Author's Note: I first got the idea for this fic when I was in Paris this July. It sounds a lot more romantic when I say it like that, but I actually think part of it came from a dream I had, and then I got the idea randomly and had to write it all out in my notebook, of course. This is weird, as I got very few ideas there (normally I come back with full notebooks when I travel). And then, of course, as I was writing it, I barely glanced at that sheet. I promised myself I'd start working on it when I got back, so I updated my other fic first. I kept seeing all the new episodes, and they were really inspiring me, but I couldn't write Wanting Casey. So I wrote this instead, and I think it's been possessing me for the better part of a month... but I'm really proud of it.

The vows and ceremony are slightly modified by myself and courtesy of The Common Book of Prayer (the online version, not the actual book, since I was too lazy to go downstairs). The poem is courtesy of Sappho, as it says in the story. Thoughts and poetry are in italics. I do not now nor have I ever own(ed) Life with Derek. I own nothing except the middle names, Liam, Isabel, Marti's boyfriend (Spike), and the pastor.

What You Need to Know: This is a one-shot, as in no sequel, no more chapters. Casey's 27. Derek's 28. Edwin's 23. Lizzie's 22. This fic is also done in six distinct scenes. Oh, and Casey's father remarried and then got divorced or widowed. There are some slight, slight, slight, almost non-existent spoilers about Sally, but other than that, I don't think there's anything. Just assume through the third season has happened. And that's about it, since I think everything else is explained in the story. Oh, I'm also taking some liberties with Edwin and Lizzie's birthdays, since I don't know when they are.

Mega thanks go out to Stephanie, Donna, Belle, San, and Alli for putting up with listening to me whine over the story (especially the ending), looking over parts of it, and telling me what they thought.

Reviews are heavily appreciated, (and they make me happy) but they are not mandatory. I hope you enjoy the story as much as if not more than I enjoyed writing it.


Casey McDonald was finally getting married. She was now a sensible woman, fully grown in every sense of the word. No longer was she the hormonal, tempestuous girl she'd been in high school. Eight years of university (both undergraduate and graduate) had refined her into a calmer lady, cooling her hot temper. Gone were the dramatics, the fits when things didn't go her way. She seemed a completely different person, subdued yet matured; she'd finally grown into her personality and accepted herself for who she was. There was a certain serenity in that. She didn't obsess over every little detail anymore, and she'd learned that sometimes it was best to let things go before they consumed her.

In reality, a great deal of the change in Casey was probably due to her future husband. Unlike her, he had always been laid-back, and during the time they'd been dating he'd rubbed off on her quite a bit. He had relaxed her slowly but surely, and now she was barely recognizable as the control freak she'd been in high school. It wasn't easy to let go, to give up control, but he'd helped. However, on special occasions, she reverted to her previous behavior. Her wedding was, naturally, no exception. Casey was, after all, still a perfectionist, and why should her wedding be any different?

She wasn't a Bridezilla, but she came pretty close. She grew more exacting with every day that passed, more anxious every minute. The present moment was an exception, strangely enough. She was staring serenely at her reflection in the mirror, wondering who the stranger staring back at her in the mirror was. She barely recognized herself; she didn't look like herself today. She looked too good to be true, and maybe she was.

Her dark, sleek hair was swept up in an elegant bun, smoothed down by mousse and secured by numerous bobby-pins and copious amounts of hairspray. Iridescent silvery-white powder covered her eyelids, while a thin line of black eyeliner traced the shape of her eyes, making the crystal blue irises stand out all the more. Her eyelashes were dark and long, curled impossibly upwards with the aid of mascara. Her shimmering cheeks were slightly pale yet rosy with blush. Her lips were ruby red and glossy, a brighter, flashier shade than she'd usually wear. Her face was curiously blank of expression as she didn't want to ruin the perfect picture with a frown.

In truth, Casey could scarcely believe she was getting married. She'd never had much success with guys. All her relationships in high school had been on and off emotional rollercoasters that gave her more heartbreak than they were worth, even when Derek didn't intervene. She was so lucky to find him, she thought with a soft smile. She knew that many a woman wanted her fiancé, and why shouldn't they? He was a catch, a true sweetheart, almost perfect. Casey loved him more than words could express, and she wanted nothing more than to finally be his wife. Pre-wedding jitters and cold feet were unknown to her; she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was doing the right thing.

Still, Casey couldn't help but feel anxious. She checked her appearance once again in the mirror, calculating eyes searching out any possible imperfections. There could, of course, be no flaws; it was her wedding day, and she too must be perfect. She dared not touch her hair, although thankfully there wasn't a single strand out of place. Her make-up and glowing skin remained flawless. Nervous, almost shaking hands smoothed her dress. Though not a superstitious woman, she even had the required items: something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. But she checked again, just to be sure she had everything. Her mother had given her the earrings she now wore as a wedding present; her own mother had given them to her on her wedding day, as had her mother before her. The earrings were classic, brilliant-cut diamond studs (of at least a carat each) set in platinum. She carefully adjusted the brand-new tiara on her head. It was also done in diamonds and platinum, but it was rather modest. Casey was not an ostentatious woman. It was second only to her dress in cost.

On her right wrist, she wore a plain silver bracelet she'd borrowed from her sister- her real sister, Lizzie, not Marti. It had been polished especially for the occasion. The metal was thin, but the bracelet was wide, tight, and elaborately crafted. It was one of those bracelets that needed to be open and shut to stay on the wrist. She wore a string of pearls around her neck; the pearls were smooth against her collarbone. It had been a present from her groom on the first anniversary of their engagement, which had been six months ago. They'd had such a long engagement because Casey wanted to get married when she was out of school and settled in her career. So they'd waited anxiously until she graduated from law school and he'd gotten his master's, and now, a month later, it was June, and they were getting married. At first she'd protested the expense, but he had said that she deserved it for sticking with him for five years ("and you know it wasn't easy," he'd added with a mischievous smile). He was right; it hadn't been easy, but it was worth it. A smile formed on her lips as she ran her fingers lovingly across the pearls.

Her dress was made of silk and tulle and many other soft fabrics that rustled around her legs. She wore matching open-toed stiletto heels underneath it. The dress was a pure, pristine white. The straps hung off her shoulders yet did not fall. It was a floor-length ballgown-style dress with a drop-waist and a fitted bodice, full and sweeping at the bottom and close to her skin at the top. Truly, it was a dress made and fit for a princess as well it should be. It was a designer dress, fitted especially for Casey, and thus easily the most expensive piece of clothing she'd ever bought. It was, no matter what anyone else said, a small price for perfection. She'd dreamed of this day ever since she was a little girl, picturing it, idealizing it, and even waiting impatiently for its arrival ever since she turned twelve. The thin net veil had been gently placed on her head too, behind the tiara, but it was currently pushed back, away from her face and out of her way. Her father would pull the veil back down to conceal her face before the ceremony.

In short, she looked ethereal and more beautiful than she would've ever thought possible. She sprayed perfume on her wrists, rubbed them together, and put a little behind her ears. She didn't put any on her neck, seeing as, well... the wedding night. She knew from past experience that her soon-to-be-husband did not like the taste of perfume. After that, there was nothing left for Casey to do, so she sat down at the vanity table and drifted off into her thoughts. However, as she was wont to do, the more analysis and thought Casey engaged in, the more she started to worry and later freak out. Seeing as it was the eve of her wedding, such an event was inevitable. Her anxiety level started to rise. What if he doesn't want to marry me? What if someone objects? What if something happens to ruin the ceremony? What if he decides he doesn't want me anymore? He's still young, maybe too young to settle down. Maybe he wants to try new things. Maybe he'll leave me at the altar.

Casey shook her head lightly, wondering why she was thinking these awful things. There was just a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, and try as she might, she couldn't make it go away. In fact, the more she tried not to think about it, the more she wound up thinking about it. She wanted some comfort, someone to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. Nora was busy supervising last minute preparations, or she had been. Casey looked up at the clock. Ten minutes had passed, with twenty left until the actual ceremony. She felt like she was slowly going insane. She drummed her perfectly French-manicured nails against the table, but the tapping only drove her closer to the edge.

Finally, an eternity later, while Casey's horrid thoughts continued to plague her, her sister opened the door and came inside. She had come in to tell Casey something, which she should've realized was a mistake. As soon as she caught the look on her sister's face, Liz knew she had bigger problems than whatever she'd had to tell Casey. With a mental wince, she remembered how stressed out her big sister had been with Aunt Fiona's wedding. She steeled herself to the fact that her sister's anguish and worry would be about a hundred times worse.

By all accounts, Casey had been a surprisingly fair bride to her maid of honor. She had picked out a dress she knew Liz would like, even if it was a pale rose color. The dress was modest in most respects; it had long, semi-transparent sleeves that had been sewn on as per Lizzie's request, and it reached the floor. However, the top of the dress was composed of a corset that laced up in back and provided Liz with more cleavage than she knew she'd possessed. Other than that, it hung on her from waist down like a sheath (as opposed to Casey's ballgown-style skirt). In short, the dress flattered her, instead of making Lizzie look like the little sister she was. Despite this, Liz was still uncomfortable and awkward; the dress was so clingy, and the corset was closing in on her ribs. Liz wore her long hair down and back in a mass of carefully contained curls. Her make-up was minimal: brown mascara, peach eyeshadow, clear, cherry-flavored lip-gloss, and no blush, as Lizzie had naturally flushed cheeks and easily freckled skin. Her face was soft and sweet, peaceful, unusually blank and worn in ways Casey's wasn't, while her sister had sharp, bold, expressive features. There was a natural freshness, an air of self-contained satisfaction about Lizzie; she possessed a kind of complete sensibility and stability that her sister did not, not quite.

Liz had been expecting something like this to happen. She might not have seen Casey often in the past eight years, but she knew her sister. Casey did not cry but frowned instead. Liz fought the urge to roll her eyes and rushed to her sister. "What's wrong, Casey?" Liz asked sympathetically, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. Casey sighed heavily, staring at her sister in the mirror.

"You look nice," Casey replied distractedly. Liz smiled awkwardly, not accustomed to the praise. Casey had always been the pretty one. She merely shrugged, willing her sister to tell her what had her looking so... miserable. She watched carefully for any sign of change in her sister's demeanor towards her, feeling her heart race, but there was nothing. Casey still treated her the same, caught up in her own selfish affairs or not. "What if he doesn't really want me, Liz? What if we get married, and a few years down the line he decides he wants something else? I don't want him to resent me for tying him down, Lizzie," Casey wondered finally. It was impossible to keep the tremor out of her voice.

Casey looked down mid-lamentation, so she failed to see the haunted look on her sister's face. She failed to see just how tired and thin Lizzie looked, the way she'd winced when Casey had asked her those questions. How could she possibly know about the treachery that in Liz's heart beat daily, or of the cruel jealousy, or worse... hope... that fluttered in her baby sister's chest like a fragile hummingbird? No, she couldn't.

Lizzie knew she was expected to say good things to her sister, instead of what she really wanted to say, and for a moment, she hated that. She hated that she had to talk Casey through a breakdown on her wedding day. But she knew what Casey needed to hear, so she started to speak. "He does, Casey. He wouldn't be marrying you if he didn't... I can't say whether or not he'll decide he wants something else, but sometimes, Casey, you just have to trust people. And he's not going to resent you; he loves you, and he knows what he's getting into by marrying you," Liz assured comfortingly, assuaging her sister's blues as best she could. She patted her sister's bare shoulder softly. Liz was a good enough actress that Casey barely missed the bitterness in her tone. Liz hadn't wanted to say those things, those false benedictions, those half-lies, those awful truths, but she had managed to choke them out nonetheless. Neither sister cried, although both felt like it.

Casey looked up from her hands. "What if I'm not good enough for him?" she inquired plaintively. Hearing the mournful tone in her sister's voice, Liz wanted to strangle her. Casey suddenly had self-esteem issues? Why on Earth wouldn't she be good enough? She was practically perfect, Liz thought grimly. If Casey was bad, then Liz was an unrepentant sinner. In some ways, however, Lizzie was, so maybe Casey did have something to worry about. She took a deep breath and calmly refrained hitting her sister.

"You're perfect, Casey," Liz stated wearily, even a little sarcastically. There was more than an undertone of bitterness to it, but Casey failed to notice this. Casey was every guy's dream. She was good at everything; she was smart, pretty, nice, funny, and sweet. Even her flaws were cute and remotely tolerable. Every guy she'd ever met had some kind of a thing for her. For once, Lizzie wished her sister would realize just how lucky she was. Others weren't so fortunate. Casey didn't understand, though; she shook her head, frustration written across her features.

"You don't get it, Lizzie!" Casey protested dramatically. Oh, I get it a lot better than you'd think, Liz thought irritably. She forced down her anger towards Casey. Casey looked down at her hands almost shamefully, as if she were embarrassed. For a moment, she looked up at Liz, mouth open, as if she was going to say something. Her cheeks hadn't burned like this for ten years. But the words never came. She shook her head, completely forgetting her former train of thought. "What if I'm not enough? What if he wants to try new things? I don't want to have a husband who wakes up every morning regretting marrying me because he didn't have time to shop around," Casey panicked. She had begun to pace and simultaneously wring her hands.

Liz frowned; for once, her sister had a good point. The groom was still young, still living in what should be his wild, impulsive days. Casey was anything but wild and impulsive; she was reserved, faithful, and ridiculously responsible. Liz was, however, by all definitions of the word, a good sister, so she knew her place. It was her job to smooth Casey's hair and calm her down and tell her it was all going to be okay. "He loves you, Casey, and you love him too. He's a good guy, Case, a smart one at that, and he knows what he's doing. He wouldn't marry you if wasn't what he wanted," Lizzie replied softly, honestly, feeling her own vulnerability. She felt on the verge of hysteria herself.

Then Liz pressed her sister's hand and smiled weakly. Casey was smart enough to know that her sister was right. Lizzie always had a habit of putting her sister at ease. That being said, Lizzie immediately relaxed once a smile broke on her sister's face. Casey nodded calmly, pacified. She stopped pacing and sat down in front of her vanity. "You're right, of course. You're always right, Liz," Casey admitted, smiling slightly. Liz nodded vaguely, a thin smile and a contemplative look on her face. And so are you, Casey, she thought with more than a trace of bitterness. Casey just stared at herself in the mirror for a moment like she didn't quite recognize her reflection, like the reality of the whole situation hadn't sunk in yet.

And then, suddenly, it hit her. I'm getting married. Casey rose hastily, stumbling slightly in her heels. Because she was a good sister, Liz reached out and steadied her concernedly. Giving her sister an expectant look, Liz tightened her grip on her sister's wrists unconsciously. "I'm getting married today, Lizzie. I'm going to be his wife!"she whispered ecstatically, disbelievingly. She even jumped up and down and started dancing (dancing!)for a bit before suddenly grabbing her baby sister and pulling her into a tight embrace. The pained smile dropped off of Liz' face. She hadn't needed the reminder. "I can't believe it," Casey breathed, "It's like a fairytale come true."

Lizzie's eyes watered fiercely, and she tried to tell herself that it was just allergies. Of course Casey would get her perfect little fairytale. Fairytales always came true for girls like Casey... or, rather, princesses. And I'm no princess, Lizzie thought glumly. Princesses don't play soccer and do Tae Kwon Do. They were graceful and beautiful with long hair and clear blue eyes, and their favorite color was always pink. In other words, everything she wasn't. It didn't seem fair that Princess Casey should get everything: the perfect guy, the perfect wedding, the perfect engagement ring, the perfect career, the perfect life... and she should be just struggling to survive.

Liz pulled herself away from the hug, suddenly smiling again, even when all she wanted to do was cry. It was literally killing her to be happy for her sister, but she would do it until the death. It suddenly occurred to Lizzie that this marriage would be for death; Casey took her vows seriously, even literally. She committed herself completely to every pursuit, and marriage was certainly no different. Lizzie stared momentarily at her sister's engagement ring, transfixed. Diamonds are forever, and so is this marriage.

Casey's eyes were dry solely from sheer willpower. "Thanks, Lizzie," she murmured happily. "You always know what to say. I couldn't have asked for a better baby sister," Casey replied gratefully. Liz' smile widened slightly, almost turning genuine. She wasn't going to ruin Casey's big day since, after all, she'd just saved it, but, just this once, she wished she wasn't the baby sister.

