Harper
The next morning, I do the walk of shame. Never in a million years did I think I would say that. Of course, I don’t think it counts as the actual walk of shame since we didn’t have sex last night. Well, not at his house, anyway. I guess I just feel ashamed about everything right now, and I need to be alone.
I slip out of bed around 8:00 am, feeling like a zombie. I grab one of Asher’s hoodies to wear while I wait for the Uber to come get me. I feel bad leaving this way. I feel worse standing on the curb in a nice neighborhood in oversized sweats and high heels. I’m still gonna refer to this as a walk of shame.
Once I get home, I check my phone. I wasn’t going to just up and leave with no explanation, so I sent Ash a text letting him know that I needed to be at home. He hasn’t read it yet, which tells me he’s still asleep. That gives me a little peace. What doesn’t give me peace is theleft on readmessage I sent to Jaylen asking if we could please talk?
I head to the shower, hoping the hot water will ease the pain. It feels amazing on my achy, cold bones, but unfortunately, it doesn’t do much for my heart. I don’t know if anything will.
Afterwards, I throw on some PJs and crawl into bed with no intention of leaving anytime soon. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work out because about two hours into a nap, there’s a very insistent knocking on my door, followed by a muffled voice.
“Harper? Harper, open up!”
It’s Darlene.
I drag myself out of bed, anxiety settling into the pit of my stomach like battery acid, and I make my way to the door. When I open it, the smile falls off her face and hits the icy cement of my porch.
“Jesus Christ, you look like hell,” she blurts out.
“Thanks. I feel like hell,” I mutter, opening the door and letting her inside.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning. I came to the speakeasy last night right after my date I told you about. Which, by the way, I really need to tell you all about because men in their thirties be fuckin’ trippin’! Everyone said you had left. You and Ash, and Jaylen.”
“Yeah, we left early,” I say, walking over to the couch and crawling under a blanket with my knees against my chest.
Darlene sits down in front of me, her eyes wide and curious. “Well. Are you going to tell me what happened? Because something obviously happened,” she says.
“Daniel was there,” I say after sighing.
“Why was that asshole there? What did he do?” she asks.
“He made a speech,” I say monotonously.
“A speech?” she asks.
“Well, it was more of a toast…to the newlyweds.”
Darlene pulls back, surprised. Then her brows knit together in confusion. “Wait. He thinks you’re actually married?” she asks.
“I don’t know, but that’s not the problem.”
“Okay?”
“The problem,” I pause, not really in the mood to relive it, but also needing my best friend’s support. “The problem was that he also announced to the room that Ash and I are sleeping together.”
“Shit. Oh.Shit. I’m assuming Jaylen didn’t know yet,” she deduces.
“Yep. We were planning to talk to him. Or I was, anyway, after the opening. But the good news revealed itself a little early.”
“Damn,” she says, flopping back onto the couch with me. “I take it that it didn’t go over well.”
“You could say that,” I say.
“Alright, well, call me intuitive, but when you ghosted me, I had this gut feeling that you were one of two things. Hungover from the party or upset about something. So, I brought provisions.”
“What kind of provisions?” I ask, perking up a notch.
Darlene gets off the couch, goes to the kitchen, and grabs a bag I hadn’t even noticed when she came in. “I have potato chips, the kettle kind, chocolate chip cookies, party mix, wine, and ice cream. Pick your poison.”
