I gape at Angela for her comment, essentially backing up Don.
“Matt couldn’t make it,” I state, but it comes out more like a mumble.
“Hm,” Angela tuts. “One of your best friend’s wedding and he couldn’t accompany you.”
I narrow my eyes but remain silent, not wanting to have this conversation in front of Don. When I go to speak again, a buzzing sounds from the black clutch I carry.
“That’s Matt now,” I state, pridefully, as I pull my cell phone from the clutch to see I have a text message. I step away from Angela and Don to answer Matt, even though it is just a text. Needing some fresh air, I wind my way around the guests and the tables of food that are set up around the bar, to step out onto the sidewalk at the front of Charlie’s. It is mid-spring and the weather is perfect.
I open my message to read Matt’s text.
Matt:When are you coming home?
Frowning, I bite my lower lip. I haven’t heard from Matt in the two days I’ve been in Williamsport for Angela’s wedding, despite my numerous calls, and this is his first message to me.
I’ll be back tomorrow evening.
I wait a minute or two for his response.
Matt:Tomorrow evening? I specifically asked you to be present to attend the art gala with me tomorrow night.
I knit my brows, trying to remember what he’s talking about. I have a memory like a steel trap. I would remember if he asked me to attend an art gala the day after Angela’s wedding. It also pisses me off that he’s making demands of me to attend yet another one of his high society events while he couldn’t be bothered to come to Williamsport with me to make it to Angela’s wedding.
So, I’m supposed to change my plans because of an event that you didn’t tell me about? But when I practically begged you to come to Angela’s wedding with me, you flat out declined.
I wait for his response.
And wait.
I get close enough to the point in which I don’t think Matt is going to respond to my last text, since he’s been known to do that, that I start to turn to go back inside to the reception again. Just then, my phone vibrates in my hand, with Matt’s response.
Matt:You know I had a work obligation. Otherwise, I would’ve been there. Are you able to attend the gala with me or not? If not, I will have to make other arrangements.
My grip tightens on the phone as I read that last sentence. It’s his not-so-subtle way of letting me know just how replaceable I am. Besides, he’s lying. I know he is. He works at a hedge fund that was founded and run by his father. He takes days off when he wants to all of the time. I’d let him know months in advance when the wedding was, but he still chose not to come. He’s being an ass, and for some reason I can’t bring myself to call him on it.
I’ll change my flight to get in tomorrow morning.
Matt:Good. See you tomorrow.
I stomp my foot, hating myself for being so weak, but after nine years, off-and-on, with Matt I just can’t let go. We met my sophomore year of college after I’d done the riskiest thing I’d ever done before or since. I used a fake ID to get into a bar, along with Angela and a few other friends. Matt is two years older and I was hooked since the first time I saw him. Nine years later, here I am, at my best friend’s wedding, dateless because my boyfriend couldn’t be so bothered to accompany me.
Pushing out a heavy breath, I turn for the door. As soon as I step over the threshold of the bar and glance up, my eyes land on a smiling Angela as she looks up at Eric. Even from halfway across the room I can feel the electricity between those two. A lump in my throat begins to form as I watch Eric’s tall figure lean down to say something that only his wife can hear. Angela tosses her head back and laughs as Eric tightens his hold around her waist.
I don’t know for how long I watch them, absorbed in their own little world. Just the two of them, even in a room full of people. I notice as Eric takes the lead, Angela’s hand firmly clasped in his, directing her toward the back of the bar, where I know there are stairs that lead to an upstairs apartment. The lump in my throat grows bigger as I realize that no one has ever looked at me the way Eric looks at Angela. After nearly a decade with my so-called boyfriend, I still long for that. Whatever thethatis that Eric and Angela share.
If a man wants you, he’ll take you off the market. Period. Point blank.
My mother’s words ring in my ears as I watch Eric and Angela disappear behind the door that led upstairs. My mother is correct. A fact I’m loathe to admit considering the source. But men don’t waffle about what they want. For the last five years, Matt and I have gone back and forth about marriage. He’d say the proposal was coming, even giving me more than one promise ring, but there’s never been an actual engagement. He’d take me ring shopping and then a month or two later, the conversation was off the table. There is always something more important coming up. It is never the right time to discuss it. But as I stand in that room full of happy celebrants of the bride and groom, I realize that ring is never coming. Not from Matt, at least. The dream I had of being married by twenty-five and a mother by twenty-seven is long gone.
It’s time to move on from Matt. I know that in my head. Now if I can just get my heart to cooperate.
Chapter One
Six months later
Janine
I did it.