"No problem," Lizzie said then, because it was what was required of her. "I'll see you in a few." Liz still had a few things to do before the wedding. She had to make sure the church was ready, complete with pastor, and decorated to Casey's exacting standards. She needed to know that the flowers were there and fresh, that the reception hall was prepped for the reception, that the caterers had the right time and place and were finished, that the other bridesmaids and groomsmen were in pristine condition, that guests signed the guest book and sat in their proper places, and, of course, that the groom wasn't going to back out at the last moment. So Liz shot her sister one last smile over her shoulder and left to go do Casey's bidding, but she didn't congratulate her.


It was mere moments before the wedding. The guests had all arrived, and all were seated in their proper places. The pastor was there, sober and serious, ready for a wedding. All the flowers and decorations were hung perfectly. The organist was playing the music Casey had selected. Casey, however, was still in her dressing room, unlike most of the wedding party, who were clustered just outside the doors to the sanctuary. Ever a traditionalist, Casey believed the bride shouldn't see the groom before the wedding. Aside from this, Casey was waiting for her groom to arrive; the best man had a habit of being late to everything. Her mother and bridesmaids were with her, fussing over her. To be accurate, Lizzie was sulking; Emily was fussing over her appearance in the mirror, and Marti was so excited she was almost jumping up and down. Nora was the only one worrying over Casey.

"Oh, I'm losing my little girl!" she exclaimed tearfully. Lizzie bristled at this; Casey was not the baby. She was the elder daughter, and apparently Lizzie didn't exist. Then again, Liz wasn't surprised. Everyone always paid more attention to Casey. Casey attempted to soothe her mother. She wasn't losing her; Nora was merely gaining a son-in-law. Nora was excited for Casey, and she couldn't be happier. She loved the man her daughter was marrying like he was her own son. Casey wiped away her mother's tears calmly, straightening up and smoothing down her mother's clothing. Nora was wearing an elegant pale green dress suit with matching heels. Liz had carefully pinned the white lily corsage to her mother's lapel. Wisps of gray hair were beginning to appear at the temples of her still-chic bob.

The bridesmaids were dressed in hot pink, a warm color, not a torrid, garish tone. Casey was classy all the way. While the tone wasn't entirely flattering to Emily, who had preferred a pastel shade of yellow, Marti loved it (although, like Lizzie, she really would've liked something in a loud, screaming purple). The dresses were full-length and empire-waisted. Casey knew Marti had wanted something a little more skin-tight, but Emily had specifically requested something to flatter her curves. Casey had compromised. Emily's hair was a mass of carefully pinned up curls with tiny white flowers woven in. Emily wore glossy pink lip-gloss and champagne-colored eyeshadow. Marti, as usual, was a bit more unconventional. Her waist-length hair was pulled back in a high ponytail to show off the bright pink streaks she'd dyed to match the dress. She wore dramatic dark gold eyeshadow and bright red lipstick. Casey didn't exactly approve, but Marti, per usual, didn't comply with her wishes. She had always been rather stubborn.

Casey forgave this because Marti was only sixteen. She hadn't matured yet. It was, after all, her wedding day; Casey was allowed to be a little condescending. Liz stood in the corner, ignored as usual. On some levels, she was relieved. The day of the wedding being nigh meant that never again would she have to travel to find venues or help her sister register or plan bridal showers or bachleorette parties. Suddenly her sister seemed to notice her. "Liz, could you go check to see if my groom and his best man have arrived yet?" Casey made the pretense of asking, but it was really an order. Lizzie snapped out of her reverie and nodded in a way that she hoped was sufficient. Casey motioned for her to come closer, so Lizzie reluctantly stepped closer to her sister.

Then Casey leaned over and requested that Liz give her groom a message once she found him. "Tell him this... I love you, and there's no place I'd rather be than here with you now. I can't wait to be your bride," Casey whispered in Lizzie's ear. A cold chill ran down Lizzie's spine. She didn't want to deliver the sickeningly-sweet message, but she would anyway. Liz silently left the room, feeling the gloom and severity of her life, in search of the groom. Fortunately, she found him kissing his mother on the cheek, waiting with the rest of the wedding party. The best man had gotten him there alive. Casey's groom, of course, looked perfect. For a moment, Lizzie stared on in awestruck silence, but then she cleared her throat and approached him. She muttered Casey's message, hating how delighted he looked to hear it.

She found herself feeling thrilled and despondent that Casey hadn't asked her to kiss him for her. It was better in the long run, but... Oh, what Lizzie wanted never mattered anyway. The groom tried to give her a message too, but her lagging ears didn't detect it. Liz didn't have time for pleasantries, though, so she organized the wedding party (minus the bridesmaids) in the order they would walk down the aisle and then went off to fetch her own mother. When she arrived, her mother was kissing Casey softly on the cheek and adjusting her veil. Liz felt awkward about ruining the beautiful moment, but she cleared her throat nonetheless and asked her mother to come with her. George escorted the two mothers down the aisle. The groom's mother, a stunning woman with dark reddish-brown hair that had been put up in an elegant chignon, was wearing a long, form-fitting sleeveless burgundy dress with stilettos that had been dyed to match. Her fingers glittered with jewels, but she wore a simple black lace choker and cameo around her neck. Like the bride, she wore diamond earrings, but hers were grander: dangling, gleaming drops.

Curiously enough, George seemed to have some confusion over which side to sit on, but eventually he was forced to sit down next to the mother of the groom and shoot his wife longing glances behind her back. The groom was next in line. He waved goodbye to Lizzie with a casual smile and irreverent wink over his shoulder that did more to her than she was willing to admit. So Lizzie watched him open the door, turn his back on her, figuratively walking out of her life. The door closed behind him, closing on hope. Then she watched him emerge, beaming for Casey, until he stopped walking and stood there, waiting for her all-too undeserving sister to arrive. At this point, Lizzie painfully tore her eyes away from the sight and retreated to Casey's dressing room, where she fetched the rest of the bridal party. Casey and Lizzie were last out the door.

Next out was the obedient and cute as a button little flower girl, Isabel, Casey's six-year-old sister. Isabel had long, shiny brown hair that had been put up for the occasion with lovely white flowers in it. Isabel, like her eldest sister, wore a white dress. Like Casey and Lizzie, she was a quiet and well-behaved child. She took fistfuls of white rose petals and slowly dropped them on the aisle one by one until she reached the front. Once there, she walked over to the brides' side and sat down in the empty space next to Nora. When her father arrived, she would sit next to him. Following her came the ring bearer, William Venturi, Casey's ten-year-old brother. Like his all of his older siblings, Liam had dark, long, messy hair. He also had Casey's blue eyes, and, unfortunately, Derek's attitude, due to the fact that all of his older siblings spoiled him, especially Casey and Derek. He was wearing a pint-sized suit, dress shoes, and a black tie, all of which he resented wearing.

Grumbling underneath his breath, he went to sit down next to his mother, still clutching the pillow since none of the bridal party had yet arrived. Nora chided him lightly, warning him not to ruin his sister's big day. Liam rolled his eyes and turned to look at Isabel, whom he had seen perhaps only once or twice. Pretty, he thought dimly. He was extremely bored.

The real music started to play, and the bridesmaids and their respective groomsmen started to walk down the aisle, arm in arm. Marti was first down the aisle, accompanied by some strange friend of her brother's. She wasn't at all happy to be walking down the aisle with him, as he was utterly repulsive and made repeated advances towards her despite her age and systematic refusal. However, Marti was a good actress, so she fooled everyone. Nonetheless, her walk down the aisle was more of a death march, and an almost improperly brisk one at that. She was more than a little glad to part with him and go stand alone on the third step.

Emily came down the aisle next, walking extra slow to soak up every minute of attention that she could. She was walking arm-in-arm with a rather attractive friend of the groom, Dan. She wouldn't mind getting his number, even in spite of the age difference. Eventually, however, they had to separate and go to stand on their separate sides. Emily was on the step just below Marti. Liz was the last bridesmaid down the aisle, clutching the arm of her stepbrother, fittingly the best man, with white knuckles. Luckily, he didn't bother to complain. He knew when to keep his mouth shut. She was truly reluctant to leave her sister, knowing that she would soon be a married woman. She walked at a medium pace, wanting to get the wedding over with, but also dreading its arrival and wishing to prolong it. At the front of the church, both collected the rings from their little brother and went their separate ways: opposing sides of the first step.

And then the organist played the wedding march. Here comes the bride...


Casey wasn't nervous at all. She was utterly serene with the prospect that she was soon to be a married woman. She loved her groom more than anyone else. In fact, if anything, she was anxious to get the ceremony over with so she could start married life. Her father stood next to her, poised in front of the door, which was opened a crack. It was almost time to go out there. Her father was wearing a black tuxedo with a pale blue tie that complimented his teary eyes. "My little girl's all grown up now," Dennis said, drawing in a shaky breath. He found himself missing that little girl, wishing that she hadn't ever grown up. Suddenly she was like a stranger, an adult. He rubbed her cheek softly, lovingly looking her in the eyes. "And pretty soon, you won't be mine anymore," he replied sadly. Dennis found himself wishing he could've spent more time with her. All the things that had seemed so important then weren't, not compared to this.

Unlike Nora, he wasn't hysterical, just a little depressed. "I'm so proud of the way you turned out, Casey, and I hope this guy knows what a great girl he's got on his hands," he murmured, quirking a smile. Normally Casey would've corrected his father and told him the groom's name, a name which he certainly remembered. Dennis only wanted the best for his daughter. He wanted someone to cherish her, to appreciate her, to treasure her, to treat her like a princess... But, most of all, he wanted someone to love her with his whole being. He hoped this guy could give that to her.

Casey blushed shyly and nodded. She had no reason to doubt him. Then Casey embraced her father one last time as a single woman. Dennis savored the moment, hating how it felt like he was losing a part of his daughter forever. Eventually, however, Casey had to pull back. When she did, both of them had tears in their eyes. "You're so beautiful," her father whispered, utterly awestruck. Casey smiled and blinked back the tears, and then Dennis grabbed the veil carefully. He brought it down over her face reluctantly with shaking fingers. For a moment, he wondered if he could keep it together. Since when had he become so sentimental? Dennis shook the uncertainty away, vowing to keep it together for Casey's sake, at least.

He didn't want to give her up. Nonetheless, it was his job, so he mustered a fake smile. Phony lawyer smile staying firmly in place, he turned to face the church doors, pushing both open to let Casey through. Casey was a bit startled, so she grabbed his arm with more force than usual. It was enough to surprise him into walking down the aisle. Everyone stood up to look at veiled, beautiful, blushing bride Casey. There were a few gasps and a lot of staring, but Casey took it all in stride. She soaked their praise in like a sponge and seemed all the brighter for it. She walked straighter and more confidently; she was truly radiant. None of this, however, registered to Casey.

All Casey saw was the prize at the end of the aisle, her perfect bridegroom. He was staring at her with such love and affection; his jaw had actually dropped at the sight of her. She couldn't believe how good he looked. He looked so sharp and so handsome in a black tuxedo. Sure, he wore suits all the time for work, but it never ceased to amaze her just how good he looked dressed up with his hair combed neatly. He was perfect in every way, as clichéd as that was; he was smart, sweet, thoughtful, ambitious, patient, funny, cute, and an excellent conversationalist. He was also a very, very excellent kisser. They'd been living together for the last three years, but they'd had separate rooms, and he'd known not to push her.

The walk down the aisle, although only a few meters, seemed like an eternity to Casey. She'd been waiting for this day for so long. Smiling dazedly as she let her father lead her, Casey thought about the proposal. It had come, oddly enough, as a total surprise. She hadn't pegged him as the type to settle down, especially not so soon. I never even knew he was thinking about it. Then again, it wasn't entirely a surprise; they'd been dating forever, and she'd brought it up a few times. She never thought he was a romantic. Life was funny like that. You could know someone for ten-eleven years and still not know everything about them.

The proposal had been everything most girls could merely dream of. It was completely and wholly original and so... him. He didn't take her out to dinner to celebrate something and slip it in her food, nor did he pop the question at dinner. He didn't take her dancing or give the ring to her as a birthday present. There was no music involved; everyone knew he couldn't sing. There were no roses or wine or video cameras involved, and he hadn't sprung for a skywriter or anything corny like that.

He had given her a rare, beautifully bound volume of poetry. First edition, Sonnets from the Portuguese, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, as if she could forget. He knew her too well. At first she protested, saying it had obviously cost too much, but he'd been overseas for a semester studying at Oxford, and he said he'd found it in a second-hand bookstore. Nonetheless, it was in near pristine condition, far too good for him not to have been searching for it for quite some time. He'd given it to her upon coming back, professing just how much he'd missed her. "I missed you, Case, with every breath. I thought about you every day, Casey. I was miserable without you. I thought I was losing my mind. I should never have left you," he'd murmured apologetically, kissing every inch of her skin he could reach. The book was a present, and moreover, he'd declared, a promise—a promise that he would never, ever leave her like that again.

I chalked it up to absence making the heart grow fonder.

She soothed him as best she could, but somehow they wound up arguing nonetheless. As usual, it was over something stupid and meaningless; she'd been picking a fight, still upset he'd wasted so much money on her. Casey remembered how he'd just walked out of the room without saying a word, completely turning his back on her and leaving her alone. So much for promises, she'd scoffed, but that time she had been wrong. It had never occurred to her that the fight was just a cover. She flipped through the pages of the book lightly, absentmindedly, until she noticed something in-between the pages. It was a scrap of paper, a thin note folded in fourths and pressed until it was almost flat. Sonnet 22, When our two souls stand up erect and strong. He would've written in the book itself had he not known how much she disliked that.

Curious, she pulled out the small piece of paper and unfolded it, being careful to avoid tearing it. It was his slanted scrawl all right, and it read: "May our entwined souls stand together, bound to one another, for eternity. Marry me." There was his messy signature as a confirmation at the bottom, the love he'd signed. She'd gasped, completely stunned. And there he was, gently placing a hand on her shoulder; she turned around. There he was, smiling, suddenly on his knees, ring in hand. And it is a beautiful ring, Casey mused happily. She'd grabbed him then, placed her hands on either side of his face, and stared into his loving eyes. His eyes were warm and sweet like melted chocolate. What she saw in his eyes was all she needed to know. So Casey kissed him then, long, hard, and passionately. My answer is yes.

He was beaming so brightly it was like his smile lit up her world. He slid the ring on her finger gently, and she had started crying at the mere sight of it there, on her finger, staring up at her. She had never been so happy in her life, except now, when she was going to marry him. He's the love of my life. So it was with a glorious smile that Casey walked down the aisle, floating on clouds.

However, moments before she was to reach her intended groom, she locked eyes with the best man. She'd always disliked him out of principle, but if it was at all possible, her dislike had grown into full hatred, the kind that increased as the wedding drew nearer. The dislike was mutual, but both tried to keep it under wraps as they both liked to pretend they were too mature for games like this. He hadn't exactly welcomed the union, and it seemed like he did whatever he could to drive a wedge between them. The smile didn't falter on her face, but she glared daggers at him through the veil nonetheless. It was habit, after all, and she wasn't about to break tradition on her wedding day. She didn't bat an eyelash or even blink until the pastor began to speak.

Then Casey stopped glowering and looked up at the reverend like a good girl. Her eyes flickered briefly to her groom's. Her favorite stepbrother smiled encouragingly, mouthing that he loved her. There was suddenly no one else in the room but the two of them. The pastor was a dim, distant voice, her father was an arm anchoring her to the ground, her bridesmaids blurs of pink fabric, the rest of the guests just background noise. She found her own shy smile widening to match his. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to celebrate the union of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony," the reverend began, gesturing to Casey and her beloved. The couple exchanged excited looks.

"The union of man and wife in heart, body, and mind is intended for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity; and, when it is time, for the procreation of children. Therefore, marriage is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and deliberately," the pastor continued seriously. Her stepbrother's cheeks flushed slightly at the mention of children. They'd never spoken of it, but she wanted children. It's too soon anyway. She suddenly noticed that her soon-to-be-husband looked quite nervous indeed. Casey silently cursed the minister for making it sound so serious.

"Into this holy union Casey McDonald and Edwin Venturi now come to be joined." The minister paused for a moment to glance around the church briefly. Casey felt anxious, but she held it in. She wanted the ceremony over with so she could have her groom all to herself. "If any person can show just cause why they may not lawfully be married, speak now or forever hold your peace," the reverend stated almost ominously. A tense silence followed this proclamation. For a moment, Casey felt sure that someone was going to ruin it all. In fact, she tore her eyes away from Edwin's gaze to watch Derek. He looked restless, like he wanted to say something but was biting his tongue, like he had to tie his hands down to keep himself from interfering.

