I grab my water and don’t look in her direction.
“Ziggy, we’ll add this one to the tour list.” Mom shows me the mansion in Heartwood Valley that’s on Niki’s tablet again. “Ooh, the dessert tray. How does dessert sound? Do you feel like dessert?”
My stomach clenches. “I do not, thank you. Excuse me. I need to use the toilet.Ladies’ room. I need to use the ladies’ room.”
I retreat to the restroom, where something worse than morning sickness is waiting.
That something is a massively pregnant blonde in a navy dress with a diamond ring the size of a quarter sparkling inthe lights as she messes with her hair in one of the individual mirrors over the row of white marble sinks.
My eyes meet hers in her reflection as I freeze in my tracks, stifling a goodfuckthat I want to utter in Italian.
Abby Nora stares back at me.
She’s such a stuck-up cunt.
It’s impossible to see her and not hear her words in my head.
I should’ve done a sweep of the room before I came in here.
I should’ve made sure I knew where she was.
But I didn’t, and now we’re face-to-face for the first time since before I witnessed her telling everyone at her baby shower that I’m astuck-up cunt.
“Ziggy.” She stutters like she, too, can hear her words echoing off the restroom walls, even though nothing echoes off the demure ivory wallpaper in here. “Oh my god, it’s so good to?—”
“Great to see you too,” I blurt.
She stares at me as she reaches for a cloth towel from the basket between the sinks.
There’s no warmth. No trueit’s good to see you. No regret or apology.
Just awkwardness.
And I don’t think it’s because she’s heard what I did to her brother-in-law last night.
He didn’t recognize my name from her wedding, so I’m pretty sure he didn’t recognize me. Him calling me a cunt was probably because it’s a favorite word in their family. There’s a solid chance that he’ll never tell about last night because he doesn’t know he’s supposed to.
And I suspect she would definitely want him to.
I start to turn around to leave—I’d rather go puke in a bush outside—but then I stop myself.
I square my shoulders.
And I make myself turn around to face her again as she finishes wiping her hands, which she shouldn’t need to do after messing with her hair.
One more clue she’s nervous.
“Why?” I say.
She blinks. “Why what?”
“Why don’t you like me anymore? What did I do?”
Her nose twitches as she makes eye contact with my chin. “What are you talking about? Of course I like you. Duh. We’ve been friends forever, haven’t we?”
I swallow. “Right. Forever.”
I’ve had two months to fully accept that Abby Nora doesn’t want me anymore.
