The trouble with being alone was that it often happened when I was with people, right in the thick of things. I was here, I was part of something—but I also wasn’t. And right now, with Ben staring at Grace withyou can’t be seriouseyes, I wasn’t part of this. Not anymore. Not since stumbling in here with my cheese all over my boots and a hiccupy story about a pretty girl with sex hair.
Was the ring for her? It had to be.
Unless there were other women.
If there was one, there could be more than one.
If I let myself think about that, I’d never stop.
Grace mirrored his stance. “There’s no way I’m forcing my maid of honor to walk up the aisle with the guy who cheated on her.”
“Then they don’t walk together. We have plenty of time to figure out the logistics. There’s no reason to make any decisions tonight.”
She resumed her pacing, tossing out a quickly grumbled, “It’s not like weneedto get married anyway.”
“Excuse me? You want to run that by me one more time, sweetheart?”
As Ben stepped into her path once again, I turned my attention back to the cocoa. The marshmallows were surrendering to the heat and giving up their shape. I understood that in a strange, poorly translated way. I just knew something was happening to me right now, likely something I’d caused because I was the only common denominator in these shit shows, and I didn’t know who I’d be when it was all over.
Grace said something but I wasn’t listening. Ben sighed like he’d been punched in the stomach. I didn’t really need to know what she’d said. It was sure to be ridiculous and dramatic, and probably featured an ultimatum or two. She drew a lot of inspiration from evil queens.
That was Grace’s style. She fashioned herself as something of a villain, and though that vibe suited her, she was hardly villainous. She just knew who the fuck she was and couldn’t be bothered to care whether anyone had a problem with that.
My style wasn’t so clear-cut.
If I knew Grace at all—and I did—I knew she’d burn her entire wedding down if I didn’t stop her. She’d do it, she’d haveno shred of remorse, and it wouldn’t fix a damn thing. I’d still dissolve until I barely recognized myself. I’d still break until all those spots formed thick, leathery scars. But there was no way I was letting her cancel this wedding.
I could pull it together. I could do that. I’d find a way to deal with Teddy over the next few months. I’d put on a smile and get through it for Grace, and?—
No—no.
The pure wrongness shuddered through me.Iwasn’t the one who had to shrink into the shadows with my scars.Ididn’t have to hide behind my smeared mascara and broken heart.Hewas the one who’d done this. Let him stew in the discomfort he’d created. Let him see me wasting not a minute of my life mourning him, mourningus.Let him realize what he’d had and what he’d thrown away. Lethimsuffer.
“Grace, it’s fine,” I said, my voice dry, splintering over every syllable. “He’s a dick. There’s no reason to call off your wedding because a guy was a dick. I’m too tired to argue this with you so you just need to agree with me before Ben has a stroke.”
She crossed her arms as she studied me. After a moment, she turned to her fiancé and asked, “Why are you friends with a dick?”
Ben, with his brows high and his eyes hopeful for a smooth landing, shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s saved my life a couple of times, but that’s obviously unimportant to this situation.”
“Very unimportant,” Grace replied.
“Good, good,” he murmured, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Glad we’re clear on that.”
She stared at him for a moment, her lips pursed as she weighed the options. I knew she didn’t want to call off the wedding. She secretly looked at pics from the day she found her dress all the time. Our friend Shay had offered her family’s tulip farm as their wedding venue and Grace wouldn’t stop tellingpeople about the farm’s weirdly cute features. And she loved Ben a whole lot. Even if it didn’t sound like it.
“What are you going to do about this?” Grace asked him.
“I was gonna call him and rip his head off for a few minutes, but I can tell him to stop having my back in burning buildings if you want.” Ben held out his hands, shrugged. “I’m good either way.”
These two. If I could’ve laughed, I would’ve. They needed to get married. They needed their big party and their special day.
And I needed to figure out how to put on a happy face while I melted into nothing, just like one of these marshmallows.
chapter three
Emme
Today’s Learning Objective:
