27.
Anders and I aren’t exactly a couple, so I’m trying not to get prematurely girlfriend-crazy at him for being unreachable all day. He’s been gone for three days already. The first day, we talked several times. The second, I was busy with Valerie and Taina for the whole psychic thing. And today, he’s supposed to be flying back here to make it in time for the Jack and Jill party tonight.
Maybe I’m more sensitive now because Taina hasn’t answered a single one of my calls and texts, and it would be nice to speak to another human being rather than sit in silence.
He said he was heading for the airport at seven in the morning, which was three hours ago, and he still hasn’t called me like he said he would. I need to update him on my plans for Valerie.
Sora walks up to me and lays his face on my lap.
“You want to go outside, cutie?”
He wags his tail, so I take him out back to run around. As he lays out, displaying his stomach to the sun, I sit on the rocking chair. My screen lights up. I answer before the first ring finishes.
“Anders,” I say into the phone before I hear the chaos of the early morning airport in the background.
“Hey, Lucinda,” he says, warmth with a hint of aggravation clipped at
the edge.
“TSA beat you down?”
He snorts. “It’s insane here. A thunderstorm delayed most flights, including mine.”
Extra nerves begin to pinch my insides. “Will you make it in time for the party?”
“I’m not sure,” he answers. “Even if they get us on the plane, it’s pretty bad out there.”
I pause. “They won’t fly unless it’s safe to do so.”
A longer, more interesting pause. “Right.”
I sit up. “Anders, are you afraid of flying?”
“I don’t like your tone.”
I can’t hold back my laugh. “Aw, Anders, I didn’t know.”
“Let the record state I have made no such confession.”
“There’s nothing to be scared of,” I assure him. “Turbulence is like you’re in Jell-O. Just a fun little ride.”
“I’ve seen that video, and it brought me no comfort.”
“So, you admit you’re scared.”
He sighs. “You know, my great-great-grandfather died in a plane crash.
I look just like him. Could be him reincarnated. Wouldn’t want to tempt
fate.”
“Really?”
“No,” Anders admits, and I laugh. “But I don’t want you to think I’m some coward.”
“Coward, no,” I tease. “Scaredy-cat, on the other hand . . .”
“Anyway,” he says, “how is my dog?”
My dog. Already attached enough to claim Sora as his own. I knew
he’d be a good owner.
“Good. Currently sunbathing.”
“And how’s my girl?”
My heart stutters. “Good. Watching your dog sunbathing, waiting for you.”
“I guess I’d better get on the plane if I can.”
Though his words are laced with warmth and sincerity, there’s still a hint of edge to them. If he’s stressed about even the thought of flying, I won’t add to it by telling him what I have planned. If he doesn’t make it, he’ll be freaking out about missing it. If he does, he’ll be trying to calm his ass down on the plane.
I’ll just check his flight info. We still have plenty of time for him to make it; the flight is just under three hours. Plenty of time before the party.
Once he touches down, I’ll tell him in person—less stress for the anxious man.
“I hope so.” I inspect my nails. “I’m tan, my skin is glowing, and I’ve never been prettier. It would be a waste if you didn’t get to see me in all my glory.” Then, feeling a little cocky and wanting to ease some of Anders’s anxiety, I add, “In more ways than one.”
“Lucinda,” he calls my name softly.
“I don’t want to be a cliché ‘guess what I’m wearing tonight,’ so I’ll just tell you: With how tight my dress is, nothing at all underneath it.”
Anders sucks in a breath. “Need I remind you I’m in a very public place?”
“Just thought I’d remind you that I miss you,” I say. “Especially at night.”
“Lucinda.” This time, my name is a warning.
“But I’ve made do,” I add, “in your clothes, in your bed, thinking about you while I touch myself.”
There’s a rustle of movement, then, “Jesus Christ, Lucinda.”
“Talking about it is making me needy,” I go on. “Maybe I’ll head back to your room now.”
“I’m honest to God about to grab a plane and pilot it myself,” Anders says, and I cackle.
“Oh,” I say mid-laugh, “I’ll be late if I don’t leave soon. I should go now.”
“You are a menace,” he says, exasperated.
I end the call on a chuckle and a bundle of satisfaction in the pit of my stomach.
Time to focus—wedding ruining D-Day is here. The Hail Mary.
It’s time to put the nail in the coffin.
