"We did long distance for a while. I lived in Charlotte up until about two months ago, but now we live together and it’s everything." Her cheeks a soft shade of pink as she gushes about the life she’s created for herself.
"Are you engaged?" I ask, feeling the weight of the velvet box in my hand.
"Not yet. Soon, I hope. Anyway, I’m going to find him to dance with me before my feet swell up. Good luck avoiding confrontation," she says, drying her hands on a paper towel, and I watch as the door swings shut behind her.
Am I making a mistake?
Should I give the ring back?
Snap out of it, Cassandra.
In my ear, I can hear Janelle’s voice telling me it’s go time.
It’s now or never.
Megan and Elliot are dancing toGet Low, with the rest of the wedding following suit, and I spot Austin alone at the bar.
It’s time to make my move.
Head down, I speed walk as discreetly as possible, making my way to the bridal table where Austin’s suit jacket hangs over the back of his chair. Slipping the black box into the pocket on the inside, I sigh with relief, knowing I’ve successfully achieved what I set out to do.
I attempt to walk away, but I don’t quite make it when I feel the familiar warmth of his hand on my shoulder.
"Cass?" His word slurs, and my knees buckle. I haven’t seen him since the night before I found the stupid note on our countertop. He looks different. Tired, maybe, but just as handsome as ever.
His light brown hair is longer than usual; it makes him look kind of rugged, but it suits him.
His blue eyes are red rimmed, no doubt from his alcohol consumption, but he seems happy.
And his lips.
God, those perfect, kissable lips.
"Austin. Hi." I clear my throat. "I was just, uh, returning something," I say quickly, desperately searching the room for my savior in the shape of Janelle, but she’s nowhere to be seen.
"Returning what?" he questions, but before I can answer, I see a hand around his waist.
"Baby, come and dance with me. My feet are starting to hurt, and I want to dance with my baby daddy while I still can," a soft voice says, and my ex-fiancè’s body stiffens.
All the blood draining from his face.
What?
"Uh, Cass. This is Alison. My…girlfriend. Alison, this is—" He struggles to find the right word to describe me and our connection, so I do it for him.
"The wedding planner," I say.
She’s none the wiser.
Alison, the pregnant redhead from the bathroom, who told me all about her incredible boyfriend, who she’d been with for the lastthree fucking years?
"Oh, hi! We met in the toilets just now. Still trying to avoid your ex-boyfriend?" She smiles, wiggling her brows at me, wrapping herself in Austin’s arms, oblivious to the tension thick in the air.
"Something like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a plane to catch." The words sprint through the gates of my mouth before I can stop them, and I rush toward the double doors to the foyer of the venue.
I’m getting the hell out of here.
Running down the hallway, I burst through my office door, collecting my purse from my office. I message Janelle to tell her I’ve left while I hurry back to my car.