Casey was so busy staring at Derek with steely, hawk-like eyes that she failed to notice her own sister fidgeting horribly. Lizzie bit her lip, desperately wanting to say something, to say no, to scream it, but she wouldn't do that. She couldn't do that to her sister and Edwin. So Liz stayed firmly in place, but she was restless nonetheless, her heartbeat fluttering like a caged bird. The silence seemed to drag on for an eternity, but no one broke it. It looked as if the peace would be held forever. The wedding continued. "Who gives this woman to be wedded to this man?" the officiant questioned, looking straight at the beautiful bride.

Dennis stepped forward. "I do." He shot Casey an encouraging look. She bestowed a glorious smile upon him and then turned to embrace him. Dennis couldn't help but notice that her hug was stiff. He tried to attribute it to the heavy dress she wore, the veil that covered her eyes, even their slightly strained relationship, but he still noticed the lack of warmth in her arms. Then Casey turned from him, tears shining in her eyes, and faced the pastor. Her father gently pushed her in that direction, towards her groom. She dropped her father's hand and took her future husband's instead. Dennis stood there a moment longer, staring at the back of her straight neck. It felt like he was losing her forever.

Dennis kept up the facade of a smile, and he finally retreated, turning his back on the happy couple, and sat down in between his daughter and his ex-wife's son. He smiled down at Liam, who rewarded him with a scowl. Strange, he couldn't help thinking, doesn't Liam usually like me? His youngest daughter curled up against him lovingly, watching her big sister's wedding with wide, excited eyes. "And now, the groom's brother and best man, Derek Venturi, will give the wedding reading," the pastor announced suddenly.

More than a few faces in the crowd looked surprised at this. Even the wedding party looked a bit shocked; most of them hadn't even known there would be a wedding reading. It was too late for jealousy, however. The minister stepped aside to make room for Derek. Derek walked, or, rather, swaggered, up to the podium. He leaned in to the microphone, knowing all eyes were on him, even Casey's, and taking comfort in that fact. "Two Fragments by Sappho," he stated quietly, looking down. Then Derek looked up, locking gazes with Casey. His pronouncement was intensely serious.

"Love holds me captive again... and I tremble with bittersweet longing," He murmured huskily, too huskily for a wedding ceremony in the middle of the day. His reading was fierce, delivering his message with a raw, unusual sincerity, dripping a kind of electric sensuality. "As a gale on the mountainside bends the oak tree... I am rocked by love," Derek breathed, still staring at Casey, as if he was staring into her. Casey could no longer keep up with the intensity of his stare, the dark fire burning in his eyes, so she broke the stare and looked at the ground. Her cheeks were flushed. Then Derek stepped down suddenly, almost pushing past the reverend. He looked down silently, didn't say a word. He didn't even look up until he reached his place on the bottom stair, and then his eyes only stared out accusingly at the couple.

Other than that, he was completely stoic. Only his blazing eyes expressed his deep disapproval, and the only person who recognized it for what it was was Casey. The pastor cleared his throat and resumed his position, slightly surprised by the all too passionate reading. Derek had, however, done one thing; he'd woken them up, inflamed their senses. The minister regarded Edwin first with a discerning eye, seeking out any hidden flaws. "Do you, Edwin Anthony Venturi, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?" he asked steadily.

Looking at Casey sideways, Edwin briefly nodded his consent. "I do," he whispered. Casey smiled radiantly, squeezing his hand.

The pastor granted them a rare smile before turning to Casey. "Do you, Casey Alexandra McDonald, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live?" he inquired softly, already knowing her answer.

Unlike her groom, Casey didn't nod. She didn't need to; she had been completely sure of her answer for a full year. She'd practiced the words, over and over again, whispered them silently to herself, under her breath. They slipped off her lips easily. "I do," she replied with a wide smile. She had every reason to smile today. Edwin, the man of her dreams, was only minutes away from being hers for the rest of their lives. The marriage license had already been signed. The vows and exchange of rings were only a formality.

"Repeat after me, Edwin," the minister ordered calmly. "I, Edwin Anthony Venturi, take Casey Alexandra McDonald to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until death do us part," he recited, waiting patiently for the young groom to start speaking.

Edwin nodded nervously, smiling lopsidedly at Casey. "I, Edwin Anthony Venturi, take Casey Alexandra McDonald to be my lawfully wedded wife..." He paused and seemed to forget the words for a minute. Casey's breath caught in her throat, but he moved on quickly. "To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer... in sickness and in health..." Edwin's pauses grew longer, as if he were struggling with the words and losing. Yet he alleviated Casey's fears with a simple smile; that alone was enough to satisfy her. "To love and to cherish... until d... until dea... death," Edwin stuttered, somehow unable to get out the words, before suddenly stopping. Casey gazed at her almost-husband, confused. Is he ill?

The pastor too looked puzzled by the way he seemed to freeze, wide-eyed, mouth still half-open. He waited a few moments for Edwin to speak, but no words escaped the open mouth. Frowning, the reverend decided to kindly help the groom. He's just nervous. It happens to everyone. He's nervous about committing himself to one woman for the rest of his life, and he's forgotten the words. Still, glancing the groom sideways, the wise pastor noted that he looked somewhat lost, almost as if he was adrift. "Do us part..." The officiant prompted encouragingly, waiting for Edwin to repeat them so he could move on to the girl.

But Edwin didn't repeat them. He was staring into space. Casey tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned abruptly to face her. She motioned to the pastor, anxiously waiting for Edwin to finish his vows. Yet Edwin's lips remained silent; in fact, he even closed his mouth and said nothing. Casey squeezed his hand nervously, growing increasingly perturbed by his silence. Finally, Edwin sighed, resigned, as if he'd truly accepted what he was about to do.

And then he said no. "I can't do this," he whispered. The reverend's eyebrows shot up in the air. Casey swore she'd misheard him. He didn't say that. I must've heard him wrong. Only "do us part" sounded nothing like "I can't do this". So, entrenched in denial and confusion, Casey straightened patiently and waited for the acceptable answer.

Too bad it never came.

Seeing that she didn't get the message, that he was totally misunderstood, Edwin spoke up. He didn't dare look at Casey, just the minister. The expression conveyed an apology, but, the reverend thought, he's apologizing to the wrong person. The clergyman sighed, giving the man a pitying look. "I can't do this!" Edwin exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear him clearly. Casey jumped a little, stiffening in disbelief. Oh my God. There were loud, awfully audible gasps throughout the church. No one could believe it, least of all their family. They had seemed like the perfect couple, so deeply in love, so perfectly suited for one another, so why now? Why? Even Derek seemed taken aback by this sudden change in his brother, and Lizzie, who had wished ill of the marriage from the start, couldn't believe her ears. That did not just happen.

They all thought it was just cold feet, except for the pastor, who knew the awful truth, having read it in the would-be groom's eyes. Casey too sensed it was more than that, fearing the worst. And then Edwin dropped her hand suddenly, releasing it as if he'd been chained or burned. It was a symbolic gesture of the severance to come, and then everyone suddenly realized that Edwin meant it. There would be no wedding at all. Casey gasped softly as her hand fell against her side. He drew away from her, and she clutched her hand to her chest as if it pained her. In reality, however, the pain came from within... buried in the deepest depths of her secret heart, where she stored away all this feeling. The rest of her was anchored around that spot, so when it broke, she fell internally into pieces with it. On the surface, she looked fine, completely put together, just shell-shocked... completely numb.

Licking his lips nervously, Edwin forced himself to look Casey in the eye. She deserves to know, he thought worriedly, hating himself for doing this to her. I never wanted it to come to this. He cursed himself for dragging things out, letting it go on too far and too long. But it had to be done, he assured himself. I couldn't go on living a lie. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. She needs an explanation, he'd decided, even though he knew she wouldn't like it or want to hear it. He couldn't give her himself, but he could give her that much... a reason. I really do love her... just not enough. He shook his head sadly. She wouldn't understand. "Casey, I can't marry you," he said plainly, softly enough that only she could hear, and it hurt. Her eyes welled with thick, fat, rolling tears, the bad kind, and she attempted fiercely to hold them back.

Her heart was breaking, and she'd lost everything in one second. Her wedding day was turning out to be a nightmare. And then, just when she thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Edwin told her why. Not marrying her because he didn't love her enough or because he was too young to settle down and make a commitment... that was one thing. Casey could've dealt with that. "I'm in love with someone else," he replied urgently. He said it loud enough so that everyone in the silent church heard it. Casey's humiliation was complete, so the tears slowly started to stream down her shocked face. Even Derek never did anything that bad, Casey couldn't help but think, feeling the betrayal hit her like a slap in the face. It was funny how her mind came back to Derek at random moments; though they'd been living apart for a little over nine years, it was still a bit of a habit.

Casey was speechless, but she wouldn't... couldn't... have said anything, even if she wanted to. Her fiancé was ditching her at the altar, and she couldn't even get in the last word. She gaped at Edwin. You could never really know a person. Casey was so stricken that she, along with everyone else, who was watching the scene unfolding in front of them with a vague sense of horror and simultaneous fascination, didn't notice Lizzie run out the closest door in tears. Only Derek noticed, but he wasn't going to do a thing about it. He was too busy glaring daggers at his brother. He shook his head disapprovingly. Even I'm not that cold, Ed. Couldn't you have done this before she bought the damn dress? You were engaged for over a year, man. It's not like you couldn't have gotten out of it earlier. The tears ran silently down Casey's cheeks, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. No one could really see under the veil anyway.

The rest of Casey's friends and family were horrified for her, none more than George, Nora, and Dennis. Dennis had known something was horribly wrong, but he'd never expected this- the groom in love with someone else! George and Nora were even more ashamed, since they had raised Edwin, and they hadn't thought they'd raised him to be so thoughtless. Nora started weeping quietly, wishing her husband was by her side instead of sitting next to Abby on the groom's side. It's all my fault. If I'd never married George, they would never have met... and none of this would've happened. I'm sorry, Casey. Liam was confused as to what had just passed; Casey and Edwin had been away and together for the majority of his life. He didn't know them as separate entities; he barely knew them at all. His mother was crying, though, so he attempted to comfort her.

His attempts fell on deaf ears, as Nora only seemed to cry harder. Liam frowned, punching Dennis in the arm, shooting him a pleading look. Dennis registered the boy's cry for help, nodding slowly, and so he placed a hand on his Nora's shoulder. Liam scrambled out from between them, wanting to get away from his hysterical mother. Like his eldest half-brother, Liam was no good around crying women, even if that woman was his mother. "It's not your fault, Nora," Dennis muttered soothingly. Dennis moved closer to his ex-wife, wrapping an arm around her shoulder while George looked on in jealousy.

Liam sat next to Isabel, who was staring at the couple in front in confusion. "I never saw this part in the movies. Liam, is this normal?" Isabel wondered aloud. Liam looked at her in disbelief, rolling his eyes. Girls.

"No. It's not, Iz," he said curtly. He glanced at her a moment later; she looked slightly hurt. Then he felt guilty. He hadn't meant to sound so mean. He sighed patiently, slumping in his seat. Why had he bothered getting dressed up if there was no wedding? Stupid Edwin had to go ruin everything. "They're not getting married anymore, Izzy," he replied in a gentler tone. Isabel frowned, confused. She didn't understand. "He's in love with someone else," Liam explained, growing more irritated with his brother by the moment. Isabel's whole posture drooped; sadness was written all over her face. Just when she'd gotten used to him, too. Poor Casey.

Dennis was whispering things in Nora's ear, smoothing her hair. She was crying on his shoulder, but he didn't mind. He had a million suits like this at home. He hadn't been this close to her in years. Not since the day before I moved out, when we made up, and that was years and years ago... unfortunately. Why had he remembered that day now, of all times? He glanced at Nora interestedly before shaking his head. No... I can't, he thought sternly. Nora's crying had lessened some, but the guilt hadn't gone away.

Casey was still frozen in place, staring at Edwin with betrayal written across her face. There would be no exchange of vows, no wedding band on their left ring fingers, no second reading, no toast, no reception... no cutting the sweet, sugary cake and cramming it into each others' mouths. There would be no lifting of the veil, no pronunciation as man and wife, no happy ending for Casey McDonald, just McDonald, not McDonald-Venturi. There would be no children, no white picket fence, no golden retriever in the yard. No nothing. Then Casey surprised herself; she was suddenly talking of her own accord. "Who?" she found herself asking, despite the fact that it hurt more than anything she could've ever imagined. His answer would hurt her even more.

Edwin gave Casey a pained look. "I never meant for this to happen, Casey. I really do love you," Edwin whispered passionately. He gazed at Casey for a moment in a way that let her think, if only for a moment, that he still wanted her. Then he broke the stare and looked down, ashamed as he ought to be. "It just... happened. And then I was in over my head, and I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't feel the same. I didn't want to live a lie anymore, Casey. You deserve better than that. I'm sorry it had to come to this, but I didn't want to hurt you... so I kept putting it off, and here we are. Better now than never," Edwin explained soothingly, reaching out to hold Casey's hand. Casey didn't let herself get her hopes up this time.

She nodded like it was okay, even though it really wasn't. She could understand why Edwin had lied, but at least he was telling her now. It would be much worse to marry a man who doesn't truly love me, right? She could even understand why Edwin needed to leave her. She didn't blame him. She couldn't blame him for that, for wanting what was best for her, for him, for the both of them. She could, however, blame him for not growing a pair and telling her before the wedding. She could also blame him for proposing in the first place, for dragging it and her on so long, and she could definitely blame him for ruining what was supposed to be her first and only wedding day. "You love her more than me," she said, hating how absolutely pathetic she sounded.

Casey was clinging to the broken pieces of her life there in the church, desperately trying to hold it all together. She wanted nothing more than to get out of that awful building, to get far, far, far away from this place and this heartbreak. Edwin shook his head softly, a slightly pained look reappearing on his face. "It's not that, Casey. I just don't love you enough,"he contradicted, giving her a sad smile. He looked as if he would've given her a kiss goodbye if everyone hadn't been present. Everyone was, though, so Edwin just left. He didn't do anything, and Casey was left without even a single embrace, let alone a goodbye, from the man she had almost married. Edwin didn't even look back once; he ran down the aisle and out the door with all eyes on him.

Casey's shoulders shook ever so slightly as she began to sob. She glanced around the room through blurry eyes, wanting to see how the others were taking this. She saw her mother, half gone and hysterical, in her father's arms. Her father noticed her stare and gave her a sympathetic smile. Casey tried her best to smile back, but her attempt failed miserably. Why am I always failing at something? I can't even get married without everything going wrong! George was just sitting there, looking completely irate and horrified, but Abby, clutching George's arm possessively, seemed so nonplussed. She looked a little smug, and Casey let herself indulge the feelings of hatred she'd always felt towards the wretched woman but never expressed. She never thought I was the right girl for Edwin, and it looks like she was right, Casey thought miserably. She had never felt so small and so alone in her life.

Casey didn't even bother to wipe at her eyes. She turned to survey her bridesmaids; Emily looked ashamed for Casey, whereas Marti's shock and mortification was written all over her face, and Lizzie, well, Lizzie wasn't even there... Casey didn't have time to wonder why. She turned to glance at the groomsmen. Teddy leered at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, making her almost shudder in revulsion. It was a relief to feel something other than the soul-crushing depression for a moment. Jason was the good groomsman; he gazed at her with empathy and pity, and he came towards her slowly, approaching her before even her family. I always liked him.

Just as Jason wrapped an arm around Casey, her eyes flitted towards Derek. He was stoic as usual, but stiff in a different way. Derek was absolutely furious. Casey could feel the rage radiating off him in waves, and it didn't make sense to her. Why is he so mad? He's always hated me. He never liked Edwin that much either. Why isn't he happy that I got humiliated? He lives for this sort of thing! There was something else in his eyes, something she couldn't quite decipher. Suddenly Casey knew what it was: guilt. He felt guilty. Had he known?

Casey wanted to tell them to all leave, but she couldn't do that. She couldn't say a word. The words got caught up in her throat and her quiet sobs. Everyone was still so still, unmoving, in total disbelief. Even the pastor was completely speechless. That's never happened before, he thought. Does no one in this family do anything in half measures? No one had expected that out of Edwin... pragmatic, sweet, smart, reliable Edwin. No one, it seemed, knew what to do. No one was going to take charge. And then Derek made a decision. He walked down from his place on the stairs, pushing the reverend aside none too politely, and grabbing the microphone.

