“And she went AWOL in Tuscany for those two days.”
“We found her in a literal castle.”
“Yeah, but at least then, she kept having that guy’s butler deliver those very official handwritten notes to our hostel.”
We laugh, and I make a mental note to reference some of these classic Sybil moments in my maid-of-honor speech—the one I’ve still avoided spending any time thinking about, though I guess now I have a good reason to be putting it off.Step one, locate bride. Step two, draft speech.Besides, how could I possibly attempt to encapsulate my wonderful, weird, completely unique best friend in a two-minute toast? Yes, she’s the life of the party, everyone knows that. But she’s so much more than that. And her Technicolor-rainbow spirit has darker shades too.
The thought sobers me. “I know Sybs is always disappearing and falling into adventures. But then there are other times… like graduation night—”
“What happened on graduation night?” Nikki asks.
“She never showed up at the after-party. Willow and I assumed she was probably at some better, cooler party. Maybealready hanging with a crew of college kids. But we found her parked down by the creek, sobbing in her car.” My heart sinks, remembering holding Sybil as she cried, her voice gasping out through her tears—Everything’s ending, Emma.
Nikki nods. “There were a couple moments like that at USC too.” We walk a bit in silence before Nikki turns the conversation away from Sybil. “So seriously, what’s going on with you and BOAT Man? Y’all have clearly passed the ‘I want to tear your head off’ stage of your relationship, and are actively in the ‘I want to tear your clothes off’ stage.” She chuckles, and even if it’s at my expense, it’s nice to hear Nikki laughing again.
“We’ve just had an okay day together, and we had a nice dinner. And then… we had a pretty fantastic elevator ride,” I say, fighting to keep a silly grin from taking over my entire face. “He told me I should start my own design firm.” I don’t know why that detail has risen to the top, given everything that’s happened tonight, but for some reason it feels important. I remember the absolute confidence in Finn’s voice as he encouraged me to take the leap and strike out on my own.
“Well, obviously, Em.”
“What do you mean ‘obviously’?”
“Emma, you’re so good at what you do. I don’t know why you’re still at that place that works you to the bone—for definitely not enough money—and doesn’t appreciate you.”
“Well, maybe it’s something to think about,” I reply, with no real intention of doing any such thing.
It’s nice to dream big and all, but some of us need to live in reality and make pragmatic decisions. My little mental escape in Vegas has been fun, but it’s not real life.
As if on cue, a woman in a neon-magenta feather headdress and not much else walks by.
“Sybil’s probably in the penthouse of some high roller right now hand-feeding Wagyu beef to his pet tiger,” Nikki says.
“Oh no, she’d never get with someone with a pet tiger.”
“True. Maybe a capuchin monkey or something.”
“I can see her being okay with that. As long as the monkey is well taken care of.”
“Of course.” We both laugh, but I do wonder—wouldSybil cheat on Jamie on their wedding weekend? I’d like to think she would never go through with anything that extreme. Freak out with uncertainty? Sure. Flirt with some hot strangers? Probably. But I hope she wouldn’t go so far as to ruin what she and Jamie have—or break his heart. I’d like to think that Sybil has moved on from her truly wild ways, because I’d like to thinkI’vechanged from the person I used to be, back when I was in my early twenties and still figuring out how to be a real adult. But then again, I know what it’s like to get swept up in the heat of the moment. To let passion cloud your better judgment. To end up doing something you never thought you’d do—even cheat.
Finn texts me that they’re finishing up at the fight, so we head over to the arena where the fight took place.
“Time to face the music with Jamie. I guess.”
Nikki nods but doesn’t say anything. She’s not looking forward to disappointing Jamie any more than I am.
I can tell the exact moment Jamie realizes that Sybil’s not with us. His face drops even as we approach from across the crowded concourse in front of the arena. Finn gives me a look, silently communicating our agreement from an hour earlier, and I know I have to tell Jamie—at least part of—the truth.
“Hey, how was the fight?” Nikki starts.
“It was good,” Jamie says. Finn, meanwhile, is looking nauseated enough that I can tell he barely hung in there.
I almost want to laugh and tease him about it, but I clasp my hands together in front of me, all business. Time to rip off the Band-Aid. “Wait—before you tell us about it, we have to tell you something.”
“Okay,” Jamie says hesitatingly, as if he knows exactly what’s coming. His shoulders sag in his perfectly tailored suit. His thick brows come together in a frown that’s more concerned than angry. But his warm brown eyes project a steady sense of resolve. Like he’s bracing himself for whatever’s coming, but he intends to weather it.
Suddenly, I’m struck by a memory. It was a week after Sybil and Jamie got engaged, and she and I were both back in Dallas for the holidays. The day after Christmas, the two of us holed up in her childhood bedroom, working ourselves into a sugar coma from gingerbread cookies and spiked eggnog, giggling like teenagers. Then, finally, I lobbed the question I’d been wondering about since I got Sybil’s elated FaceTime call telling me the news. “So, you really think he’s the one?”
It was a reasonable question, I felt. Sybil had been proposed to twice before, and neither engagement had panned out.
