‘It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me,’ Cole reassured, his voice softer than I’d ever heard before.
I shook my head.
‘I need you to know where it comes from,’ I murmured, roughly wiping my face as tears escaped. ‘It’s not about you or whether I like you enough for Lottie, okay? That’s not even a question. I just . . . I guess I just associate getting married with . . . hell.’
They were both silent for a moment as I fought to get it together.
‘Are you sure you want to come to Jay’s wedding?’ Jesse asked, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘I don’t want it to bring anything up, or—’
Cole moved in and gave me a brief hug in return.
‘I’ll give you guys a minute.’
Hands on my hips, I stared down at my boots and wiped my eyes again as the quiet returned.
‘I’m so fucking sorry,’ Jesse said, his hand flinching as though he wanted to reach out, but stopping himself. ‘That must be . . .’
‘. . . A head-fuck?’ I finished with a bitter smile. ‘Yeah. It is. Even ten years later.’
‘Listen, we don’t have to go,’ he said, studying my face carefully. ‘Jay and Cole would understand. We could just hang out, just the two of us.’
My heart lurched at the way he was so ready to support me at his own expense. The thought of time alone with him, a whole day ofus. I wanted it so badly, wanted him so much that the feeling became painful. My gut twisted with it.
‘No, it’s okay,’ I said, backing up. ‘It’ll be good for me or something. Don’t worry.’
His eyes burned into mine as I turned, making myself walk away. One step after another until my body was on autopilot, knowing full well he was still watching; that one stumble would have him running to me to pick up the pieces.
So I kept going, hoping that I loved him enough to not stop.
‘Hes?’
Lottie’s head emerged around my door, make-up and hair already done. The wedding wasn’t for another few hours, but Cole’s best man duties had already begun. He was swinging by to pick us up in less than an hour.
‘Want a coffee? Irish coffee?’ she offered as I turned to her, finishing my make-up in the mirror. ‘Valium?’
I grimaced, waiting as she strode across the room and grabbed me into a hug.
‘What’s this for?’ I asked gruffly, squeezing her back. ‘You look fucking gorgeous, by the way.’
‘Because I know how hard weddings are for you,’ she whispered into my neck, pulling back gently so as not to disturb the pinned curls all over my head.
‘Aversion therapy,’ I shrugged.
‘And – you look . . . stunning,’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen this look before?’
I glanced back at the mirror, noting how different I looked without my darker, smudged eyes, the complete coverage I normally favoured with my foundation. This time I’d kept it light, letting my tan and freckles through, opting for light, clean make-up – baby pink blush, soft highlighter. Long half-lashes and eyeliner only, a raspberry pink lip stain.
The truth was, I’d started applying my usual look, feeling more and more fake as I went. It felt so obviously like a mask, an attempt to be funny, ballsy, sweary Hestia, that I’d washed it all off. This version of me . . . I didn’t know her. But somehow, that matched my insides.
‘Thanks . . . I’m trying it out,’ I replied, struggling to keep my voice normal. Behave normally. ‘Besides, my dress is doinga lotof the talking.’
She chuckled.
‘Did you forewarn Jesse?’
I tried to smile back, but my stomach turned over at the thought of it. I’d ordered the dress a while ago, just after the cookout, when my head, heart . . . everything felt different.
Lottie’s eyes narrowed, finally reaching out a hand and pulling me over to the edge of the bed to sit.