He always knew what to do in a crisis. "Well, folks... unfortunately, it doesn't look like there's going to be a wedding today because my brother's an asshole. Now, unless any of you wants to proclaim your undying love for Casey and see if you can snag her on the rebound, I suggest that everyone who isn't family or in the wedding party should stop gaping at her and clear the hell out. Thank you for your attendance. Goodbye," Derek announced loudly and bluntly. He shooed people out, but he got the job done. Most of the people left within minutes, gossiping over it. While his words had been a little hurtful, he'd gotten rid of all the people, and for that, at least, she was grateful beyond words.

Derek had a way of putting everything in perspective and making it truly sink in that the wedding was really off. Casey gazed around to see who had stuck around: her grandparents, Grandma Venturi, Abby's mother, Abby, her stepfather, her mother, her father, her two half-siblings, her aunt Fiona, Fiona's current husband, her cousin Vicky, Marti, Marti's date, Emily, Jason, Sam, Max (and Amy), Trevor, Sally, Kendra, Noel, and, of course, Derek. All of her family except Lizzie and Edwin. Edwin's friends had all left, as had the majority of her other friends, the ones that hadn't known her before Edwin. Only the friends from high school remained, but she didn't want any of them there. I have never been so humiliated in my life, and all my ex-boyfriends and Kendra are around to witness it. Just great.

She was surrounded by this group of people she didn't want to see, minus the grandparents who were too weak to stand and knew when it was best to leave it alone, Abby, and Marti's date, who was in the back, smoking. Casey pushed them away, but there were so many of them. Abby made a snide comment, and Casey watched in awe as her mother shook off her father's arm, eyes still red-rimmed from tears, and stormed over to the woman who would've been her mother-in-law. Nora had always disliked the woman, hating that she had Abby's shadow hanging over her all the time, but her hatred had increased upon actually meeting the woman. She'd tolerated it for as long as she could for the children's sake, but now that Abby was kicking Casey when she was already down, her tolerance was no more.

"Who are you to say something like that about my daughter? She was the one left at the altar. You should not be relishing in her misery, especially when your son was the one who abandoned her! And you should be ashamed that you raised a son who would do something so deplorable!" Nora shouted fiercely, waving her finger in the woman's face. Casey was so proud of her mother for defending her and finally standing up to that awful woman. Abby rolled her eyes at Nora, completely unaffected. She merely crossed her arms over her chest, looking impossibly young and glamorous.

"You spent more time with him than I ever did, Nora. So if anyone's to blame for raising him, it's you. Besides, Edward did the right thing. Casey wasn't right for him," Abby retorted coolly, airily even. Nora was beyond irritated. She seethed as her face turned a brighter shade of red. Casey felt the sting of the comment. It was too soon, and everyone knew it. Still, Casey couldn't help but agree with her. Abby spoke the truth, after all. The way she'd said it, though, made it sound like Casey wasn't good enough for her son, the son she never saw. It took all Nora had to avoid making things worse by doing something stupid like attempting to strangle Abby. Casey gaped at Abby, in utter disbelief that she was such a bad mother that she couldn't even remember her son's name.

Edwin had always been the under-looked one in the Venturi family. He had always come last, and Casey knew how much that hurt him. So it was adding insult to injury that his own mother had forgotten his proper name. Casey still loved him, after all, and she felt the need to speak up for him, no matter how bad he'd hurt her. Suddenly she wasn't crying anymore. So she pushed past all the people trying to comfort her at once, none of whom were family, and stalked over to Abby and her mother. "His name is EDWIN!" Casey screamed at the top of her lungs. She was due for a meltdown. Abby glanced over at her in sudden surprise. She said nothing at first, just blinked, but then she laughed at Casey, like what she'd said was the most hilarious thing she'd ever heard. Casey saw red.

Before she knew it, she was rushing at Abby, and then someone's arms were around her waist, holding her back. Casey turned her head to see who her captor was; it was Derek, her new favorite step-brother. He looked livid. Derek and Abby had never gotten along well. For some bizarre reason, he had an instinctive dislike of her unlike even his hatred of her. He deliberately avoided seeing her if he could, and he'd never even take her calls. Yet having him mad at his mother because of something she'd said about her, well, that was a new one. "Mom, I think it would be best if you left. You're only making things worse," Derek growled, giving his mother the meanest look Casey had ever seen. At first Abby didn't move, but Derek continued to glare at her. Finally he let go of Casey and forcibly grabbed his mother and dragged her out of the church.

For the first time since Edwin had left her there, standing all alone, Casey smiled and meant it.


Eventually, a couple hours later, almost everyone had gone. Casey insisted that they go to the wedding reception, even the pastor. She'd paid for it, so they might as well enjoy it. As for her, well, she wasn't feeling very hungry. They had all been kind to her, but they hadn't made it better. She hadn't seen a lot of them since high school.

Emily lived just outside of Toronto, so she visited often. Emily was still the same person she'd been in high school, bubbly, fun, slightly scatter-brained, and a little awkward. She was enjoying a successful career as an up-and-coming interior designer. Since she had been dating Trevor for five years, they were sort of a packaged deal. They were currently engaged. Trevor, like Casey, was now a lawyer; unlike Casey, he was a human rights lawyer, which meant that he traveled quite a bit. Sam had gone to school with Derek; he was almost a part of the family, actually. They were really just friends now; sometimes she almost forgot she'd ever dated him. He was going to be a psychiatrist.

Max was a famous football player now, but it was painful to see him, especially with Amy, who loathed her. They had gotten back together immediately after Max had broken up with her. The duo was practically attached at the hip. They'd gotten married several years ago and were a very glamorous and famous couple... sort of celebrities. Kendra, however, just annoyed her. They'd both gone to the University of Toronto, and she'd wound up sharing a room with the blonde, who continuously brought boyfriends in (often kicking her out so she could spend the night with them) and chattered on and on about how Derek was better than all of them. Kendra had also once again tried to fix her up. Naturally, it hadn't ended well. In fact, the only reason she was even there was because Kendra invited herself.

Sally, whom Casey had always respected (if only for her utter denial of Derek), was, oddly enough, his date. She didn't know how he'd managed it, but she supposed they were friends now. And, as for Noel... Noel Carrington was one person Casey had seen quite a bit at school. Noel had gone to the University of Toronto with her, and they'd gotten very close. At one point, she'd even thought that Noel might ask her out and that their close friendship might become something more, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Edwin had come along, and he'd shot all thoughts of Noel out of her mind. All the same, Noel even seemed to follow Casey to graduate school at McGill. He was studying to be a doctor while she was studying to be a lawyer.

For four years he had been her best friend outside of Edwin. She was so used to being around family, but then suddenly she was all alone. Even Edwin wasn't with her. Edwin was in Kingston at Queen's University, so far, far away from Montreal. So many times she and Noel had come close to doing... something both might regret, but she'd reminded him of Edwin, and he was silenced. She remembered how she'd agonized over it, over having an emotional affair, but Noel had been there, while Edwin hadn't. She reminded herself that she never kissed Noel at least, but sometimes she still woke up at nights breathless wondering what it would be like. Now she found herself wishing that she had cheated on Edwin like he'd inevitably done to her. It wasn't fair, and it was what he would've deserved.

Noel had trouble leaving her to go to the reception. He'd protested vehemently that he wouldn't enjoy it without her there, that it wouldn't be the same, that he really ought to be there with her. And maybe, Casey thought quietly to herself, he should. She told him she needed a little time alone, but that she'd be there, and that they mustn't cut the cake without her. She'd had to push Noel out the door, but he left eventually, and Casey finally got the solitude she'd been longing for... or so she thought.

She was sitting on the steps right in front of the pulpit, staring dimly at the spot where she was supposed to be married. It was within half a meter; she could almost touch it. Suddenly, she heard footsteps on the carpet, and someone emerged from stage right to sit down next to her. Casey bristled and glanced out of the corner of her eye. It was Derek, still clad in his tuxedo. His tie was loosened, and his hair was a little messier, but other than that, he looked the same. She'd barely seen him at all over the past nine years, save at holidays, but he always looked different. Every time she laid eyes on him, she was struck by how much he'd grown. He'd grown a few inches, a late-teens growth spurt, and he had definitely filled out with the long months of hockey training. He was statuesque, even, and if it was possible, he'd gotten even more attractive. Not just that, but Derek had matured, as much as someone like him could. He was educated now, civilized, someone a woman could be proud of. A few things about him, however, remained the same: the messy hair, the same cocksure attitude, the same brutally, viciously sharp tongue, and, of course, his infamous smirk.

He still played pranks and chased after girls and tried to get out of work. His room was probably still a mess, probably even more now that he was a hockey pro. He still acted like a child and did crazy things, but now he studied and learned things. She barely knew him, only she knew him like the back of her hand. At first, she didn't acknowledge him, but Casey eventually gave that up. It was impossible to ignore Derek Michael Venturi. She cleared her throat awkwardly, staring at her lap. "How long did you know?" she asked slightly irritably. Derek had known something was up; that much had been clear from the guilty as sin look on his face. He had known and hadn't told her, his own stepsister, and she felt horribly betrayed, even if Edwin was his real brother and blood relations trumped marriage relations.

Derek sighed and leaned back on his hands. Still, he couldn't say he was surprised by her directness. He'd want to know if it had been him in her position. While shifting his weight, his arm brushed against hers. Casey tensed, but Derek, oblivious to her discomfort, didn't move away. "I don't know," he replied, pursing his lips. He exhaled deeply, looking down at his feet. "A long time... too long," he muttered tiredly. He could feel the question in Casey's stare burning into him, so he chose to answer her. She wanted to know how he'd found out, how he, who lived on the other side of the country, knew before she did. "Edwin was never the best liar, Casey. The kid wears his heart on his sleeve. I saw straight through him," Derek explained plainly. He glanced up at her briefly, but then he looked down out of shame.

Casey was silent with her rage. Derek was no brother to her, nor was Edwin. Edwin wasn't anything to her anymore. Derek owed her nothing, but she still felt as if he should've told her so she didn't feel so completely foolish for believing in Edwin, trusting him when he really loved another. She crossed her arms on her lap and leaned forward. She'd never lifted the veil, and for a moment, she was glad of the protection it offered. One could scarcely see her emotions through the fabric, just a blurred, obscured image of her face that was liable to be wrong. "Why didn't you tell me?" Casey remarked calmly and quietly, trying to keep the hidden fury out of her voice.

Derek shrugged, hating that Casey was the only person who ever made him feel ashamed, excluding Lizzie, of course. Whenever he was ashamed, it was always for something he'd done to Casey. Yet this time, he hadn't done anything... and that was the problem. "It wasn't my place," he mumbled, knowing full well what a lousy excuse it was. He could sense the unhappiness radiating off of Casey, and he knew that wasn't enough. She didn't seem angry with him, but she was all the same, and bottling it up wasn't going to help. Derek licked his lips. "I tried... I tried to get him to tell you so many times. I told him it was wrong to do that to you, but Edwin could never get around to doing it. He didn't want to hurt you, Case, and the guy really did love you in his own way," Derek murmured soothingly. He found himself wishing that he'd done more to help her, to lessen the pain for her just a little. He felt partially responsible for his brother's crimes.

She nodded, feeling a little guilty herself. I guess this time it isn't Derek's fault. I knew he never liked me with Edwin, but even he wouldn't sink that low. For some reason, it was a relief to know that, but it was also a terribly sad little revelation. Edwin is worse than Derek, Casey realized suddenly. Derek would never, ever do something like that to a girl, regardless of how much he cared about her and didn't want to hurt her. Even if Edwin strung me along out of love, it doesn't mean that he didn't fail. In fact, he hurt me worse by prolonging it. Of all the rotten things she could say of Derek, he would never lead a girl on for so long. He had no problem just dropping women like flies if he found one he liked better. Derek Venturi was many things, but he had never been a cheater.

Suddenly, it hit her. She still didn't know the name of the girl Edwin had picked over her, but did it really matter? She turned to finally look at Derek, to ask him. Casey needed to say the words looking at him. The question was on the tip of her tongue, and the answer was in her eyes. Since when had Derek been able to read her so well? She said nothing for a few moments, and Derek said nothing in return. He seemed hesitant, so he obviously knew and didn't want to tell her. It was worse than she'd thought, then. Nonetheless, Casey couldn't stop herself from begging the question. "Who is she, Derek?" she demanded fiercely. In reality, it didn't matter. She only asked for the name so she could match it to the faceless girl who had snatched her beloved away.

At first, it seemed as if Derek hadn't heard her, but he gulped almost nervously and looked down. It was clear that he really didn't want to tell her. If even Derek was afraid to tell her the truth, then the truth must be something else, Casey thought suspiciously. Casey straightened her skirt, deliberately leaning a little heavier against Derek so that she might hear the name. Anything to get a response. They spent an eternity engaging in this tenuous, awkward silence. Derek wasn't one to keep his mouth shut. Finally, the dam broke, and Derek let the name spill off his lips like an intentional accident. "Lizzie," he breathed, glancing at her for just one second before shutting his eyes quickly so he wouldn't have to see the look on her face.

Casey was so used to Derek's lies that she didn't believe him at first. She gave him an incredulous look. Lizzie, like my sister, Lizzie? There must be some mistake. She shook her head in disbelief. Lizzie would never... It must be some other Elizabeth. Eventually Derek opened his eyes, and Casey realized she'd have to ask him or wonder about it for the rest of her life. She licked her paper-dry lips nervously, clutching the dress with fisted hands. "Lizzie? As in my sister and your stepsister, Elizabeth Jane McDonald?" Casey inquired, a hard edge appearing in her tone.

Derek nodded very slowly. As much as he didn't want it to be true, it was. It had been so obvious it was a wonder Casey didn't see it. He was surprised he'd known something before her, but he'd always been less naïve and more perceptive than Casey. Casey collapsed against Derek's shoulder, not in tears, but in a dead faint. When her head hit his shoulder, Derek just froze. He hadn't expected that at all. He knew one thing: that he had to wake her up and fast. "Case, please,"Derek pleaded, lightly shaking her. She was unresponsive but breathing. He tried to pick her up, but she was limp and leaden in his hands. Derek sighed and gently pulled up her veil, brushing the netting back, out of her eyes. "Case? I'm sorry," he said softly, wondering why he was apologizing for his brother's mistake. It was a mistake, too, Derek couldn't help but think. He saw what his brother saw in Lizzie, but in the end, Derek preferred Casey. Maybe I shouldn't have dropped it on her like that.

Her eyes fluttered open, and Derek stared straight into her sky-blue irises. Her eyes were wide and confused, yet heavy-lidded. She blinked sleepily a few times and then surprised him by sitting up. What is she doing? She wrapped her thin arms around his neck heavily, so that he was half bent over, supporting her weight. Casey licked her pouty red lips and pulled him closer and closer and closer, until they were so close that their lips almost brushed. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned in the remaining distance to capture his lips with hers. Derek suddenly woke up, realizing what Casey was about to do. She's going to kiss me. The veil's pulled back. She thinks I'm Edwin and her husband. The prospect was slightly (okay, a lot) terrifying to him. Fortunately, as a hockey player, he had faster reflexes than Casey, so he jerked back almost as if he'd been burned. Thanks to Derek's quick thinking, their lips never touched, but that didn't mean his lips didn't burn, or that he didn't wonder... endlessly.

Reality hit Casey hard; she suddenly knew exactly where she was and what had almost happened. Even in my dreams, Edwin rejects me. Probably because he'd rather be with my little sister. I hope he dumps her for Isabel after six years, although that would be kind of sick since Isabel would be twelve then, and that would make Edwin a pedophile. Casey glanced around the room, almost jumping when she saw Derek's proximity. Then it hit her like a bolt of lightning: she'd almost kissed Derek in real life, not Edwin in her dreams. She'd just been so desperate to have the dream come true, so desperate that she was barely even embarrassed by this revelation. The two brothers surely looked alike, but not that alike, not similar enough to be mistaken for one another. Especially since Derek's better-looking, Casey interjected before she could stop herself. Mortified at both her thoughts and deeds, Casey felt herself flush. But Edwin's smarter, she retorted mentally, trying to diminish the fact that she'd just complimented Derek. You so sure about that, her traitorous head quipped back. Derek goes to the best film school in the country.

