But I wasn’t just worried. I was agonized. Itwasmy fault. Sebastian was right to be mad at me. His brother was going to be taken away from him, and it was all my fault.
Jail time or not, I needed to let Sebastian know what was happening. But he wouldn’t answer the phone, and I felt like I shouldn’t give him the bad news over a text. That was too much. That felt like a bad decision.
It was a weekday, though, and I needed to go back to Manhattan. We did have other brides besides Tatiana and Meg that we were responsible for, and we had an upcoming couples shower to plan for one new bride.
But I didn’t want to leave. Everything in me yearned to show up at Sebastian’s house and crawl in through the window. However, Rational Me recognized that that would be a terrible idea. I needed to tell him the truth, though.
“The court case isn’t going to happen for weeks,” I said to myself as Baxter and I waited in the train station. “Once he calms down, I’ll schedule a meeting with him, explain everything, and give him a plan for how to fix it and how I’m going to tell the court that he is totally the best person to have custody of Alfie.”
I still felt antsy, sitting on the train on the way back to Manhattan. I should never have become involved with Tatiana, but I had wanted to keep my courtyard. I had worked so hard on it. It was one of the few things that was fully mine.
“Four pretzels, please, with extra cheese sauce,” I ordered at the pretzel stall when Baxter and I were back home.
“Rough night?” Ahmed asked.
“You have no idea.”
I wolfed down my pretzels, but I still felt sick about Sebastian, so I ordered a pepperoni pizza and garlic bread with marinara dipping sauce from the local pizza joint.
I ate until I was stuffed then tried to text Sebastian again.
Amy:Can you please just call me? I really need to talk to you.
No answer.
“I wish I had some cake,” I said to the cracked ceiling as I drifted off into a food coma.
* * *
My phone rang,waking me up the next morning.
“Sebastian?” I said hopefully.
“Nope,” Elsie said. “Where are you? I thought you were coming back from Harrogate yesterday.”
I checked the clock on my phone. I had missed the meeting. “I’m coming. I’ll be there.”
Even if it was just an internal meeting, I took a quick shower to wash the pizza sauce and grease off my face and chin. The water was freezing, and I cursed the landlord and my stupid apartment as I rinsed off.
We had a high-end client meeting later that day, so I swiped on some makeup and put on a nice outfit. The timing was perfect because I hadn’t done laundry in weeks, and my nice outfit was the only clean thing I owned.
“Let’s go, Baxter,” I told the pony, rousing him from his nap in the sunshine.
We took an Uber because I was wearing my nice shoes, and I was late, and I sucked at walking more than a few steps in heels.
I fretted about Sebastian on the way into the office. Maybe Elsie had some lawyer friends from her time as an accountant she could point me to. Not that I had any money to pay anyone.
“I need all the hash browns,” I announced when I walked off the elevator.
However, a greasy-looking young man stood in the middle of the office instead of the breakfast buffet I needed after a stressful morning.
“Is this a bridal appointment?” I asked, confused.
“I’m from Harrington Thurlow,” the guy said, pulling a sheaf of papers out of his briefcase. “I have been trying to reach you since yesterday. The custody hearing for Alfred Rawlings is starting today, and as a witness, you are required to be in court.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Actually,” I said, spinning my hands, “I can’t do that because I’m booked up today for meetings, so maybe another time.”
