Chapter 1
The night before the wedding, Waylon Haynes's childhood friend Olivia Stone posted on her feed wearing my wedding dress.
She was shyly holding onto Waylon's arm.
Her caption read: [Let me experience the happiness of having Waylon one last time.]
I commented: [Maybe I should just call off the wedding? Otherwise, you'll only get to wear that dress for one day.]
The next second, the post was deleted.
She buried her face in Waylon's chest, crying.
She whimpered, "You're going to belong to another woman tomorrow. I was just feeling a little sad, that's all… Why is Taylor mad at me? Boohoo…"
Waylon instantly changed his background photo to a selfie of the two of them, cheek to cheek.
He called me.
Waylon snapped, "She grew up with me. To her, I'm basically a brother. If you keep acting all salty and jealous, maybe we shouldn't get married at all!"
Jealous? Me? Not even close.
Honestly, I was really considering calling off this whole wedding.
By the time Waylon got home, I had already finished writing out the handwritten letters to let our friends and family know the wedding was off.
Waylon picked up one of the letters, glanced through it with a lazy grin, and asked, "You wrote these?"
I was getting ready to take off my makeup and just said, "Yeah."
"No wonder they look so ugly," he chuckled.
I paused for a moment.
Back when I first fell for him, watching him tear up the racetrack, I wrote him my very first love letter, and he made fun of me just like this.
I was bummed out for ages, practicing like crazy, block letters, cursive, even fancy calligraphy. But all he ever said was, "It's fine. Even if your handwriting is ugly, I still love you."
It wasn't until his friends saw my handwriting and were totally blown away that he whipped out one of his own letters, written in childish bubble letters, and tossed it at them.
He said, "Seriously, have you guys never seen nice handwriting before?"
Turned out, that letter was actually Olivia's handwriting.
I didn't answer him, just kept taking off my false lashes.
When I didn't respond, he came over with a cheeky grin, scooped me up into his arms, and ruffled my hair.
He said, "Alright, I'm done messing around. I brought you a present."
He slid a Chanel perfume and lipstick set over to me.
I glanced at the shade, popped open my vanity drawer, and pulled out the exact same lipstick, except mine was all scratched up and the label was peeling.
I said, "Thanks, but I already have one."
Waylon paused, then his face soured.
He gave it to me when we hit our one-year anniversary.
I wasn't into rose pink at all, but since it was from him, I still wore it when I met up with his friends.
Olivia had just gotten back from overseas, and when she saw it, she burst out laughing.
She said, "Oh my god! Not even my mom would wear a lipstick this outdated!"
I had no idea what to say, but Waylon just laughed and gave her cheek a playful pinch.
He said, "Alright, not everyone can pull off any shade like you do."
Olivia giggled and playfully tapped his chest.
She teased, "You're so annoying! It's only because you always pick the prettiest colors for me."
When I realized all of Olivia's lipsticks were chosen by Waylon, I finally confronted him, and we had our first real fight.
It all started because I'd just seen Olivia show off her new lipstick in a post.
Her caption read: [Guys, if you're picking out lipstick for a girl, you better choose carefully, since you'll be the one kissing it off her lips.]
Waylon actually got mad for once.
He snapped, "We grew up together. If I ever wanted something with her, you wouldn't even be here! If you keep acting all extra, maybe we should just break up!"
That fight ended with me crying and begging him not to leave me.
That lipstick, a reminder of all my hurt, got locked away in my drawer.
But Waylon acted like nothing ever happened and showed up with another one, exactly the same.
He looked kind of sheepish and pulled me into a hug.
He said, "Sorry, baby. I've been so busy lately, I must've grabbed the wrong shade. I'll get you a new one right away. Pick whatever you want."
He added, "I want you to know, this time, I really do want to marry you."
I didn't say a word.
This was already our third attempt at a wedding.
The first time, Olivia snatched my engagement ring and slipped it on during the engagement ceremony. When I made her give it back, Waylon said I was too uptight to take a joke and called off the wedding.
The second time, when the pastor asked Waylon if he wanted to marry me, Olivia giggled and shouted "No" before he could answer. I yelled at her in front of everyone and made her cry, and Waylon just shrugged off his jacket and announced he was done with the whole thing.
He said, "Married or not, she's always gonna be my sister. If my bride's gonna make her feel miserable, I'd rather stay single for life."
"Waylon, three strikes and you're out," I said, my voice flat.