There was an awkward silence after that because Casey couldn't say a word. I almost kissed Derek. I almost kissed Derek. I ALMOST KISSED DEREK! She was so ashamed at what she'd almost done that she refused to even look at Derek. The words ran through her head like a broken record, repeating themselves again and again, faster and faster, until they started to blur together into one awful word. IalmostkisseDerek! After gathering her strength for a few moments, she sat up and stared at him. She cleared her throat awkwardly, and Derek tensed, thinking she was going to bring up the near-kiss. "So, Edwin and Liz, huh? How long?" Casey questioned effortlessly. She was very good at appearing absolutely unaffected.

Derek relaxed some and thought about it. He didn't know what to say, really. His brother and Lizzie had never really been a couple, but there was definitely something between them. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Since the day you McDonalds moved in, when they were kids. Twelve years it's been building up, Casey," he said fatalistically. "It's always been them, Casey," he continued, wondering how she hadn't seen it from the start. Casey's jaw dropped a little, and for a moment she let herself indulge the white-hot ember of hatred she felt for Derek. Deep down, though, she knew he was right. She just hated that he made her feel like she was the sister that had stolen the other sister's love. She wasn't. She silently cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. They always were close, even in the beginning when we all hated each other.

Worse still, their closeness had not diminished with age. If anything, it had increased, and she'd encouraged it. She remembered thinking it was cute that her sister and boyfriend, her two best friends, were best friends. How could I have been so monumentally stupid? Lizzie had gone to a different college than Edwin and Casey, but, come to think of it, he had gone to Queen's to get his MBA. Maybe their top-rated business school wasn't the only reason for his choice. She remembered pleading with him to follow her to Montreal, but Edwin had been insistent that they could survive a long distance relationship. In fact, he'd sworn that it wasn't that far. Distance was nothing, he'd claimed, for a willing heart would traverse thousands of miles, let alone two hundred and seventy-eight kilometers. I should've known he was full of crap from the start.

"What do you know about their relationship? I want every gritty, tawdry little detail," Casey requested bossily, eyes blazing. It was more of an imperial mandate than a request, though. Derek's eyes widened a bit, surprised she would want to know about them. In all truth, Derek didn't know much, only what he'd seen. He would've shrugged, but he knew that would only serve to make her irritated with him again. He didn't want to mess with Casey when his mother had already insulted her and his brother had left her at the altar. So Derek sighed instead and slowly began to explain it to her.

He still didn't know how Casey had hooked up with his brother, but he knew a thing or two about Lizzie and Edwin. He'd seen the looks at home when they thought no one was watching, the way Lizzie had blushed sometimes when Edwin looked at her, the way his brother always found an excuse to touch her so casually. How they talked all the time, and did they really think he didn't notice them sneaking off to the tiny Games' Closet? He'd sensed it building for years, and he had been just waiting for it to explode when he came home for Christmas one year and suddenly Edwin and Casey were a couple, and he was just expected to accept it. Why hadn't anyone consulted him about it? He could've, would've, and did tell them what a bad idea it was. The first thing he did was confront his brother and tell him he was dating the wrong McDonald; he'd seen the crushed look on Lizzie's face, the one she hadn't quite managed to squash, and known they would all wind up hurt from this. For once, Edwin hadn't backed down.

Derek, of course, told Casey none of that. It would make him sound less cool and in control. "I don't know... It started when we were out of the house. They were flirting pretty heavily, really close friends, so something was bound to happen. But I guess that tension never really got resolved, and those feelings never really went away. Then they left the house, and she went away to Kingston while Edwin was in Toronto with you," Derek described, trying to sort out the hazy details. He didn't know much of that part. He and his younger brother were not particularly close, and, of all the things they did discuss, his relationship with Casey ranked especially low on the list. It was an awkward, almost taboo topic between them, rarely mentioned even in passing. Derek didn't like to speak of it; he merely accepted tacitly it like the rest of the family had, because he'd had no other choice. Casey could, however, fill in the next part herself.

Edwin and Casey had grown close fast during college due to isolation from friends, family, and a great deal of common interests she'd never realized they possessed. She'd never realized how sweet he was. She'd lived with him for, what, ten years, and she'd never realized how incredibly intelligent he was, how mature... and how he was actually very cute. They wound up dating shortly afterward, right after Edwin turned nineteen. He was older then, and she was finally out of denial; it was okay for her to like him. At first she'd been so hesitant, but Edwin had convinced her to give it a try. It had escalated after that, but she was glad it had.

Derek made a face and cut into her memories. He could read the look on Casey's face, and he knew she was thinking about Edwin. He did not want her to waste any more thoughts on Edwin. He continued on determinedly. "They obviously kept in touch almost religiously through email and the occasional visit." Either Edwin and Casey would go to Kingston or Liz would catch a train to Toronto. She had been the first to find out about Casey and Edwin, partially because she and Edwin kept no secrets, and partially because Casey couldn't keep her mouth shut. Derek, however, knew something Casey didn't. Liz had seen something building between Edwin and her sister long before they had. She had predicted it and tried to stop it, but it happened nonetheless. Worse still, Liz knew it was happening. She pretended for weeks before Edwin "officially" told her that she didn't know, but she was fully aware of the whole thing. Casey nodded impatiently; so far he was only stating the obvious. How can that amount to love?

She knew that Derek and Lizzie had kept in touch fairly regularly. Perhaps she had looked to him as a confidante when she found she could no longer turn to her sister about her feelings, especially if Edwin's feelings were reciprocated. They obviously must be, Casey thought gloomily. Edwin's the perfect stepbrother, the perfect boyfriend, even the perfect husband if he'd... Why wouldn't she be head over heels in love with him like me? In addition, her sister had disappeared, and her absence said more than any mere words could. She's probably off with him now... not that I blame her. So would I be... if I could... if it weren't utterly impossible. Casey stared past her shoes and down the stairs at the rich burgundy of the carpeting. She sighed wearily, sadly, expelling the heavy breath weakly, far more weakly than she'd expected. She was having trouble breathing. "When?" she asked in a raspy voice, and the question hung in the air like a pendulum.

He didn't understand her. What did she mean? "When what?", he was tempted to retort. It was such a vague question, and he didn't even know anyways. He only knew that it had started long before Casey had ever looked at Edwin with anything but annoyance. It had always been there, the tension quietly simmering beneath the surface. Derek remained silent, contemplating his reply. What was he to say to that? Then again, he knew what she meant. She wanted to know when it had turned, when their siblings' relationship had changed inexplicably overnight. She wanted to pinpoint that exact moment where it had all gone terribly wrong, where friendship had transmuted to love.

Unlike him, she had not sensed the change in dynamic between her two closest friends. He had smelt it out immediately, like a bloodhound. Once it had altered, Derek could notice little else but the way his brother shot Lizzie a secretive smile, a mirror of his own grin, or the way she found an excuse to touch him in a seemingly innocent way. Suddenly the pain and longing stood out sharply on his stepsister's soft face, aging her, and his brother's eyes were always dark and hungry. He saw the burning way his brother stared after Liz, how she tried pitifully to maintain indifference, and how she failed every time around. The guilt was written on her face; her eyes darted around anxiously; she licked her lips, and she sighed heavily as if she was trying to breathe out whatever sin she was keeping inside of her. Most of all, he recognized the loss of innocence in her eyes. He noted the way she was unable and perhaps ashamed to look him in the eye, maybe even knowing he knew all about her dirty little secret, her brisk shuffling gait, silent as a ninja, and most of all, he couldn't help but see how she avoided her sister.

He knew when it had all gone terribly wrong: the moment when Casey and Edwin first became something more than just step-siblings. It wasn't meant to be, he insisted mentally with more vehemence than was necessary. It was uncharacteristically fatalistic of him to even think such a thing; Derek, though he was an eternal gambler, did not believe in fate. Step-siblings aren't supposed to... Funny how he couldn't finish that sentence. Then again, maybe he didn't want to. Derek shook these thoughts away. He was getting confused needlessly; he needed to find his point and fast. He knew what Casey wanted, and, unlike his brother, he was going to give it to her.

Clearing his throat, trying to piece together all the details he could, Derek began to tell the story. He didn't know much, just what he'd witnessed, and none of that could be classified as truly revealing. What he took for intimacy Casey mistook for friendship. She hadn't batted an eye at any of it, and it was hard to explain without really knowing, when all he had were these bits of memory patched together and not a full declaration. It was speculation, matching up obscure facts with details, cryptic things Lizzie had told him last night at the reception dinner. He wondered if she'd believe him, but, then again, she had no one else to turn to, so his word was as good as law.

"It was after that first Christmas, so Liz definitely knew. She'd known for a while, even before you told her," he explained slowly, so that Casey had no doubt that her sister hadn't known. There was no chance that she hadn't done it intentionally, fully aware of what she was doing. Casey knew the Christmas he was speaking of; it had been shortly after their first anniversary. They'd announced it then to show that they were serious, and, despite the shock that had never quite disappeared, the blended family managed to swallow it and accept it far easier than she had ever expected. Nora and George had reasoned that both were adults and not related by blood, so if Casey and Edwin wanted to do something, Nora and George couldn't stop them from doing it.

Casey nodded, motioning for him to go on. The traces of a smile lingered on Derek's lips. He had her hanging on his every word. "Her eighteenth birthday was, what, a month or two after that?" Derek pointed out suggestively, trailing off, hoping Casey would catch the hint. Frowning, Casey wracked her brain to think of anything that had happened to her sister around that time, other than the birthday itself, but she couldn't remember. Casey hadn't even visited her sister then, though she'd offered to do so. Lizzie insisted that it was fine not to come. She was very busy that week, and she knew Casey was equally, if not more occupied. Liz said she just wanted a quiet night at home, and she'd probably hang out with her friends or have a coffee. Casey had to respect this, because, if she wasn't such a high maintenance person, she might've easily done the same.

Judging by the blank stare, Derek realized that Casey didn't get it. Whatever the reason, her feelings for Edwin were still hindering her judgment. He sighed in frustration and decided to make it all very clear for her. "Edwin came to spend that whole week before with her, Casey. Just the two of them, all nice and cozy in her dorm room," he stated so bluntly that the implication revelation fell on Casey like a megaton bomb. Casey knew as well as Derek that her sister's roommate was studying abroad for the year, so her sister had the room all to herself. There was, then, no doubt as to what... or, rather, who... Edwin, piped the traitorous voice in her head... Liz had been doing.

Suddenly, it all added up. She remembered that week, how anxious she'd been. It was the first time she'd been away from Edwin, her only family here (aside from her slutty cousin, Vicky), since they'd arrived together. He'd told her he was going to do research in the wilds of Alberta, but he was Derek's brother, and she should've known never to believe a word he said. It wasn't that unreasonable to believe him. Edwin had double-majored in business and biology. He was always working on some new experiment, and, while humans were generally his favorite subject, Edwin also did a lot of experiments with other animals in their various ecosystems. He'd gone up to Nunavut for part of his senior year for work on his thesis (that was no lie; she'd seen his parka and the frostbite).

In all the hustle and bustle, Casey had very nearly forgotten her sister's birthday. She was so scared about Edwin and terrified about finally being all on her own. To her credit, she'd at least remembered to call. She'd expected Edwin back that night, but she'd gotten an upset Lizzie instead. Casey briefly paused to wonder whether Derek knew about this. He seemed to know everything already. "Oh... Well, I guess that would explain why Lizzie drove all the way to my apartment in the middle of the night on her birthday, or the day after her birthday, I guess," Casey mumbled thoughtfully, playing with the hem of her dress. She'd spent the whole night comforting Lizzie and had missed classes the next morning.

It felt good to finally know the guy who'd broken her sister, but it was painful all the same, as he was her now ex-fiancé. Way to keep it in the family, Ed. Casey glanced up, looking around the empty church with wide, lost eyes. Her gaze flitted to Derek for a brief moment; he was leaning forward like he wanted her to go on, like he was interested in what she had to say. Casey simply stared at him for a moment. This is all so surreal. I just almost married my younger stepbrother, who left me for my little sister, and now I'm having something that may quite possibly be the first decent conversation I've ever had with Derek. When has Derek ever wanted to hear anything I had to say? "You didn't know?" she questioned with an air of disbelief. Derek shrugged vaguely.

Casey pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. "When Lizzie came to me... She was completely heartbroken. She'd been crying two hundred and thirty-one kilometers to Toronto, so she was a complete wreck. Her cheeks were red and swollen; there were not quite dry tear tracks running down her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot and watery; obviously she hadn't slept all night. It's a wonder she even got to my apartment without crashing," Casey elucidated slowly. She was still trying to piece it all together herself. Thinking back, Casey remembered other things about her sister. She remembered how swollen and chapped her sister's normally thin lips had been, and how her sister was wearing an extremely ugly beige wool turtleneck. She remembered how her sister kept adjusting the collar, pulling it up fiercely, carefully, and how she'd seen a flash of darkly red bruise on Lizzie's neck nonetheless. She remembered how her sister had staggered in, almost bowlegged, and how utterly in pain she'd looked. Maybe it wasn't just emotional pain.

Without realizing it, Casey was looking at Derek as she spoke. He nodded encouragingly, and she took that as a sign to continue. "I couldn't understand most of what she said--she was just sobbing hysterically. I caught a few words, but I don't think she wanted me to know. When she calmed down some, I asked her a few questions, but she didn't answer any of them. I gathered that it was something about a guy, though, and... I saw that..." Her speech sped up as the passion and frustration in her voice increased. She had wanted so badly to help Lizzie, but there was nothing she could do. She could only hold her sister close to her and rub her back and mutter senseless words of advice and try to distract her, but even that wasn't enough to comfort Lizzie. She just kept on crying without an end in sight. Casey had been surprised; Lizzie had sounded so utterly normal on the phone, and then suddenly there she was, falling to pieces in her arms.

Casey stopped there, unable to go on. She couldn't say it, not even to Derek who already knew. Derek was waiting for her to finish her sentence, but she couldn't gratify that wish. Her lips were unwilling; she'd already said too much. She choked up realizing exactly what had happened. I can't believe that Lizzie would do that to me. For some reason, this was all the more stunning and hurtful than the revelation that Lizzie was the woman Edwin loved more than her. She'd assumed as much, but she still couldn't wrap her brain around the bitter betrayal. Then it occurred to her that she couldn't blame Lizzie, even if it was something she would've never expected of her, because Lizzie was no better than her, and who was she to say what she would've done were she in Lizzie's footsteps? But more than that, I can't believe Edwin would do something so horrible... worse than Derek, a thousand times worse than anything Derek ever did! Casey felt red-hot anger flood her veins and heat up her cheeks. I am going to kill Edwin the next time he dares to show his face around me. He had no right... no right to do that to sweet, innocent, little Lizzie, my baby sister... no right to break both of our hearts at the same time.

Maybe Edwin wasn't as perfect as I thought, Casey admitted, buffing her nails on her dress. When you idolize someone enough to put them up on a pedestal, he always falls down nonetheless, and your image of them shatters... forever. Oh, God. I'm never going to be able to look at anyone in this family the same ever again. Who knows what secrets they're keeping from me? As she thought this, Casey's eyes once again spun to stare at Derek distrustfully. He frowned as if sensing her thoughts. "Casey, what did you see?" he murmured softly, cutting in to her reverie. Casey blinked. She really didn't want to discuss it, not now, and not with Derek, who was acting like they'd always been so buddy-buddy. Casey looked away from him abruptly. Maybe if I ignore him, he won't make me tell.

She had never told Edwin. She hadn't said a single word to him about it when he came back the next day, haggard and exhausted. Where had he been that day, that night, if not on the road and not with Lizzie, Casey wondered. Probably off with some other woman like that slutty ex-girlfriend of his, two-timing the both of us, she thought darkly. She'd said absolutely nothing, hadn't even told him Lizzie had dropped by. Besides, Lizzie was long-gone by the time Casey awoke, and there were no signs she'd even been there except all the tissues in her trashcan. It was like she hadn't been there at all, and so the night was never discussed again between them. It was like it had never happened. She hadn't seen much of Lizzie for the rest of the year; it had almost been like she was avoiding the both of them, she and Edwin (and she was), but from that point on, something about her had changed. Her formerly upbeat sister seemed depressed, and even though she put up a good front, Casey could always sense that air of deep anguish that wrapped itself around Lizzie like a wet blanket. It had never quite gone away, Casey realized; it had only lessened, and then I didn't perceive anymore.

