Her chest ached, sharp and tight, as she thought of the look in his eyes that had stolen her breath and convinced her that he was ready.
She blinked hard, but the sting of tears burned anyway. She would not cry. Not here.
She should go back to the Cinnamon Spice Inn. Back to the wedding, the laughter, the safety of noise and people who didn’t make her feel like her entire world was spinning. But her legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t face anyone.
The shame seared her. The shame at how easily she’d given herself over, how hungrily she’d wanted him. She’d thrown herself at him like some lovesick teenager, only to be reminded, brutally, that it was going nowhere.
Fake dating was supposed to be lighthearted. Harmless. For her mom, until the Spring Fling was over. But it had shifted everything. Their friendship. Their rhythm. Now the ease they’d had for two decades had been thrown away by one reckless night.
Zoe turned away from the water, arms hugging herself tight. She couldn’t go back to the wedding, not yet. She couldn’t smile, couldn’t pretend that they were happily in love.
Her legs carried her blindly down the quiet path that snaked its way around the lake. She didn’t know where she was going—only that she couldn’t put on a brave face right now. Couldn’t stand knowing Jackson was still nearby, guarded and unreachable, holding back while she was breaking apart.
Eventually, she found herself back at her apartment above the Cherry Crush Flower Shop, eyes itchy from crying, her chest hollowed out. Whiskers darted over immediately, tail high, meowing like she’d been gone for days.
“Hey, sweetie.” Her voice cracked as she scooped her up, burying her face in her fur. She pressed her eyes shut, fighting the tears threatening to spill once more.
Zoe decided right then and there that she could fall apart into a crying puddle on her kitchen floor, or she could reach out to a friend.
She texted Krista right away.
Something happened with Jackson. I need someone to talk to. Can you stop by after the wedding?
Say no more. I’m on my way.
It took Krista approximately seven minutes to arrive at Zoe’s. Zoe had just finished turning on the floor lamps in the living room and closing the curtains, helping to make her apartment feel calm, cozy, and the cocoon she needed it to be. “I nicked a bottle of wine from the bar,” Krista said, holding up the white wine. “Something about your text told me we’d need it.”
Zoe managed the smallest smile. “You’re the best.”
“Obviously.” Krista kicked off her heels, heading straight for the kitchen. She moved around like it was her own, uncorking the bottle, fishing out two mismatched glasses, and pouring generous servings that were at least half the bottle. She even crouched to top off Whiskers’s bowl with kibble, the cat winding around her ankles with a happy purr.
A minute later she plopped down on the couch beside Zoe, handing her a glass. Zoe was cocooned in a mountain of throw pillows and a thick blanket, but no amount of nesting dulled the ache in her chest.
“Alright,” Krista said, clinking their glasses. “Spill.”
Zoe took a shaky breath and almost started crying right then and there. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t be like this. It’s stupid, really.” She tried to laugh at herself.
Krista arched a brow. “Stupid is drinking boxed wine in a bathtub. Like I did the other day. This?” She gestured to Zoe’s wrecked expression. “This is serious. So tell me—what happened? Did you guys break up? Because you looked insanely happy at the wedding.”
Zoe laughed, the sound brittle. “You have to be dating to break up.”
Krista blinked. “Wait. What?”
Zoe stared into her glass, the wine trembling with the shake of her hands. “It’s all fake,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “The dating part. That was the deal from thestart. We were trying to help my mom out because she gambled on us being Couple of the Year.”
Krista leaned back, lips pressing into a thin line. “Okay…”
Zoe swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep going. “But my feelings—” She broke off, pressing her fist to her mouth as if she could shove the words back down. Her throat burned as she whispered, “My feelings aren’t fake. Not even close.”
Krista’s expression eased, but she didn’t interrupt.
Zoe shook her head, fighting the tears threatening to spill. “Jackson’s into me too, but he’s scared. He’s not ready for a relationship; he’s got all this trauma. Still, for a minute there, I thought…I thought maybe he was ready to face his fears, but then—” Her voice cracked. Zoe fought to control her emotions. She shook her head. “He pushed me away again.”
Krista reached for her hand, but Zoe kept her eyes fixed on the floor, ashamed of the hot tears sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t want her best friend to see her broken like this, but she couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop hurting.
“First of all, Jackson is an idiot.”
Zoe smiled. “Not gonna argue with you there. And I know that you tried to warn me…”
