“I’m not going anywhere, Poppy. At least not today. But when I get married next week, consider this the end…”
“The end of what?”
“The end of everything.”
I should’ve believed her. Because what happened next changed everything…
Amber looks sick as she ascends the steps of the chapel, pausing on the second step, her face looking a little green. “This is a bad idea.”
“Are you having second thoughts?” My voice wavers a bit, knowing my best friend is stuck in deep inner purgatory right now.
“A million. Do you think I’m making a mistake?”
Why does she have to ask me this?
Mallory gives me an encouraging look, both of us on the same wavelength.
“Only you can answer that, Amber.”
Her phone rings, and she looks at the screen like she’s staring at a ghost.
“Hey, Mom.”
My stomach twists for her.
“Yeah, are you going to make it?”
Tears form in Amber’s eyes as she listens to her mother’s bullshit answer.
“Please don’t try to make excuses, Mom. You’re absent like always, and that’s okay, I guess.”
Mallory and I share a look. Another long pause happens while she listens to her mother blather on.
“A better mom would’ve waited to enter rehab until after the wedding.”
More uncomfortable silence falls between them.
“So, I call you out on your shit and you go silent on me? Figures.”
Amber looks up at me for a few seconds before quickly glancing away. She doesn’t like people to see her cry. It’s something I’ve noticed over the years.
“No, Mom, what’s not fair is my mother missing my wedding because of self-reflection. Even trying to better yourself, you’re still selfish.”
I see Mallory wince at the same time I do. That one was vicious.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m just overwhelmed right now. I was really hoping you’d be here for me today since—”
She stalls on her words, but I know she’s referring to her dad’s absence. Today is going to be so hard for her, especially now that her mother won’t be here for her either. I can’t even imagine the pain she’s going through.
Amber clenches her phone, her pain turning to anger. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a lot to talk about, since you’re missing your only daughter’s wedding today.”
Her mother says something, and Amber immediately cuts her off, “Goodbye, Mother.”
When she hangs up the phone, her entire body sags, almost as if she’s contemplating giving up on the wedding altogether.
My arms wrap around her before she can protest, removing the tears from her face. “Why don’t you go get some air, Amber? You look like you need to clear your head.”
She nods weakly.