She was just seventeen when he... Casey choked back a sob for her sister, for herself. She wasn't going to shed another tear, especially not now and over the other woman, as piteous as her situation had been. Realizing she wasn't going to talk, Derek reached out and grabbed her wrist painfully, jerking her around to face him. "Casey, tell me," he hissed warningly. Casey stared up at him with hateful eyes, knowing he was going to make her say it. That was what Derek did. He pushed, and he schemed, and he bullied until he got what he wanted. It wasn't like him to brush something under the rug; he'd rather just have it all out.

Casey sighed, glaring at him in the fierce way she was accustomed to. She was wrong; Derek hadn't changed at all. She wanted to shake him off like a dog, but his grip was bruising. She took a deep breath, hating that she'd mentioned it and now she was going to have to tell him. "I saw that..." she restated, once again unable to finish her sentence. Unbelievably, Derek clenched her wrist even tighter instinctively. She squinted her eyes shut, wanting to cry out in pain but unable to give Derek the satisfaction. Casey's eyes shot open, and she pulled her head down. "That she was no longer a virgin," Casey said finally, more than a bit stiffly, regretting it as soon as she said it. Derek released his grip on her wrist, nodding to himself. So it was true. He had known.

This time it was her turn to give him a questioning look. She clutched her wrist protectively to her stomach. Derek briefly shot her a look that could almost be considered apologetic. He sought to explain. "I guessed as much... I just didn't think it was Ed, you know? She sent me this cryptic email about it, asking for advice. I read between the lines a little," he grunted, leaning back against the stairs. For a moment, Casey was offended and jealous that her sister had gone to Derek instead of her, seeking advice, but she supposed it was understandable. Lizzie had always kept to herself more than Casey, and it suddenly hit Casey just how much all the duties of planning the wedding and hearing her obsess about Edwin must've hurt her sister.

"And what did you tell her?" she asked hesitantly, curious as to whether Derek's advice had helped. She was almost scared to think of what he'd said. She knew, at least, that he saw Lizzie almost as his own little sister.

Derek's face hardened. "I said that he wasn't worth it. I told her to forget about him because he was obviously an asshole. Guys like that only want one thing, and once they've got it, they don't care anymore," Derek growled frostily. His voice took on a bit of an edge. The pent-up wrath showed through his words. He wanted to kill Edwin even more than Casey did. It was ironic. Casey had always thought Derek was that kind of guy, but apparently even he wasn't that unfeeling. Derek's eyes darkened with silent rage before he continued. "And a while later she emailed me back and told me I was wrong. He wasn't like that at all. He loved her. It was just... complicated." The disgust was evident in Derek's voice. Complicated was an understatement.

Casey rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe her sister would say something like that. She had thought her sister had more self-respect than that. Lizzie was the strong one, the one who comforted her. Derek interrupted her thoughts once again with all the tact of a bulldozer. "So, how'd you and my brother hook up anyways?" Derek pondered loudly, curiously. It had never been discussed before. Things like that weren't discussed in polite company because they were step-siblings. It was wrong to ask how two step-siblings wound up becoming something more.

She looked over at him, genuinely surprised by his question. She didn't know how long it had been eating him up inside, the not-knowing... the wondering. What made Edwin acceptable? Why was he good enough for Casey? How could Edwin, inferior in every way, possibly meet Casey's high standards? Then Casey laughed, a dry, humorless laugh. "You really want to know?" she quipped, almost amused. The false laughter disappeared from her eyes at the suddenly serious look on her face. He did. She sighed and a thoughtful, somewhat happy look spread across her face in reflection. She almost looked like she had earlier: a radiant, confident, brilliant, non-broken bride, but she was a shadow of her former self. His stupid little brother had seen to that.

A dreamy look flitted across Casey's face, almost as if she had forgotten all about him and the failed wedding. "Edwin always swore it started back at the house, when we all lived together. He said he saw me, and immediately got a huge crush on me... but I know that's a lie, because he didn't like girls then. He said, though, that I was the first girl he ever had a crush on," Casey began dazedly, as if she was enchanted by the romance of it all. It's not that romantic, not at all, Derek thought irritably. More like creepy, actually, like some sort of stalker. Oh, he believed her all right. He'd caught Edwin muttering her name under his breath, rather indisposed, once when the kid was fifteen. The sight of his brother had completely ruined his appetite all day. Especially since he couldn't say he hadn't done the same more than once with Casey's name on his lips.

Derek just nodded, trying to keep the look of distaste off his face. His brother was not smooth, not charming, not flirtatious, even... so how did he land Casey when there were so many other, better men out there, real men, not boys? Gazing at Casey, who was still lost in herself, he reminded himself that she had clearly never entertained like notions towards his brother when they'd all lived together. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. She shrugged diffidently, looking a bit more grave. "Then I went to college, and Edwin got there in the middle of my third year... He was kind of a burst of fresh air. He reminded me so much of you guys and how much I missed you all... even you, Derek. So we became pretty good friends because he was so young, and he didn't really fit in... and neither of us really had anyone else but each other," Casey stopped there, the emotion thick and caught up in her voice.

Hesitantly, Derek placed his hand on her bare shoulder. She was cold to the touch. Casey jumped slightly, but she didn't push his hand away. Edwin had graduated early, around Christmas time, for some reason, so he'd wound up at college second semester with Casey. She looked down, wrapping her arms around her knees. "He came on to me the next year, right away... He didn't waste any time, but I kept pushing him away because he was so young and so perfect and so much like a little brother to me. He fought so hard those few months that he eventually wore me down. The attraction was mutual. Then he turned nineteen, and he was suddenly so mature, so I felt like I could finally say yes to a date. And it all kind of spiraled out of control from there," Casey rambled helplessly, losing it. Derek had never known his brother to be so persistent, but Edwin was endlessly patient. Certainly, even Derek had never been able to wear Casey down, no matter how hard he'd tried.

She sighed, feeling the tears come to her eyes once again. Casey fiercely tried to blink them back, but one or two slid past her eyelids and down her porcelain cheeks. "Next thing I knew we were dating, and then we told the family, and then we were in love... and then we were getting married and I could see forever with him. I really mean it, Derek. I seriously saw myself spending the rest of my life with Edwin," Casey whispered hopelessly, collapsing into his arms. She was crying for what she had missed out on, for what she would never have, and gasping for breath like a fish above water. Derek wrapped his arms around her awkwardly, knowing he wasn't comforting her right, like his brother would. He didn't know how to do this.

But he wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs nonetheless, surprisingly more tenderly than Casey would've expected. They exchange a look that manages to communicate more than any conversation they have ever had. But this moment is too awkward for the both of them to keep up much longer, so it is Derek who removes his hands from her face and looks away. Casey swipes at her eyes, ashamed that she'd appeared so weak and vulnerable in front of Derek. Derek didn't show it, but he was embarrassed too. He wasn't supposed to be sensitive. Derek was so flustered, in fact, that, while moving away from Casey, he said something very stupid. "Did you ever sleep with Edwin?"

The question slipped out so easily, so nonchalantly, that Casey just stared at him for a moment in utter disbelief. I can't believe he just asked me that. I can't believe he had to ask me that. Isn't it obvious? Edwin had been cheating on her with her sister. Satisfied men do not cheat. She was stunned into silence, which Derek enjoyed more than he should have. It was one of the few times in his life that he recalled Casey ever being silent. She didn't even have the energy to be offended. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Casey found her voice. "That's none of your business, Derek," Casey said primly, although Derek could hear the tremor in her voice.

He raised an eyebrow, rolling his eyes at her. Way to cop out, Casey. He moved closer to Casey, and he watched her grow visibly nervous. "It's okay, you know, if you did... You love him. You were going to marry him. You thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. No one would think any less of you," Derek remarked offhandedly. No one except my mother, he finished, but she thinks less of everyone, especially me. "No one would blame you. I mean, who's a virgin nowadays anyway?" Derek continued. Casey stiffened and could remain quiet no longer. She snatched her bouquet from where it lay on the steps and threw violently it at Derek's head.

She rose to her feet, affronted that he thought so little of her. Casting a glance back over her shoulder, she frowned. What a shame. It had been such a lovely bouquet. Pure white lilies, royal blue irises, and white roses. No trippy, mournful poppies or loud, overtly sexual orchids for her. Ironic, then, that Derek had caught it. What did that mean? "I don't know about your little sluts, but I am, Derek Venturi!" Casey shouted far too melodramatically and childishly for a woman of her age. She didn't stay to see the (no doubt) shocked look on his face. Instead, she whirled around and stalked down the aisle, composing herself carefully. I never thought I would be walking down this aisle again still a single woman, Casey thought bittersweetly, blinking back the tears that came at the thought.

She was halfway to the door when she heard footsteps padding behind her. Derek. Casey tensed and deliberately increased her pace, but Derek possessed more speed and endurance than did she. Quick as a flash, he dashed in front of her, stopping her dead in her tracks. He grabbed her forearms almost in desperation. His eyes were wide, his cheeks lightly flushed, and he was slightly out-of-breath. She just wanted to get out. Noel was waiting for her at the reception, and she'd wasted more than enough time here with Derek filling in the missing puzzle pieces. Casey looked down and suddenly noticed he was clutching the marriage license, which had been signed in advance by all the parties involved (the pastor, Edwin, herself, Derek, and Lizzie). On paper, Edwin and I are married. The thought left her breathless. The wedding bouquet, still miraculously intact, was in his other hand.

He sighed, offering the license and bouquet to her as peace gestures, but he didn't apologize. He was Derek Venturi, after all. Casey accepted the license and flowers half-heartedly, somewhat surprised at him. He couldn't look at her for some reason, and, despite herself, Casey wondered why. It's not like his view of me changed or anything. Derek let go of her, but she made no move to leave. He didn't notice. "You are a much better person than I am, Casey," he mumbled wearily, heading over to seat himself on a nearby pew. Confused, Casey followed him to the bench. She leaned down, looking at him, watching him with patient eyes. His head was buried in his hands, and when he finally looked up, she was startled to see the guilt in his eyes. She'd never known he could feel guilt like that. And, she added mentally, it isn't like he hasn't said worse to me.

She gave him a look, almost as if asking what was wrong. Derek sighed heavily, as if he was being weighed down by some terrible knowledge he possessed that she did not. But she kept staring at him, staring through him, really, until he forced the words past his lips. "I had sex with Lizzie last night," Derek confessed anxiously, looking so utterly ashamed of himself she could scarcely believe it. The guilt was written all over his face; she was surprised that Derek admitted he'd done something wrong. Apparently even he had moral standards. It was all just an accident, he thought darkly, one horrible, drunken mistake of an accident. He couldn't help it, but he'd take it back if he could. But Lizzie had been so drunk, in such a bad way, and she'd wanted Edwin so badly... And I wasn't thinking clearly at all, and I wanted something... someone else. We were all each other had. Not that Casey could believe it. He didn't... Derek... and Lizzie? Right before my wedding? She took another good, long look at Derek, and it suddenly became possible to her. He did, she realized in horror. Casey hated that, for some sick reason, it felt like her sister had beaten her to the punch.

It made sense, though, the more she thought about it. She remembered how ridiculously Liz had been flirting with Derek all through the reception dinner, almost as if she'd mistaken him for someone else. Derek had flirted back too, but not to the extent Lizzie took it. He'd just flirted back because that was the way he was. She had frowned seeing how the blatant display made Edwin's jaw clench in disapproval, or, rather, jealousy. It had made her sick to her stomach. Lizzie had been deliberately flirting with Derek to piss Edwin off (and she had certainly been very successful at this), and then she'd gotten completely blitzed afterwards at the bacheleorette party. Obviously she wanted to drown her sorrows in something a little warmer than a Long Island Iced Tea. Or, Casey thought nastily, she really wanted Edwin, so she settled for second-best because she knew that was all that was within her reach. Then again, Derek was never really second-best... more like one better. Derek had been more than a little drunk himself, although... he had seen Lizzie as a sister, hadn't he?

Some sister, huh. At the very least, Derek looked apologetic for it. She didn't know what to make of his reasons... if indeed he had any. Even Lizzie fell for Derek's charm, which was something Casey had never expected or anticipated. She couldn't say that the idea of a fling between them was necessarily the most shocking thing she'd ever heard; she had, after all, known how they'd kept close. It had just always seemed like Lizzie was immune to guys like Derek. She preferred a low-key guy, one with more of an even keel, someone smart and quiet, one who didn't have control issues. Derek's overt, magnetic charm, oozing masculinity and sensuality all over the place wasn't her sister's style, and it was a far cry from Edwin, to be certain.

In fact, for brothers, Edwin and Derek were as dissimilar as night and day. They came pretty close to being polar opposites. Edwin's hair was darker, almost black, kept carefully neat and short, while Derek perpetually had messy reddish-brown bangs hanging in his eyes. Edwin's eyes were wide, dark, and observing, and tended to continually look awestruck. Derek's eyes, on the other hand, were a lighter, more golden sort of shade, like honey. His eyes were hungry and frequently animated; they changed color in the light or depending on his mood. When he was furious, they darkened to almost black; when he was amused, they sparkled almost like spun gold. There was a wildness and a certain authority in them that Casey couldn't escape. They had similar features, similar shapes, but Derek was taller and more muscular, lanky, whereas Edwin was just thin. There were the differences of personality, of course, with Edwin being scientific, precise, scared, reliable, and mathematically inclined, whereas Derek was more of a highly physical, temperamental, manipulating, forceful, artistic type... and then there was the smirk, that casually perfect infuriatingly smug grin Derek had mastered and wore like a pro.

And then there were the pouty lips, but, Casey reflected, that was a similarity. Edwin's lips were only slightly fuller than Derek's, but she'd never fantasized about kissing him as a teenager. Ew. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the thought. Cradle robber. That was another thing. Edwin had been awkward growing up in a way that had completely escaped his brother. Perhaps this was because she'd seen Edwin go through puberty, as off-putting a thought as that was, or perhaps it was just a difference of nature. Derek gave the impression that he'd popped out of the womb the way he was now: cocksure, cool, and in control. Casey was ashamed to admit it, but when she was in-between boyfriends and could feel the desperation and desire pounding in her veins, she sometimes (okay, frequently) imagined what it would be like to kiss Derek. It would be good, probably better, she'd decided. After all, if Kendra, Emily, Sandra, and all her other friends hadn't been able to shut up about the things he did with those lips, his skill had to be nothing short of miraculous, right?

She hated that her first thought upon kissing Edwin was wondering whether kissing Edwin was anything like kissing Derek. It probably wasn't. She knew Edwin had a major complex about being compared to his brother, and that was part of the reason why she'd felt so bad about doing it. But in the end, Edwin was weak, and Derek was strong. It was as simple as that, as much as Casey hated to admit it.

It surprised her, nonetheless, that it had been Edwin who had finally said enough was enough, that he had been the one to call off the wedding. Certainly he had the least backbone of anyone in her blended family. Derek would've been the type to step in and do something brash or underhanded. She'd been watching him with beady eyes, waiting for him to make a move. Lizzie would've been driven by her guilt to something; she didn't believe for a second her sister would've just stood there and watched her marry Edwin. She hadn't had trouble standing up to her and siding with Edwin in the past. It had needed to be Edwin, though, for his good and for hers too. This way she couldn't blame it on anyone but herself and Edwin, not even Derek.

Casey shrugged, patting him on the shoulder with a nonchalance that surprised even herself. What am I doing? It surprised her how much she didn't really care or judge Derek. After all, when his brother had done so much worse, where was the room to condemn Derek for doing the same thing? Derek had been drunk, and he was a notorious womanizer; where was Edwin's excuse. She let go of the worrisome thoughts quickly. "Well, it's not like I was a very good older sibling myself. I tried to marry my much younger stepbrother," she retorted with a snort. A devilish smile played on Derek's lips as he tilted his head up to look at her. True, true, Casey, he thought with a nod, but what I did was so much worse because I had sex with Lizzie, sweet, vulnerable, naïve, in-love-with-my-brother, Lizzie. Lizzie who is supposed to be my little sister, like Marti, but apparently ceases to be any sort of sister at all after a couple drinks.

He let out a low chuckle. "Hey, Ed gave you the ring, babe. It was all him," he replied with a grin. Not that I blame him, Derek thought, rising to his feet and giving Casey a subtle once-over. After all, why wouldn't he want to have Casey? On a lark, Derek reached out and grabbed Casey's left hand, staring at the engagement ring on her fourth finger. She instinctively wanted to draw her hand back, so uncomfortable was she with the situation, but, for some reason unknown to the both of them, she didn't. Casey followed Derek's gaze, staring down at the accursedly beautiful ring. Gazing at it adoringly, she felt a sudden rush of admiration for the man who had given it to her.