It’s weird being without Anders as I enter Bethany’s home. I’ve grown used to the comfort of his presence, his body, and the feel of his arm wrapped around my waist, the ease with which we slip our fingers through each other’s.
Still, I keep my chin up as I move through people, dressed in all white as Valerie requested to match with the white balloons, white centerpieces, white gift bags; all white for the bride, who is standing by Olive, speaking with her fingers pinching her nose.
As I get closer, I spot the orange stain on the side of Valerie’s dress, matching the color of the half-empty glass Olive holds. I hold in a laugh as I approach, just as Bethany appears and starts blotting the stain.
“I told you to stay in your room and read your book,” Bethany says while rubbing the stain furiously. “Nothing at this party is interesting enough for a kid to join.”
“I finished my book already.” Olive crosses her arms against her Iron Man T-shirt. “I’m bored, and you’re the one who doesn’t allow TVs in bedrooms.”
Valerie gestures to the living room occupied by friends and family, drinking, chatting, and laughing. “Did you really think you could watch a show right now?”
I join them, hand in my tote bag. “I have stain remover,” I say, holding it out to Bethany. “I knew an all-white party was a risk.”
“Thank you.” Bethany snatches it.
Olive grips the side of my dress. “The new Marvel show is out, and I need to watch before I see any spoilers.”
I smile and suggest, “Try watching it on your iPad?”
Valerie groans. “The little brat dropped it down the stairs today. The entire screen is cracked.”
I scan the room. “Where’s John?” Clearly Valerie is stressed and the groom-to-be is nowhere to be found.
“Late,” she answers, anger coating the word, “and I’m already agitated enough about that as it is. And half my bridal party still hasn’t arrived. The caterers sent the wrong order. The florist sent lilies instead of daisies, and I’m about to lose my goddamn mind.”
I keep my face as unbiased as possible, ignoring the guilt flooding me since Taina and I spent hours meddling, calling vendors, giving wrong times, and changing orders. The bridesmaids, though—they suck all on their own.
This on-edge Valerie is only going to get worse, so I pull out my phone. “Use mine.” I hand it to Olive. “Why don’t you head to your room?”
She snatches it from me. “You’re the best,” she says as she runs off.
“Stain’s out,” Bethany says. “Let’s get you under a blow dryer.”
“I’ll be nicer later,” Valerie promises as Bethany, who probably has dealt with her wrath all day as things went wrong, pushes her along. I wave and smile, help myself to a glass of wine, then remember I drove here and replace it with a bottle of water.
My gaze keeps lingering on the front door. Nick said he would come.
He lives just a few hours away, but what if he got cold feet? It was easy to guess Valerie still had lingering feelings for him.
But what if Nick isn’t as stuck on Valerie as she him? What’s my next step? Do I just crash the wedding? That’ll implicate me, taint me for the family forever, and won’t stop anything permanently. It’s not even a plan.
I could do an intervention—straight-up sit down with Valerie and tell her I know from experience how to tell when something isn’t going to work
out. Try to save her heart in an honest, plain way—but every time I try to pry too deep, she runs away.
It’s like the more Valerie’s family tells her something isn’t good for her, the more she wants it.
Maybe when John arrives, I can snatch his phone, have Taina hack into it, and find something incriminating. But I don’t think he’s cheating, unless we find messages that say he’s using her for money.
That’s more of a possibility.
Now I’m scanning the room for Nick and John.
My bag nearly falls off my shoulder, and I jerk back. Jennifer, her hair tied in a ponytail, is inches from my face. I grab my compact mirror from
her hand, put it back in my bag.
“Jennifer, good to see you, I think.”
She grins at me. “Hey, fellow bridesmaid.” She crosses her arms. “I’m glad you’re in. Some of the other girls are just nasty. I mean, they’re not even here yet. Would it kill them to be on time?”
I step an arm’s length away and rezip my bag. “It’s good she has you,”
I say hesitantly. “How did you two become friends?”
Her eyes widen with excitement, and she starts telling me the story of how they met in high school, when they both were dating someone on the football team, learned it was the same guy, and hatched a plan of revenge rather than hating each other.
I listen to her tell me the rest of the story animatedly, backing away whenever she closes the distance between us. I don’t have any valuables in my bag, but I still prefer my items to remain mine, thank you very much.
“Excuse me?” A deep voice joins us. “Have either of you seen Valerie?”
