"You've been 'just trying to help’ for years," Sloane countered, warming to her topic. "You said it yourself - managing everyone's lives but your own. But you're can’t keep channeling all that talent into making sure everyone else's world runs smoothly, if your own is falling apart.”
The bluntness of her assessment drew an intake of breath from Megan and this time Jess turned fully back from the window, eyes wide with surprise.
"That's not … fair," Nadine began, but the protest lacked conviction. She glanced around the room, looking for allies, but found only sympathy.
"It's completely fair," Sloane continued. "You're obviously brilliant at what you do. But when was the last time you did something just for yourself,Nadine? Not for your husband, or the kids, or Jess's wedding - just for you?"
The maid of honor stared back at her, mouth slightly open, clearly struggling to formulate an answer. "I... I don't know," she admitted finally, her voice small in the quiet room.
"That's what I thought." Sloane's gaze then moved from Nadine to Megan, who shrank slightly in her chair as she recognized herself as the next target. "And speaking of self-sacrifice ..."
"Please," Megan warned. "Don't."
But Sloane, having already broken the seal on unspoken truths, showed no signs of stopping. "You didn't 'dump' Julian back then, did you?" she stated, her voice loud enough to carry to their group. "You stepped back because you thought Jess was the better choice for him. You made way - like you always do, apparently."
Megan's face flushed a deep crimson, humiliation washing over her features as years of careful self-erasure were suddenly exposed to the harsh light of public scrutiny.
Her eyes darted to Julian, then away, unable to bear his - or Jess’s - reaction.
"That's not … it wasn't like that," she stammered, poise abandoned in the face of such direct confrontation.
"No?" Sloane challenged gently. "Then maybe tell us what it was like."
The invitation hung in the air, weighted with consequence and for a moment, it seemed Megan might refuse, retreat behind the careful neutrality she'd maintained for years. But something in Sloane's steady gaze, or the events of the past few days, seemed to have weakened her defenses.
"I saw how he looked at Jess,” she mumbled softy, her eyes finding Jess’s across the room. "That night at at my apartment. Julian couldn't take his eyes off her. It was like... like watching someone discover a new continent.” Now that Megan had begun speaking, the truth seemed to pour from her in a flood she couldn't control. "We'd only been on a few dates. It wasn't serious yet. And the way he looked at her… I'd never had him or anyone look at me like that." Megan’s voice caught slightly. "It felt wrong to stand in the way of something that was so inevitable."
Julian straightened in his chair, the fog of alcohol lifting as he processed her words. "But you told me it just fun,” he shot back, confusion evident in his tone. "That we were incompatible.”
“Kind of easier to say than 'I know you've falling for my best friend,'" she replied with an uncomfortable chuckle, unable to meet his gaze.
Julian stared at her, then at Jess, clearly struggling to reconcile this new information with his understanding of their shared history. "But I didn't... I mean, I thought..."
"You thought what you were meant to think," Sloane interjected. "That's the thing about Megan - seems she's so good at managing other people's emotions that they don’t notice the cost to her." She turned back to Megan. "You've spentyourlife helping others identify and express their feelings, but when it comes to your own? You'd rather disappear than take up space."
Much like Nadine, the raw honesty of the assessment left Megan exposed. "I was doing the right thing," she whispered.
"For whom though?" Sloane pressed gently.
By the window, Jess remained still, absorbing the implications of what she'd just heard. Across the room, her eyes met Megan's and the silent exchange contained volumes: acknowledgment, forgiveness, perhaps even gratitude for truths finally spoken.
Jess fingers found a loose button on her dark shirt, worrying it absently. The button hung by a single thread, neither attached nor free, much like her own suspended state. In her mind, she couldn't help but draw the parallel to her unfinished wedding dress - the tear along the seam that poor Ellen never had the chance to mend.
"Jess?" Julian's voice, steadier now, broke through her thoughts. He had quietly appeared alongside her, his face a study in conflicted emotions. "Are you okay?"
The simple question struck her as absurdly inadequate given the circumstances, yet also touchingly sincere. Julian - brilliant, successful, kind Julian - truly wanted to know if she was all right, even as his own world tilted on its axis.
"I'm actually not sure," she answered honestly. "I think... I think I'm realizing some things."
His eyes were half-glazed. "About us?"
She nodded. “Maybe maybe we’ve both been running so fast toward a future we thought we wanted, that we never stopped to check if was a true fit.” The words resonated through her, bringing with it not sadness but a strange, buoyant relief. It was as if she'd been carrying a weight she hadn't fully recognized until it was set down.
He stepped back slightly. “What are you talking about? All that stuff with Megan … it’s nothing,” but Jess could see the truth in his eyes.
She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “You deserve someone who chooses you first," she said, her gaze flickeringmeaningfully toward her friend and back again. "Not as a compromise."
The words hung in the air between them. Julian just held her gaze for a long moment but didn’t acknowledge what she’d just said. "I … should probably get some sleep," he yawned. "It's been a helluva week."
