“It’s gonna be okay, Maisie. I can get sorbet and we can talk about how awful he is.”
Another tear escapes and I wipe it away. He’s mentioned the one thing I also really want.
“Good idea,” I say. “Do you know what kind to get?”
“Lemon.” He laughs. “What kind of question is that? Do you have any in your freezer?”I shake my head.“Then we’ll go get some and then start shit talking.”
“You expect me to go out like this?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to be alone?”
I don’t. Both of us know it.
But the way he knows me makes me want to cry all over again. Deep down, I know that between him and Rob, Nate is the one who would know both the dessert that I need and that I don’t want to be alone.
And that thought is humbling.
chapter three
The day of my wedding,my parents knock on my door. I’m lying on my couch in a tear-stained hoodie with my hair in a two-day-old bun. Ineverlet myself get like this, but the doom of my engagement is good enough reason to sit around and be miserable for a bit.
Everything is ruined. I might as well join the party.
Slowly, I roll myself off of the spot on the couch that I’m sure has an imprint of my ass by now and shuffle to the door.
“Hi, sweetie,” Mom says. “How are you feeling?”
Dad is behind her, his thick mustache blocking his mouth. It’s amazing how he can look the same as the day I announced my engagement as he does today, when there’s definitivelynota wedding happening.
Still, even his eyes widen at the sight of me.
That doesn’t mean anything good.
“Awful,” I say.
“I brought you some food.” She holds up a tray. “And I wanted to see you. Is Nate here? I made enough for him too.”
Nate has crashed on my couch the last two nights. He was herewhen I cried and watched the video over and over. Now, he’s handling the logistics of ending the wedding.
I don’t deserve this man.
“No, he’s out.”
“Darn.”
“I’ll give it to him later,” I say as I take the tray. “Thank you.”
“What did he think about all of this?” Dad asks.
I think back to Nate’s carefully guarded nature. I know he’s angry, but he doesn’t let it show. Still, I see his tense shoulders and gritted teeth as I’ve cried.
“He’s supportive, like always.”
Dad hums and says nothing else. That’s pretty typical for him.
“We are too,” Mom says softly. “That video was no way a future husband should talk about a partner.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about the money you guys spent on the honeymoon.”
