I shake that bitter thought away and send a reply to the text she sent a few minutes ago.
Kate: Good morning! It’s wedding day! How are you feeling this morning?
Me: Good as new. It’s go time!
I’m a second away from locking my screen and setting my phone aside when another message appears. It pops up above our conversation, and my stomach sours.
Unknown: Can we talk before the wedding? I’m in the lobby. I don’t want any bad blood to ruin your sisters day.
It’s clearly James. After our breakup, I deleted his number and never looked back. Clearly, he didn’t do that same. Well, that or my mother gave it to him. Option two seems a bit more realistic.
Either way, it’s not exactly a bad idea. Despite what happened last night and the fact that speaking with him is the last thing I really want to do after waking up in Grayson’s arms, it would mean the chance to put things to rest.Indefinitely.
That’s the only reason I carefully lift Grayson’s arm from my waist and set it on the blankets between us before slipping out of bed. The air is cool against my naked body as I pad across the room and snag my bag from the dresser. I get dressed in the clothes I brought for the drive home tomorrow—baggy sweatpants and a hoodie to match—and sneak out into the hall.
Sneakisn’t technically the correct word, considering I’m not doing anything wrong. The guilt creeping through me doesn’t seem to recognize that. It feels all very one-night-stand-esque as I wait for the elevator to take me down to see my ex-boyfriend and send him a quick text to let him know I’m coming.
By the time the elevator arrives and starts to take me down to the first floor, I’m past feeling guilty. It’s grown far worse than that. There’s dread dripping like cold water down my spine like a warning for me to turn back around and crawl back into the arms I left far too early.
There’s no time to spin back around and hightail it out of here, though. The moment the doors open, James is there waiting.
He’s still wearing the same clothes as yesterday. His dress pants are wrinkled just about everywhere, and the buttons on his shirt are mismatched, like he did them up in a hurry. My eyes narrow on the lipstick mark on his collar and the bruise below it. I blink a few times, as if that’ll help me gather my thoughts.
“Hey, Jill,” he says, smiling innocently.
I cautiously step out of the elevator. “Hi. You wanted to talk?”
“Yeah, want to go to my room? It’s just down the hall.”
I instantly shake my head. “No. We can talk by the vending machines.”
He looks like he wants to argue but opts out of pushing me. We make our way into the small alcove in the hall, and I cross my arms, leaning against the candy machine.
“It looks like you had a busy night,” I say before I can stop myself.
It isn’t jealousy or even so much as basic interest that spurs me to mention his dishevelled appearance, but rather the fact that he’s here as a guest of my family and doesn’t appear to have tried to behave.
He reads into it the opposite and smirks, seeming to grow taller. “Are you upset I didn’t invite you, Jill?”
“No. I had a great night in my room.”
“So, then what’s it matter to you if I was busy? You’d be surprised at the fun you can find in this town when you’re looking for it.”
I crinkle my nose and plaster myself to the vending machine. “What did you want to talk about, James? I came down so we could clear the air before the wedding, that’s it. If you’re not going to take this seriously, I’m going to go back upstairs to bed with my boyfriend.”
“You don’t have to keep up with this ruse right now. It’s just us. Admit that you only brought him to make me jealous, babe. We all know that’s the truth.”
His words shouldn’t surprise me as much as they do. Unfortunately, it seems my guards dropped too low.
“We’re too old for these kinds of games. I’m not jealous, and I didn’t bring Grayson to poke at you.”
“Come on. Don’t make me beg for the truth here,” he pushes, stepping closer.
He reeks of alcohol and cheap perfume. In this close proximity, the combination is almost enough to make me retch. Maybe then he’d believe me.
“I’m being serious. I like Grayson. A lot. He’s a good guy, and I don’t want to waste the time I have with him here having a pointless conversation with you about the past. If you truly want to clear the air, then let’s talk like grown-ups. I’m sorry that my mother invited you here, and I don’t know what she said or promised in return, but I really didn’t do all of this with the hope of getting back with you. It’s been years since we dated. We’re not even compatible anymore. I’m not sure we ever were.”
His mood sours. The shift is obvious, and I stiffen, ready for the cruel words that always followed him being put in his place by anyone, me included. He’s not a violent man, but he’s not good at keeping his words respectful, either. Not when he’s upset. That’s part of the reason why I broke up with him. That and his lack of genuine interest in being with me. It was always all about him, and after a while, that grew tiring.