Jennifer’s eyes widen in recognition first. Then, since I’ve never met him in person, only saw photos from his Instagram that haven’t been updated in a decade, I recognize him, sort of. His blond hair has gray streaks throughout it, and a gathering of wrinkles pulls at the sides of his thin lips.
“Nick?” I can’t help but ask. Taina found his home address and info, but he’s supposed to be twenty-eight, and he doesn’t look old but he looks
older.
He blinks. “You know me?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Bethany shouts, storming over.
She grabs the bouquet of flowers in his hands, slaps his face with them, then tosses them to the side.
Valerie hesitates behind her aunt, her eyes wide, her body moving like weights hold down every muscle.
“Valerie—” He tries to approach, but Bethany blocks his path.
“What the hell are you doing in my house?”
He looks Bethany up and down in a way that makes me inch closer to
them. “I was invited.”
“The hell you were,” Bethany says.
Valerie finally moves at a normal speed, grabbing Bethany and pushing her to the side. Her expression is unreadable as she looks up at him.
“You brought flowers,” she points out. “I’m getting married soon. This is my Jack and Jill. What are you trying to do here?”
“I want you back,” he says. “I don’t care that you’re getting married. I don’t care about the age difference. I don’t care what your family thinks.
We should have never broken up.”
A hush settles in the room as every single person stops what they’re doing to watch.
I cannot help but insert myself. “How old are you?”
He glares at me, probably wondering who the hell I am and why I would ask that during his confession, then brings his attention back to Valerie.
Jennifer whispers beside me. “He’s pushing fifty.”
“Fifty.” I’ve lost all sense of control. “Isn’t he in his twenties?”
Jennifer frowns at me. “Do you mean his son? They have the same name. Are you confused?”
There’s a sudden pounding behind my eyes. A hammering of different bundles of information bouncing around in my head, trying to make sense of things, but the nails loosen as soon as they are pounded into a board.
Taina is so thorough when checking someone’s info; I’m not sure how she could have messed this up.
She must have seen the younger Nick and assumed that was Valerie’s ex. Not the man who could have been her father. Daddy issues or not, that age gap is something I’m not entirely sure I can get behind.
This is who Valerie keeps thinking about?
“Get out”—Valerie shoves him—“and don’t ever show your face here again.”
Olive, who apparently has a sixth sense for too-adult conversations, appears dragging something behind her. When she tries to pass Valerie, I see she’s holding a bat.
“Jesus.” I hurry over and snatch it before she takes one of us out.
“Yeah, you’re stronger,” Olive notes. “You hit him.”
I pry the bat from her and toss it away from anyone’s reach. “I think we all need to regroup here.”
Nick steps forward. “How are you going to invite me, then take it back now that I’m here?”
“I didn’t invite you,” Valerie snaps, looking back at Bethany with wide eyes. “I swear I didn’t!”
Nick snatches his phone from his pocket and holds out the screen, showing the messages Taina and I sent back and forth with him. My cheeks burn. This is not at all how I envisioned this happening. This was supposed to be a warm reunion between two age-appropriate adults who were meant
to find their way back to each other.
Valerie jerks back. “That is not me.”
“What?” he stammers, then he types into the phone and holds it to his ear.
I take a step back, ready to leave. I’m too slow to realize before it’s too late. Before Olive pulls my phone from her pocket, the screen lit up with
Nick’s phone call.
“Olive?” Valerie shouts.
“It’s not my phone.” She drops it from her hand like it shocked her.
I hurriedly bend for it, snatch it, and back away. All eyes are on me now. More importantly, Valerie’s are. I see it on her face, the rapid calculating, trying to understand what’s happening. Sorting through bits and pieces of information that don’t make sense, no matter where they’re placed.
“Lucy?” she says my name like a question, like it’s the only one she can think of at the moment.
I haven’t had a chance to figure out what to do, what to say, when this moment happened, if it happened, and I’d really hoped it wouldn’t. My first scenario is that I would simply go back to New York, and everyone I met here would be a memory. Then, after Anders, after our promises, I thought I
could have Valerie end the wedding herself, and there wouldn’t be any fingers pointing my way, and anger, or questions at all.
I was foolishly wrong.
Bethany manages a full question. “Why is Nick calling you?”
Olive looks up at me with wide eyes. “What’s going on, Lucy?”
