Page 30 of Wedding or Not

He doesn’t. He keeps holding me, and neither of us say a word for several minutes.

“Thank you,” I say at last. “Sorry about the dramatics.”

“Those are the least dramatic dramatics I’ve ever witnessed.”

I huff in amusement at his dry tone, the laughter immediately making me feel better and more like myself.

I still don’t want to, but I make myself pull away and move back to my own side of the bed. “Okay. I’m really okay now.”

“Good.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, dropping my eyes. “For helping.”

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but you’ve always been tougher than anyone else—including you—realizes.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do.”

We smile at each other.

I’m not sure what else we might have said or done, but Natalie calls up to the loft just then. “How’s the headache? Is Wes making it worse?”

“No. It’s better now.”

“Good. Grace just texted and said she’s made baked pasta if we want to go over there to eat with them. Wes is invited too.”

Wes sits up, his expression brightening.

I laugh and sit up too. “Okay. We’re coming down.”

CHAPTER 9

Two weeks later, just before nine on Monday morning, I’m sitting at our favorite corner table at Rooster’s with Natalie and a chai latte.

Despite my best efforts and repeated internal pep talks to myself, I’m feeling kind of droopy.

It’s hard not to be let down after such a rush of excitement declines.

Natalie has been doing searches on her phone, and I fight for patience as I watch. I’ve been holding on to my resolve not to search myself on social media and only look at posts and reels Natalie designates as safe.

A couple of times in the past weeks, I’ve given in to the impulse to look, but every time leads to such a sickening sense of exposure that I have no desire to repeat it.

So I leave the online work to Natalie and exist in a little bubble where no one is talking about me.

“Anything?” I ask when my patience has reached its end point.

Stew is standing against a wall nearby, keeping his eyes on the customers and any newcomers. He’s been with me for two weeks now, and he’s usually unobtrusive enough to fade into the background.

Natalie shakes her head, her eyes still focused on her phone and her lips downturned. “A few new things, but they’re not getting much attention.”

“I guess that makes sense”—I slouch against the back of my chair, sipping my latte—“since the inquiries and reservations have decreased so much. We always knew people would move on pretty quick.”

“Yeah.” Natalie sets down her phone. “I was hoping to sustain the interest for at least another month, but we’ve still done really good. We’re booked out all through next year with weddings. Even with the cancelations coming in, our wait list is long enough to fill in the gaps. And it will be easier for you to not be forced to keep pretending with Wes.”

When I don’t answer, she prompts, “Right?”

“Right. It hasn’t been that bad with Wes. But feeling like everyone is watching me all the time is… exhausting. I’m not made for it.”