“As if I could.” I wave a hand. “It’s fine. I can run by in the morning and grab them. I could ... crap.”
“What?”
“I can’t go in the morning. I have to be at the cidery to let the florist in.”
I check the clock on my dashboard.We’re late.I’m sure that’s not a shock to anyone, especially not Noah, but if I step on the gas, we could have time to stop by Izzy’s and make it to the restaurant, even if we are only a few minutes late.
“We can go now.”
“What? Won’t we be late?” Izzy chews on her bottom lip, ruining her lipstick, which she’ll need to fix.
“It’s fine. You’re the bride—you’re never late,” I reassure her, making a U-turn, taking Harborview Boulevard toward Izzy’s neighborhood.
Thankfully, Port Harbor isn’t known for its traffic, and we lose only five minutes by the time I pull my car along the curb.
“You stay here,” I tell her as I throw off my seat belt. “Don’t want to risk getting your dress dirty. I’ll run in and grab them real quick.”
She sighs in relief. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Jewelry box?”
“Yes. The door code is—”
I put my hand up. “Please, I know the code.”
She laughs as I fling open my door. I jog up the driveway as best I can in my heels, then punch in the code—Izzy and Craig’s date-iversary. I don’t bother to close the door behind me, leaving it open for a quick exit, and race up the stairs toward her bedroom.
I pass photos lining the hallway, many from back in college when Izzy and Craig first started dating, and smile. All their years together have led to tomorrow. To the gorgeous mermaid dress Izzy picked out, to the vows she’s been working on relentlessly, and to the life I know they’re looking forward to building. I can’t wait to see them finally get their happy ending.
I push into the bedroom, going straight for the jewelry box on the dresser.
I’m so focused that it takes me a minute to realize what’s happening behind me. To get a good grasp on what I’m seeing in the mirror.
Then I scream.
“What the fuck?!”
There, in the middle of Izzy and Craig’s bed, is Craig with a woman on top of him. Naked. Completely bare.
“Odette?!” Craig hollers as I whirl around. “What the fuck? Get the fuck out!”
He yells at me. That sleazy, slimy bastard yells atme. As ifI’mthe one in the wrong. As if he doesn’t have his dick tucked inside some woman who isnothis fiancée.
The fiancée he’s marryingtomorrow.
Craig and his friend, who looks vaguely familiar, scramble to cover themselves, and while I’m grateful for it, it’s too little, too late. This image is already seared into my brain.
This terrible image. This horrible deed. The one I’m going to have to tell my best friend about on the night before her wedding.
My best friend who was all smiles just ten minutes ago. The one who couldn’t stop giggling when talking about her fiancé. The one who is irrevocably in love with the man before me.
This will crush her. This crushes me.
Feet pound up the stairs, and my heart plummets.
“Odette?” Izzy calls. “What is it? What happened? I heard you scream and I—”
I spring into action, rushing toward her to block her from seeing this too. This doesn’t need to be scorched into her memory like it is mine. She doesn’t deserve this, and Craig certainly doesn’t deserve her.