I want to shrink myself into a size so insignificant that I can hide between one of the cracks of the floorboards. At least until I can formulate a response that will explain myself while managing to keep Anders’s family from hating me, while not throwing Anders under the bus, but also explaining my reasoning for all I’ve done.
But I just don’t have the time.
I’m so sorry is all I can think to say. I gesture to Nick. “He isn’t who I thought. This isn’t what I thought—what I wanted. I’m so sorry.”
“What is happening?” Bethany snaps. “Explain yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, and run as fast as possible to Anders’s car. I throw myself in, lock the door, and rush back to Anders before I can face the fire of questions I’m not equipped to defend myself from.
This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all.
When I pull up to the house, an unfamiliar car is parked in the driveway behind Taina’s rental. Not an Uber, since there’s nobody in the car. I’d think it’s Anders, but he wouldn’t get a rental just to get back home.
Then I get out, spot a man talking with his hands on the porch, and my
sister in front of the door, shouting.
My stomach free-falls.
I rush over and call out her name. Then he turns—Mathew. I stop so fast my knees can’t keep up, and I trip on the stairs. Pain ricochets up my body as I grip the railing for support.
“I knew it,” Mathew spits out. “Of course you’re here. Bailing your sister out of whatever trouble she’s gotten into. Again. Always.”
“What trouble?” Taina rushes over to my side, still in her sweats.
“Sorry, I came unannounced again. I wanted to finish our fight.” Then, she faces Mathew. “We’re having a little vacation together. I told you I was coming here.”
“This isn’t the address of the rental you booked,” Mathew says. “Why are you here?”
“Why are you tracking my exact location? What have I ever done to warrant that?”
“You’re helping out with one of her ridiculous jobs, aren’t you?” He looks to me. “You really can’t do anything on your own.”
I look down as Taina says, “Who the hell are you speaking to like that?”
“I told you I was sick of this!” he tells Taina. “I told you to let your sister clean up her own messes for once. You said this was a vacation. I knew you lied.”
“And you didn’t?” Taina shoots back as I try to step away, but she tightens her hold on my waist. “You’re supposed to be on a work trip, not
stalking me.”
“You’re my wife.”
“And she’s my sister.”
“I’m your husband.”
“I should go.” I pry Taina’s fingers off me. To fling myself into the ocean, if it meant getting away from anyone and everything right now. It’s all too much.
“You should have gone a long time ago,” Mathew says. “Your time limit is almost up. I warned you. I don’t care if you don’t have the money.
You promised you’d leave my house.”
Taina grips my shoulder with her nails. I’m sure she’ll draw blood. She pins me in place, looks up at Mathew with a flat expression, her voice a single, leveled tone. “Excuse me? What time limit?” Then she turns to me.
“What promise?”
“You coddle your sister,” Mathew says, “and it’s exactly why she doesn’t grow up. So, I stepped in.”
Taina takes a measured breath, looks to me. “And you didn’t tell me about this conversation?”
My brows pull together. “I don’t want to ruin your relationship.”
“Yet you do an amazing job at it,” Mathew shoots out.
Taina lets me go. I see it in her, the lack of emotion, the fists at her sides, the straightening of her shoulders. I wrap my arms around her.
“Taina, no.”
“Wife?” Taina struggles to free herself from my grasp. “I’ll be a
widow from this point on.”
“Taina!”
“I’ll kill you,” she says to Mathew. She turns and elbows me. “You, too, for keeping this from me.” She nearly slips out of my grasp, but the extra weight I have on her helps me yank her down the steps.
Instead of using the space as a barrier, Mathew storms down to us.
Before he reaches the center of the stairs, someone bullets past us.
Anders grabs a fistful of Mathew’s shirt and throws him down with force.
Anders is larger, but barely. Mathew doesn’t roll down the stairs, but the impact sends him stumbling down, gripping the railing to keep from hitting the pavement.
Anders is in an all-black sweatsuit, his hair a windswept mess, and his brows are knitted together; a long wrinkle dents the center of his forehead.
When he approaches us, reaches out to touch a hand to my face, his hand is a gentle contrast to the anger radiating off his body.
“You okay?” he asks so softly, my eyes burn with tears from the only person tonight who has spoken to me without a hint of anger.
I nod, and he caresses my cheek.
