer inconspicuously around him. Kris taps his foot nervously, watching the bartender with anxious eyes. He sets a drink down in front of Max, who has spotted a leggy redhead at the end of the bar and is sidling his way towards her, still trying to use Kris as cover. From the corner of his eye, Kris sees Bridget bee lining her way towards the bar. He turns back to the bartender, who’s making his way over with a drink in each hand. Kris clenches his fist, wills the guy to walk a little faster. Just as the bartender makes it over and slides the drinks across the bar, Bridget appears beside him.

“Can we talk?” she asks, in the quiet voice she uses when she either is or is trying to sound vulnerable. Kris’ grip tightens around the glasses until his knuckles are white and he glances slowly and deliberately over his shoulder at Skylar, who is trying to pretend like she’s not watching him out of the corner of her eye. Bridget follows his faze.

“Please, Kris.” She puts her hand on his arm, squeezing his wrist and staring at Skylar.

“Fine. Let’s talk.” He says shortly, pulling his arm out of her grasp.

“Not here. Can we go outside?”

“Fine. Fine.” He huffs in frustration and turns to leave. Bridget follows, trying to tuck her arm into his. He pulls away, giving her a sidelong glance.

“Bridget...” he says warningly, taking another step sideways to put more distance between them. Bridget tries to look abashed, but he doesn’t miss the look she shoots over her shoulder at Skylar, who is watching them go, worrying her bottom lip. He turns, walking backwards for a few steps and holding up a hand, mouthing ‘five minutes’ to Skylar, repeating it three times to make sure everyone understands, including himself. He’s not going to let Bridget ruin this by sucking him back in the way she has done in the past. He follows Bridget out into the empty lobby and they stop against the far wall, next to a gigantic potted fern.

“So?” Kris finally says after they’ve stood staring at each other in silence for nearly five minutes.

“I broke up with Adam.” She says softly, looking up at him through those incredibly long eyelashes.

“I heard.”

“I broke up with him because I still love you.” Her voice cracks a little and she reaches for him, but he steps back.

“I’m sorry.” He says sympathetically, because he doesn’t think she could fake this, “But I’m with Skylar. You know that.”

“She doesn’t know you like I do.” Bridget insists, “We were in love. We made a mistake, I made a mistake, ending this. We can try again, it will be better this time, I know what I want now.”

“So do I.” Kris says firmly, “I want to be with Skylar. That’s it Bridget. It’s been over between us for a long time, that won’t change.” There is a long moment of silence in which she studies his face for a lie. Upon finding none, he can visibly see the change in her eyes.

“You don’t even know her.” Her tone is angry, biting.

“I know her.”

“You met her like a week ago in a convenience store.” She cocks her head in a devious sort of way, revealing the truth she has known all along.

“How do you know that?” It’s probably not what he should say, but it’s what he spits out.

“Oh please. I know you Kris. I saw the way you were touching her, all awkward, the way you looked at her. Poor little Kris was all alone and that little girl jumped in to save you, hoping for a big pay day.” It’s vicious and it reminds Kris of all the reasons why Bridget’s good qualities would never have been enough to keep him around.

“Shut up.” He hisses in anger and she actually flinches, “You don’t know her or us. You don’t know me, not anymore.”

“Why would a stranger just jump in like that?” Bridget is relentless, “Come all the way here with you? She’s looking for the big bucks Kris, don’t be a fool.”

“Stop it. This is not you. Stop being a vindictive little bitch. You’re better than this.”

“I’m trying to protect you! I love you!” she’s grasping at straws, angry, bitter and sad.

“You’re trying to hurt me.” He says flatly, “I’m sorry that you are hurting, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to talk about Skylar like that. You have no idea what we are like, her and I. Don’t pretend for a second like you do.”

“How can you do this?” Bridget questions incredulously, “How can you throw away everything we had for so long for a girl you’ve known for a week?” Kris shakes his head.

“I’m not throwing anything away.” He says firmly, “Things ended between us for a reason. We were in love.” He relents, “But not the kind of love that keeps people together forever, or we wouldn’t have ended. Everything was gone long before I met Skylar.”

“How do you know we’re not supposed to try again? We could be together forever.” She won’t give in, she’s cornered him against the wall and the plant. He puts his hands on her arms and holds her steady, looking into her face.

“I have known Skylar a week. I think I am falling for her. Things with her, they are different than they ever were with you. Better for me I think.” As he suspected, her eyes fill with tears and for a moment, there is a sharp pain of guilt in his chest. But, for all the bad times they had, they had good times too, so he supposes the least he owes her is the truth, especially if it will let her move on. Bridget wriggles violently until she’s jerked out of his grasp, then presses the heels of both palms into his chest and shoves him as hard as she can. It doesn’t really move him, but he stumbles back a little anyway just to make her feel better.

“You’re a jerk.” She declares, “That girl will never be better than me and when it ends between you, I won’t be waiting around.” She spins on her heel and storms away. Kris lets her go. He thinks in a few days, maybe even by tomorrow, she’ll come to apologize. As well as she claims to know him, he knows her too and even Bridget will regret that eventually.

After he takes a few deep breaths and can feel his toes again, he pushes off the wall and walks back into the reception hall in a daze. He flops down into his seat next to Skylar, who is nursing a tall glass of something and debating with Lindsay and TK the next actions of Max’s clinger, who has apparently been staring daggers at Max and his new girl all night. When he sits down, Skylar looks over at him, the space between her eyebrows wrinkling with concern.

“You okay?” she asks, resting her hand at the juncture where his neck joins his shoulder. “You look pale.” Her fingertips brush his neck and he leans into her touch.

“I’m fine.” He says unconvincingly. Skylar trails her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, taking his hand.

“Let’s get some air.” She stands and pulls him to his feet.