Derek's calloused fingers brushed across the ring. He smiled softly. "You know, that was my grandmother's engagement ring," he murmured huskily, holding her hand up in the light so that the stones sparkled. Edwin had never told her this. She wondered why; was it supposed to make him seem more romantic? She thought he'd just bought it somewhere, a jewelry store, pawn shop even. Edwin had a business or two on the side, but he couldn't have made that much money. The ring had to be worth thousands, more so because it was an antique. The center diamond was somewhere comfortably in between one and two carats, oval-shaped, and brilliantly clear. The two diamonds that flanked it were slightly smaller, perfectly round, and an unusual and probably unnatural ocean-blue. My something blue, she thought fondly. These stones were set in an elaborate engraved band flanked with tiny micro-pavé diamonds. Classic, just like Casey. His eyes turned pensive. "You would've liked her," Derek said quietly.

Casey nodded dumbly, unable to think of anything to say to that. Derek didn't drop her hand; rather, he kept it at face level between them and stared at her hard, like he was seeing her for the first time. The wedding ring was burning a hole in his pocket. Casey swallowed awkwardly, biting her bottom lip nervously. She was confused at his sudden change in mood. Everything had suddenly become so serious. What is he doing? Is something wrong with him? "Derek," she said warningly. Before Derek could think, he found himself pulling the band out of his pocket and sliding it on to her ring finger. Like my brother never got the chance to. He smiled but did not smirk, and it was a hesitant grin. What does he mean by that? Casey barely had time to wonder because a moment later, as if he'd suddenly remembered himself, Derek pulled his hand away abruptly and started marching down the aisle. His soft, smooth lips touched against her hand by accident.

She stood there, completely frozen in place, cheeks burning, still confused by what Derek had just done. Derek reached the doors and turned around, raising an eyebrow. "The reception, Case... You know, free food, gifts, party, open bar... You coming?" he questioned coolly. He was wholly himself again, and she was disappointed. Casey snapped out of her daze. She'd almost forgotten. Derek held the door open for her, gesturing towards it. She seemed hesitant, so he spoke first. "No better way to show Edwin up than by having a good time without him." A faint smile appeared on Casey's face, and she nodded slowly, walking towards her stepbrother. Following him out of the church, Casey shook her head and sighed. So long as I live, I will never understand Derek.


More than slightly drunk, Casey and Derek made their way towards her apartment. Casey had had quite a bit to drink, and she was charmingly tipsy. Derek, who could hold his liquor quite well, was barely even buzzed. They had stopped by her place to drop off all the presents and were rather loudly debating whether or not she should return them before returning to the hotel. "It's not like it's your fault! Edwin's the one who broke it off, you know," Derek argued irritably, playing devil's advocate. Despite her drunkenness, Casey shot him a reproachful look, placing her hands on her hips.

"I know," she growled drunkenly. I was there, remember? She scowled horribly and pushed Derek aside to get to the door first. "But the wedding didn't happen,Derek!" Casey exclaimed loudly, voice dripping with raw frustration. She threw her hands in the air dramatically before once again whirling around to face the door, fumbling with her keys. Derek rolled his eyes behind her back. Not for lack of trying, he thought, staring rather pointedly at her posterior. He bit his lip longingly, brushing his tongue across his all-too dry lips. His tongue felt like sandpaper. My brother is a moron. He's seriously missing out on that? Derek's thoughts quickly shifted into those of a decidedly more lascivious nature.

He was staring at Casey's figure hungrily when she pivoted to face him, a cross look on her face. She saw the smirk on his face and knew what it meant, and she did not like it. Placing a hand on her hip, she let her scowl deepen. "What are you looking at?" Casey hissed with more vehemence than she'd intended. Derek blinked, and the self-satisfied look on his face disappeared in an instant. He shrugged casually, and an annoyed Casey went back to her unsuccessful work with the keys. Eventually, after several long moments of this, Derek grew tired of watching. Has Casey ever been drunk before? She has no coordination whatsoever. Rolling his eyes, he walked over to her, suddenly snatching the keys out of her hand.

A frightened Casey flattened herself against the door, somehow facing Derek. He had startled her so badly that, even knowing he was Derek, her heart still raced and her breath still came out in pants. Derek was suddenly so very, very close to her. How didn't I notice that? Was he always this close, she pondered breathlessly, or am I imagining this? Her heart was thudding so fast, so hard, that she half-expected he could hear it, feel it, at least, with their proximity. Derek seemed so unaffected, even though most of him was pressed against her. It couldn't be that comfortable. He felt around for the doorknob with his fingers, suddenly noticing that Casey really was right there... practically begging for it. His eyes darted anxiously to her ruby-red lips, idly pondering what it would be like to... The perfect moment was upon him. Here was a moment where he might make a move and receive no rebuttal. All signs point to yes. I might never get a chance like this again.

He leaned in just a fraction of a millimeter, and then the keys clicked in the lock. Casey just stared, tense and relaxed all at the same time. Her breathing calmed and quieted, and though she could still feel the fierceness of her heart beating against her chest, she no longer felt as if everyone could hear. In that moment, the entire world seemed to slow down. It was impossible to tell which of them was leaning in, but the distance between them was diminishing all the same, almost painfully slowly. Derek instinctively leaned into her so that she soon lost count of how many places their bodies overlapped. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and Derek's fingers snaked around her back, sliding down the satin strings that laced the dress together. He could feel her tremble beneath his fingers through the thin, smooth silk.

Both were caught up in the heat of the moment, and neither wanted it to end. She could almost taste his lips, only a few millimeters away. Casey twisted the doorknob dazedly, eyes half-closed, digging her nails into Derek's shoulder. She wanted to go inside. The door flew open almost violently behind her, sending the both of them tumbling into the room, effectively breaking the moment. They brushed noses for a small eternity, but nothing happened. Casey drew back, suddenly realizing what she had been about to do. You're not that drunk yet, she scolded, casting a brief side glance at Derek. No matter how tempting... The champagne had clearly gone to her head.

She shook the foolish thought away and immediately covered Derek's mouth with her hand when she heard a whisper of a voice. He had been about to speak, but now he was just flummoxed. What was that? Casey listened intently. She would recognize that voice anywhere. It was Edwin, of course, and, when she listened a little more closely, she heard her sister speak as well. Her sister was speaking very softly, though, so Casey couldn't understand a word. All she heard was her sister's voice, whispering, and that made her furious. She's probably telling him how much she loves him, Casey thought bitterly, disgustedly. And Edwin's probably thinking just how lucky he is not to have married me.

Casey felt the tears fighting to fall once again. She didn't want to waste another tear over either of those traitors. It's still my wedding day, a part of her cried, and they don't even have the decency to wait until midnight. It's bad enough that I'm not married, spending my wedding night with the wrong stepbrother, but now, to add further insult to injury, my sister and my ex-fiancé have to have this out it in our apartment, in my bedroom, in my bed? Where was the justice? She stared fixedly at her bedroom door. It wasn't quite closed all the way but was left slightly ajar so that their voices echoed in the dark, empty silence of their apartment. It was enough to drive Casey insane, the wondering, but she couldn't budge. She didn't really want to know what they were saying; she didn't want to find them together. Derek tried to talk, but his speech was muffled by her hand. He saw how much it was bothering her, though, yet how unable she was to do anything about it, so Derek made a decision.

He ripped Casey's hand off his mouth before she saw what was coming and started walking determinedly towards her bedroom. Casey was distracted; she didn't notice until it was almost too late. She dashed after Derek, grabbing him by the shoulder. She didn't want to have to deal with this now, but Derek had to make everything one big confrontation. His hand was on the doorknob, and he obliged her by turning around. "Casey, the man led you on, cheated on you with your sister, and left you high and dry at the altar. You don't owe him one ounce of courtesy," Derek hissed, rage sparking in his eyes. Then he jerked free from Casey's grip and flung the door wide open, revealing the room's occupants for all to see.

Lizzie was standing in the moonlight, hands on her hips, still in her bridesmaid's dress. Unbelievably, Edwin was literally at her feet, on his knees, begging for her forgiveness. How cute, Derek thought sarcastically as a particularly nasty scowl formed on his face. The sight made poor Casey sway on her feet, and Derek had to wrap an arm around her waist to keep her steady. The tears started forming in the corners of her eyes full force. He couldn't even wait until tomorrow to... what... propose to my sister? What next, is he going to ask for the ring back? Casey stubbornly resolved not to give it back, casting a rather shy glance at Derek. He said earlier, in one of his kinder moments, when they'd been arguing over the very thing in the car, sipping champagne, "The ring belongs right there, on your finger. Don't take it off. It's perfect. You deserve it... Really, I couldn't see it on anyone else... He can't take that away from you, not after what he did. Besides, my grandmother would want you to have it." He'd added flippantly that she definitely deserved it for putting up with Edwin for six years. Six years, in Derek's opinion, was too long to put up with anyone.

Derek just felt ill at the perfect little picture of them. The nerve of his brother! Lizzie gasped upon seeing them there in the doorway, and her shocked gasp made Edwin turn. His eyes grew wide with fear, and rightfully so, since Derek wanted to kick his ass. "You have a lot of nerve to show your face around here, much less with Lizzie. Especially when you don't live here anymore," he replied coolly. Derek glared daggers at his brother, while Edwin assiduously avoided his stare. "Can't say I approve." The disapproval was heavy in Derek's voice. Dangerous things happened when Derek didn't approve, and Edwin knew this. He scrambled to his feet but did not leave. Neither of the girls said anything, as both were entirely mortified by the situation.

Edwin had a lot more backbone than Derek remembered. Maybe even balls, Derek thought darkly, crossing his arms over his chest and continuing to glare at him. Maybe Lizzie and Casey had made Edwin a stronger person, but he still couldn't stand up to Derek. "I live here, Derek. I can do what I want," he retorted defiantly. Derek was about to speak, about to punch his brother in the face like he deserved, but Casey placed a soft hand on his arm, pulling him back. She stepped forward, utter fury etched into every feature. She wasn't about to take that lying down. Like Derek said, he'd dumped her, and she owed him nothing.

Casey shook her head, a bitter, wry smile on her lips. She could easily get just as dangerous as Derek when pressed. "No, you can't, Edwin. You seem to have forgotten that my name and my name alone is on the deed, not yours. You might pay half of the rent, but you live here only because I let you. What I say goes, and I say you're out. Sorry if you don't have anywhere to go; too bad, so sad, should've thought of that before you left me on my wedding day. I'll be changing the locks shortly, so don't you dare think of trying to live here because I will sue. Now, I'm sure you could stay with our parents or one of your little friends or... even Lizzie," Casey pointed out frostily, giving him an icily polite smile. She didn't want to see Edwin for a very long time.

Derek raised an eyebrow at Casey, clearly impressed. That a girl, he thought proudly. She'll get over Edwin sooner or later. He bestowed this rare, pleased smile upon Casey before he turned to face the others. The smile became a smirk. "Now, as charming as this little reunion is, you're going to have to take it somewhere else like people with class. I believe a Motel 8 would suffice," Derek continued meanly. He had lost all respect for his brother, so why even bother feigning civility when he clearly didn't merit it? As far as Derek was concerned, he deserved to get as good as he gave. Equal civility for equal respect, and Edwin had done something so morally reprehensible that even Derek wouldn't dare to top it. Casey shot Derek a grateful look, silently admitting that she couldn't handle this on her own. In a way, it was kind of nice having someone around to help her.

Lizzie was flushing horribly, and she made to move towards the door. Her eyes were filled with tears just like Casey's, and she radiated a million apologies with every breath. "I'm sorry, Casey, and I know that isn't enough. An apology doesn't make it right. I should never... I had no idea that he was going to... I thought he was going to marry you. I might've been jealous, but I always wanted you to be happy, the both of you... I wasn't going to do anything. I didn't... not after you got engaged. It was like it was okay because I knew you love him as much as I do and that you'd make him happy. And I'm sorry it had to turn out like this. I never wanted any of this to happen, Casey. I'm sorry I ever did anything. I wish I hadn't... But it was just that one week, and after that just phone calls and letters. I wouldn't let him do that to you," Lizzie blathered hysterically, apologetically, looking so genuinely miserable that Casey almost thought their situations were reversed. Liz neither acted nor looked like a victorious woman, and perhaps she hadn't really won at all.

Nonetheless, Casey alone understood what she meant. She regretted ever getting involved with Edwin as she had known it was wrong from the start. Her sister had been perfectly ready and willing to accept that Edwin wanted to be with Casey as long as they were both happy, and she was fully prepared to accept those wedding vows. So Casey didn't have to worry that they'd planned the whole torrid affair out together. She genuinely hadn't intended to do anything, it seemed. Lizzie loved Edwin just as much as Casey did and the affair they'd been having was more emotional than physical, probably because Lizzie couldn't help it. At least she has that much respect for me; it's more than Edwin had. Apparently the only time she'd really cheated with Edwin was that one week before things had gotten serious, before Casey was really head-over-heels in love with him. That, at least, was a relief, to know it hadn't been some awful serial thing.

"And I'm sorry you had to find us here. I came here after the wedding because I needed to think, and Edwin found me a few hours ago. We haven't done anything. We were just arguing. I didn't want to do anything. I understand if you never want to see me again, so I'll just leave you in peace," Lizzie explained awkwardly, feeling the necessity to clarify that she, at least, had the decency to wait. Casey's arm reached out to stop her sister from walking past her. Lizzie looked absolutely petrified, and Edwin was more than ready to jump to his beloved's defense. However, Casey did not intend to harm her sister. Understanding everything her sister felt, she could accept it as Lizzie had done for her. How could she say no? Everyone except her would be happier this way, and Edwin didn't love her. After all, Lizzie had loved him first, and she would undoubtedly love him better than Casey ever could. It would take some time, but she could forgive her sister. She could not say that, were she in Lizzie's place, she would've done the same.

"I understand," Casey murmured quietly, so that only her sister could hear. She didn't want Edwin to think it was okay because it wasn't. It might never be okay, but she would always love her sister, and she would always support her. "I just... need a little time, Liz. And I can't see either of you right now," she whispered, wincing as she heard her voice break. Casey stubbornly blinked back the tears, wiping away her sister's with more tenderness than anyone expected. Lizzie smiled through the tears, nodding, before she waved goodbye and left abruptly. Derek thought this was a wise course, but Edwin, the real culprit, had stayed behind.

Edwin cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly. The room was as silent as the church had been afterwards. Casey said nothing, but she compensated for that by staring at Edwin in a way that made him wholly uncomfortable. Derek's glare only strengthened with his brother's continued presence. Suddenly something clicked in Edwin's mind. Something was wrong with this picture. What were they doing there anyway? Derek and Casey hate each other, so why are they here together? It doesn't add up, but it couldn't be written off as an anomaly either. He crossed his arms over his chest, unintentionally mimicking his brother, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "What are you two doing here?" Edwin asked stiffly, making it clear that he was really asking Derek. The together was unspoken but implied.

Casey's cheeks turned a faint pink at Edwin's insinuation, remembering what had almost transpired. If he wasn't here, I could've... Edwin's eyes darkened slightly, and Derek stepped forward, seeing this, in front of Casey. "I don't really think that's any of your business, Edwin. She lives here, not you," Derek said harshly. And she can have anyone she wants in her apartment, he added mentally, feeling rather satisfied at the the thought that she wanted him around. "You forfeited all your rights to object to her company earlier," he drawled confidently, smirking. Maybe I'm enjoying this too much... He shook his head in disbelief. "Just remember, Ed, you gave up that."He gestured to Casey, giving her a sweeping, appraising glance. Moron. If it was my choice, man... Edwin straightened up, noticing the hostility in his brother's eyes, and tried to look imposing.

Derek took a few steps forward. Like I'm afraid of my kid brother, he quipped, rolling his eyes. Casey, sensing an impending fight, swooped in between them. Casting nervous glances between the two brothers, she placed a delicate hand on Derek's chest, which was more than enough to stop him in his tracks. She made sure to shoot Derek a pointed look. And some things never change, she mused almost nostalgically, finding herself wishing for the days when things were simple, when she had been so entirely sure she hated Derek and thought no more of Edwin than an annoying little gnat. Ten years and they were still fighting... only they're fighting over me. Neither of them wants me, yet they're fighting... over me. She turned to Edwin, a pleading look in her eyes. "Edwin, please... Just go," Casey begged in desperation, motioning for him to leave. Let me let go.