Mathew barks out a cruel laugh. “What’s this?” he asks. “Are you sleeping with him? You really will use anyone for your own benefit, won’t you?”
Both Taina and Anders whirl on him, and I somehow am able to run in front of them both, placing a hand on each chest.
“Please stop.”
Anders firmly grips my wrist, pulls me away. “That’s the bastard who threatened you, isn’t it?” Anders asks. “He wanted to kick you out even with nowhere to go.”
Taina shoves a finger at Anders. “You told him and not me? Are you kidding me?”
A screeching of tires tears through the air, and we all turn to the sound.
Valerie is storming toward us, barefoot, with a wild look in her eyes. Oh no.
“She knows,” I warn Anders. “She knows what I’ve been doing.”
His expression remains impassive as he faces Valerie. He stands in my path so that her fury lands on him first. “Was it all a lie?” she asks him.
“You never really got behind the wedding. She never convinced you.”
“It’s true,” Anders says.
Valerie laughs harshly. “I knew you hated the idea of us marrying, but I thought you hated Nick more. I can’t believe you tried to use him to manipulate me.”
Anders falters. “What?” He glances at me. “What is she talking about?”
“I was going to tell you today,” I hurriedly get in, “but you were so stressed about the plane, about missing the party, I thought I’d catch you up later.”
Anders digs the bottom of his palms into his eyes. “Lucinda, no. You should have run this by me. I would have never let this happen.”
“I didn’t know!” I get out, the words a desperate plea nobody cares for, words that hold no meaning. “I didn’t know he was a father, the age difference.”
“You didn’t know that he tried to control my whole life?” Valerie shouts. “You didn’t know that he managed my day, what I ate, who I spent time with, what I was allowed to do, wear, say. You didn’t know he was a manipulative bastard that ruined my life? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to.”
“You wanted to get married where he took you on your first date,” I explain, try to see the reasoning behind this, find the lost communication.
“You said it’s where you realized true love exists.”
“Because of John.” Veins pop out of her neck. “Anywhere Nick took me, all my favorite places, felt tainted, felt unreachable. John spent months and months bringing me to all the places I loved and hated, and showed me that I could form new, better memories. That’s what I meant.”
Panic blooms from every pore. “He tracks your location when you’re out.”
“Because I have a tendency to wander off on my own, and he wants to
make sure I’m somewhere safe.”
“You guys barely show any affection.”
“Oh my God, Lucy. He’s shy, is that a crime? Is it so horrible that he’s this awkward, weird, quiet, foolish man? I love him anyway! I love the way he makes me feel like me. No matter what he is, he’s never a bad person.
That’s all that matters to me. You had no right to try and ruin that. I thought we were friends.” She shoots out the last word like venom before turning on her brother. “And we’re blood.”
Mathew says, “You really ruin everything you touch.” Turning to Anders, he sneers, “You really think she cares about you? She only attaches herself to established, wealthy people—people who can take care of her,
because she doesn’t know how to do it herself. She wouldn’t give you an ounce of attention otherwise.”
“Not true.” I can barely get it out, and the sound of the words feels like
a lie anyway.
“Lucinda,” Anders says, like a plea.
“She ruins weddings for a living,” Mathew says. “You think she believes in love? That doesn’t matter to her. Save yourself the mess she brings wherever she goes.”
Not true, not true. It’s not true. Right?
But if it wasn’t, then the weight of everything I’ve done, everything I’ve done wrong, shouldn’t squeeze into my bones like they’re in the process of being smashed by a handpress. I can take a lot, but not this. Not the eyes of people I love and care about watching me like I’m a stranger, waiting to hear words they deem empty.
Rightly so. They owe me nothing. Not anymore.
If I reach out a hand, if I try to defend myself, everyone will recoil.
And witnessing that, feeling the cold of rejection so firmly, is something I can’t bear.
There’s only one person, a single human, who, no matter what I’ve done, no matter who they’re against, will forgive me and save me from any
pain if they could.
My sister.
I meet her gaze, and I see her register every thought and emotion running through me. See her own counter it—the betrayal, the anger, the sympathy, and understanding.
And what overwhelms it the most is the loyalty of love.
In a blur of motion, she grabs my hand and pulls me away. Gripping her keys, she shoves me in a car, and we drive away. Together.
And my sister’s presence, no, her very existence, is the only thing that keeps me from breaking entirely.