He shot her a briefly disgusted look, like he thought there was something going on with her and Derek after all. She was surprised that Edwin, of all people, suspected her of such a thing after what he'd done with her sister. It was like he didn't even know her at all, to think so little of her. But eventually the look on his face softened, and he nodded briefly, silently apologizing as he brushed past her. He was too ashamed to look at her, but Casey's eyes followed him all the way out of the room. Derek noticed and placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. It didn't work. Casey just shrugged out of his grip, retreating into herself.

Derek bit his lip, hating to see her like this. He didn't want to tell her, but he couldn't say silent any longer. "Casey, no one wanted you to marry Edwin," he blurted out accidentally. His slip of the tongue didn't make the words any less true. Casey stiffened at this comment and proudly shook her head no. Derek couldn't resist an argument, so he persisted. "Dad and Nora wanted you and Ed to be happy, sure. You're a nice girl, and Edwin's supposed to be a nice guy. But that doesn't change the fact that you're stepsibs. They're relieved, Casey. Your dad never wanted to give you up, much less to Edwin, who he never thought was good enough for you. Marti loves the both of you... just not together. She wants you to be with someone else, someone right for you," Derek rambled, getting caught up in his speech, almost on the verge of shouting.

She flinched but realized the truth of his words. He was right, of course. She'd sensed that something wasn't quite right, but she never would've thought that everyone at her wedding was against it. The more she thought about it, though, the more it made sense. Still, she couldn't help but wonder... Why didn't my dad think Edwin was good enough for me? Who does Marti think is right for me? Did she know about Liz and Edwin too? Did everyone know about that? Was it some family secret I wasn't privy to? And, if not Edwin, then who... who is right for me? Casey smiled bitterly, for once utterly unable to argue with him. "And Lizzie didn't want me to get married because she's in love with the groom, and you... You don't want to see me happy," Casey choked out venomously, accusingly.

An almost stricken look crossed Derek's face. He came towards her slowly, hesitantly, as if in a dream. He didn't want to frighten her away. "I do, Casey," he said and he meant it. She found herself believing him in spite of everything she ever thought she knew about Derek. Casey stared at him quizzically, hands akimbo, because she knew there was a catch. With Derek, there always was. Derek sighed heavily under her penetrating gaze. He exhaled, letting out a deep breath. "Just not with Edwin." It sounded eerily final. Casey raised her eyebrows in surprise. He had never really laid his disapproval on the table. It had been tacitly understood between them, but never stated outright. Derek looked relieved that he'd finally said it out loud. He shook his head. "Edwin could never make you happy," he breathed with a bit more emotion than was appropriate. She wasn't so sure. Casey didn't want to believe it because she had thought she was very happy with him, but maybe, just maybe, Derek was right about this too. Only... if not Edwin, then who could?

Remembering their conversation from earlier, Casey suddenly realized that she had an answer. Her answer alone was enough because it didn't matter what everyone else thought... only what she and Edwin had thought, and they'd been on completely different wavelengths. "Me,okay! I wanted me to marry Edwin!" Casey bellowed as loud as she could, meaning it, really meaning it. She plowed on, not even stopping to take a breath. She put herself out there, feeling awfully vulnerable. "And he must've wanted to marry me to at some time because he proposed to me... Not my damn sister," Casey continued defensively. She gazed down at the ring on her finger: mine, and not Lizzie's. She didn't stop screaming until her throat was raw, and her voice was hoarse and throaty. She couldn't stop. She didn't even realize she was crying until she collapsed, sobbing, in Derek's open arms. "I loved him!" she wailed, shaking with the tears.

He was still no good with crying females, but he was getting better. He rubbed her back hesitantly and muttered something he hoped was soothing. He knew she needed this, to get out everything she'd bottled up all day. "I know... He didn't deserve you, Case." Casey continued to cry, though, no matter what Derek said. Maybe I'm doing it wrong, he couldn't help but think. It wouldn't be like this if Edwin was in my place. He reminded himself yet again, as if he hadn't been obsessing about it for the past six years, how truly different he and his brother were. It wasn't necessarily a good thing.

As if she could read his mind, Casey pulled away for a moment to look at him with those glassy doe-eyes, to really look at him for the first time. "I'm glad you're not like Edwin, Derek. There are a lot of things that you'd do that he wouldn't," she murmured softly, still crying. For once, this wasn't a bad thing. The flow of tears had lessened somewhat, so she wiped her cheeks hastily with the back of her hand. She was too emotionally drained to feel embarrassed at being so vulnerable around him. She'd seen a whole new side of Derek today, and a part of her felt ashamed for writing him off so long. She found that she liked what she'd seen. Casey didn't admit that she was wrong often, but she was glad to admit that she'd misjudged him. I was completely wrong about him.


"What are you going to do tomorrow, Casey?" Derek asked curiously. As per her request, he was untying and loosening the strings of her dress. Her drunken coordination wasn't the best, and her hands shook when she tried to do it herself. The knot had given him a lot of trouble, but his skilled fingers soon worked out all the loops and kinks in the careful bow. It had been tied at least four times if not more. My brother couldn't have untied it that quickly, Derek thought somewhat pridefully.

At first, Casey was silent and confused, stuck in a stupor. What is tomorrow again? Then she remembered: the honeymoon. He's talking about the honeymoon. We were supposed to leave tomorrow. She could feel the tears quickly rising to her eyes at the memory, and she forcibly willed them down. No more tears. Not over Edwin and the stupid life we could've had together. He chose your sister, Case, so get the hell over him. For some strange reason, the voice in her head sounded almost exactly like Derek. Derek's fingers accidentally brushed against her back for quite possibly the millionth time. It was driving her insane.

Now that Derek brought it up, he had a good point. What am I going to do tomorrow? Pick up the pieces of a shattered life, I guess, but what about the honeymoon? There is no honeymoon; she contradicted herself. For a very long moment, she thought it over. Derek had loosened the dress enough by that point that she could easily slip out of it. Derek gave her a hand, helping her get up from the cushy bed. He seemed to be judging her with that penetrating stare. It was her wedding night, and she was all alone except for him in the Honeymoon Suite. Reminders were all around her if she chose to see them. He couldn't leave her alone, even if he wanted to.

Casey had imbibed a bit more upon arriving in the suite. A bottle of freshly-chilled champagne had been waiting for her and her husband, so she'd corked it open and made numerous bitter toasts to her utter lack of a husband. She'd forgotten how much she hated being single. So she needed Derek's assistance doing simple things, like standing. When she faltered, Derek awkwardly managed to help her out of the dress. The dress hit the floor, and Casey flopped back down on the bed. She landed on her back in a lounging position. Sitting up, leaning on an elbow, she demanded primly that Derek hang the dress up, as she'd spent good money on it, but he didn't hear a word she said.

He was too busy gaping at her. Casey was only wearing a very revealing set of lingerie; it was the stuff of dreams. She was wearing a white corset, skimpy lace underwear, and a garter. Derek stared openly, bulging eyes searing into her skin, but Casey didn't notice. Eventually she looked up and noticed that Derek wasn't doing as she'd asked, so, rolling her eyes, she rose to her feet, stumbled past him and hung up the dress carefully in the closet. Derek was frozen in place. This is too good to be true. I've got to be dreaming. But there she was, in his face. "I think I'm gonna go," she announced finally, smiling widely.

At first Derek thought she meant that she was actually going to leave the hotel room in the middle of the night in only her underwear, but Casey was a sensible girl. He suddenly realized that she was talking about the honeymoon. He nodded dully, still distracted. Unbelievably, Casey still hadn't noticed that he was staring at her, practically drooling. "What about Ed?" he questioned, watching Casey for a reaction.

Casey shrugged apathetically, but Derek knew she was still affected by it. "What about him?" she retorted with a bit more bite than she'd intended. Then she smirked, fishing two slips of paper out of the massive purse she'd brought with her. "The joke's on him. I've got the plane tickets," she replied, waving the tickets in his face immaturely. He grinned in spite of the seriousness of the moment. That's the spirit, Case! Maybe she's getting over him faster than I thought... Derek grabbed one of the tickets, holding it still so he could read it. Air Canada, Flight 203, Terminal One, Toronto Pearson International Airport to Paris-Charles de Gaulle. So Casey and Edwin would've honeymooned in Paris then, huh? He'd expected some warm, tropical place, but Paris was just so Casey that he wasn't that surprised. He handed the ticket back to Casey, who rolled over and put both of the tickets back in her purse.

That was his ever-compulsive Casey, always worrying about putting things in their proper places so she wouldn't lose them. He smiled at the familiarity of the gesture as he seated himself on a nearby chair. They remained in a nice silence for the ensuing moments until Casey spoke. "Can you get a month off?" Casey asked suddenly, turning to stare at him. Derek gulped hard, eyes widening at the rather suggestive way she was sitting. Derek thought about it for a moment, wondering why Casey was asking him this. He had hockey practice all throughout the year, even between seasons. Asking Coach for a month off would cause a lot of unneeded stress, especially since he'd just been transfered, but it was June, and he hadn't taken a proper vacation in many years. Not since he'd played for the Knights, and that had been at least four or five years ago.

He merely shrugged. Maybe I can get time off... And if not a month, then at least two weeks. "I can ask," he replied, not sounding too excited at the prospect. Be cool, Derek. Casey nodded indifferently. He frowned, wondering why she'd asked. "Why?" he inquired somewhat suspiciously. Casey looked up at him, biting her lip.

She took a deep breath, feeling suddenly so nervous that her hands were shaking. She was very cold. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all... He's so busy with the team and his movies... and his girlfriends. He probably doesn't have time for a... for me. She tried to talk herself out of it, and she was almost entirely successful. But Casey was not about to wonder what would happen anymore. She needed to know right away. Edwin had taught her that. Determined, Casey straightened up, leaning against the back of the headboard. Time to live a little, she resolved breathlessly. "I was thinking about taking you with me," Casey admitted softly, managing a faint smile. Her heart was beating double-time, just like it did every time she watched one of his stupid hockey matches.

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. He couldn't believe it. Did she just...? Yes, apparently she had because she was biting her lip in that endearing way that drove him completely insane. She has more guts than I thought, he thought with admiration. Hockey or Casey? His answer was obvious. He loved hockey, but it wasn't the sole passion of his life. "I'll see what I can do," he said somewhat flirtatiously, trying to maintain his cool. Okay, so I still can't believe that actually just happened. Suddenly it registered that that might not be the best answer. Casey wasn't smiling like he'd hoped. "I'd really like to go with you, Case. It sounds like a blast," Derek remarked sincerely, trying to keep the all-too-obvious enthusiasm from his voice.

The wide, relieved smile Derek had been waiting for broke out on Casey's face. She looked so happy, the happiest he'd seen her since before Edwin dumped her flat. I am so going to have to kiss Coach's ass for this, but I don't care. I'm going to Paris with Casey. On her honeymoon, he added mentally with a suggestive grin. It is the City of Love, after all. She looked like she wanted to hug him, but they didn't do that.

So instead, Casey settled for rising to her feet unsteadily, turning her back to Derek. Derek quickly got up to steady her, placing his hands on her waist. She could feel the body heat practically radiating off of him. He was so close that she caught a whiff of his scent: light cologne of the expensive variety, Ivory soap, laundry detergent, and something underneath that, something spicy and natural and masculine and so... pungently Derek. The smell of him was all around her; he was enveloping her in his essence. Faintly, she placed a hand on her forehead, feeling lightheaded. "Der, can you help me out of my clothes? I can't breathe," she rasped throatily. She'd forgotten how hoarse she was. So had Derek, who tensed and sucked in a shallow breath at her request. He'd forgotten how to think for a moment. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak, before realizing she couldn't see. He finally choked out a satisfactory answer and, regaining his senses, his nimble fingers made quick work of the garter and the corset.

Though she was enjoying his proximity a little too much, Casey drew away, clutching her arms protectively around her chest, back still to Derek. Out of respect for her modesty, Derek turned his back to her. He was mute. It was like he wasn't even in the room, only Casey was all too aware of his presence. She walked over one of her bags without stumbling and bent down to pull a silky chemise out of the bag, pulling it over her head. The slip was cool on her skin. She turned around just then, as did Derek. Her milky skin was illuminated in the moonlight. Derek felt the breath catch in his throat. She's so beautiful. My brother is really missing out on something here. "I'm sorry for always being such a royal pain in the ass," he suddenly blurted apologetically. He meant it too. He'd never really hated Casey.

Casey graced him with a gentle smile, just barely, like the Mona Lisa, but it was radiant in the moonlight. It was as if she'd been expecting it and just waiting for him to finally say the words. She walked over to the bed slowly, still grinning to herself mysteriously, before sitting gingerly the bed. She slid across the bed, pulling back the sheets carefully. Casey leaned against the headboard, looking at him. Her eyes softened with warmth. "You're a good guy, Derek. I hope you know that," she whispered in a tiny voice. She'd always known he was decent deep, deep, deep down. He had a soft spot, and Derek was known to do the right thing in the end. He read the sincerity in her eyes, the trust and openness in her features, and it scared him.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, struck mute by her remark, unable to accept the compliment. I am not a good guy, and I can't take much more of this, he thought, feeling the frustration rising up in him. The longer he stayed, he knew, the harder it would be to leave, and the longer he was there, the more likely he was to do something monumentally moronic. Like finally do the things I've been wanting to for years. He needed to leave her alone now, to go home and get some rest like a sensible person. The Leafs were expecting him at seven tomorrow. He flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and dodged the subject. "Well... I'm going to get going. I've got practice bright and early tomorrow," Derek said casually. But he didn't want to leave, and he knew it was just a lousy excuse. I need to get out of here. He saw the light in Casey's eyes dim, the way she pulled up the sheets and clutched them around herself.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, saying nothing. Eventually, Derek tired of the staring contest and capitulated, turning around and heading towards the door. His hand had just touched the doorknob when Casey spoke. "Wait," she called out needily. Her voice was so quiet. He didn't turn around at first, thinking he'd just imagined her voice, but then she spoke again. "Don't go," she pleaded with such a plaintive note in her voice that Derek was forced against his will to turn around. There was an imploring look on her face. "Stay," Casey murmured intently, locking eyes with him. Her stare was mesmerizing and Derek found, with some amazement, that he could read every emotion on her face. He saw the vulnerable, desperate look in her eyes, the pallor of her skin, the way she shivered, dead panic overtaking her features. He could make out the individual thoughts flitting across her face.

No, not again, she begged, terrified that here was another one, leaving her. Another stepbrother's leaving me on my wedding day. What is wrong with me? He realized then, suddenly, how very alone Casey was, and how mortified she was that she would wind up alone. I don't want to be alone, not anymore, she thought, wrapping her arms and the sheets closer around herself. She trembled like a leaf in the breeze nonetheless, feeling her isolation. But all the sheets and blankets provided her with little real warmth, and he noticed when she finally tore her eyes away from his to cast a longing glance at the empty side of the king-sized bed. I miss him, her heart cried out. She traced a pattern with her index finger on the sheets next to her absentmindedly. She looked so small and so afraid there, wrapped in the big white sheets, hugging her knees to her chest, all alone (and dangerously alluring) in the bed. He could taste how badly she wanted another warm body in the bed, how tired she was of sleeping alone.

And then she peered up at him, giving him a look he'd never seen before. Her dewy, long-lashed eyes were so blue that he was drowning in them. They were so full of a curious soft emotion. She bit her bottom lip softly, and he found it suddenly impossible to say no to her. All thoughts of saying no fell out the window when he was hit by an epiphany. The tender look on her face, in her eyes, the hesitant, soft language of her body, and what it all meant. There was an air of change about her. She didn't regret loving Edwin, and she still loved him, but she knew now that he wasn't right for her. And that, she thought bitterly, that hurts most of all. But I can't stop loving him any more than I can stop... Their stares met, and her eyes flashed like the diamonds on her engagement ring. I think I fell for the wrong stepbrother, she seemed to be saying to him.

That was it for him. I'm a goner. He started walking back towards her slowly, as if in a dream, changing his mind for good. "It wouldn't be right to leave you all alone on your wedding night, would it, Case?" he declared, flashing a self-satisfied smirk. Casey smiled back. After all, what kind of brother would I be if I did that to my sister? The answer came immediately: a bad one, worse still, one no better than Edwin.

And, in many respects, Derek was a bad one, but not tonight.

THE END

- Loren ;