Chapter 29
4 hours until the wedding
I don’t know how long I stand in front of Jack’s door. But the longer I stand there, the more overwhelmed I feel. Like all this time I’ve been treading water in the deep end, and it’s finally caught up with me and I can’t swim anymore.
I’m heartbroken that my relationship with Jack has been reduced to awkward pauses and stilted smiles. I’m disappointed that in a matter of hours, I’ll probably never hear from him again. Most of all, I’m tired. Tired of trying to stay afloat. Of pretending I’m okay when I’m not.
My shoulders shake, insides cracking right down the center as I dissolve into a fresh wave of tears.
I’m crying so hard I don’t hear the soft tread of feet on the carpet behind me.
“Ada, what’s wrong?”
I look up through watery eyes to see Allison. Her hair and makeup are done, but she’s still dressed in her bridal robe. Her gaze is pulled taut with worry.
I frantically wipe at my cheeks. “Nothing,” I tell her. “I’m fine.”
She makes a face. “You’re clearly not fine, so either you can come to my room and tell me what’s wrong, or you can identify Jack’s body when it gets pulled out of the lake after a mysterious accident . It’s up to you.”
“How do you know it’s about Jack?”
She sighs, exasperated. “Because I have two eyes and more than one functioning brain cell, Ada.”
“But it’s your wedding day,” I say. “I don’t want to burden you with my bullshit.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Ada, please. You’ve done nothing but put up with my bullshit for years, so for once, let me put up with yours.”
“But—”
She shakes her head. “No buts, now come on. We’re going to my room where you’re gonna drink a mimosa and tell me everything. Got it?”
I nod helplessly and she takes me by the hand and drags me to her suite.
As soon as the door closes behind us, Allison is thrusting a mimosa (mostly champagne by the taste of it) into my hands and ushering me to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.
“Now spill,” she commands.
“I don’t know where to start,” I tell her.
“How about the beginning?”
So I do. I tell her everything. Well, not everything . I leave out the part about the tear in the veil. But other than that, I tell her everything. About the night in London. About Carter. About dancing in the pub. About how I tried to kiss Jack. About karaoke and every ridiculous, terrible, wonderful thing that happened after that.
“You were right,” I say, wiping under my eyes. “You were right about Jack. About all of it.” My voice wavers on the last syllable, and Allison draws me into a hug, crushing my ribs to hers.
“Trust me,” she says, petting my hair. “I’ve slept with a lot of guys I wish I hadn’t. It’ll be okay.”
“But that’s the thing,” I tell her, voice cracking. “I don’t regret it. I just feel foolish for thinking this thing between us might be real. That things with us were different.”
Allison pulls backs, gaze wavering across my face before she asks, “Is that why you broke up with Carter? Because of your feelings for Jack?”
I consider her question for a moment before I answer. “No, I broke up with Carter for me. It’s something I should have done a long time ago. But Jack…” I scrunch up my face, trying to summon the right words. “I know we didn’t get much time together, but maybe that’s why the last few days meant so much. Because we felt like a team. Like he really supported me. And not just to be nice or because he wanted something, but because he truly cared.” As I say it, I feel the inevitable wave of emotion rise inside me once more, but I push it away, not wanting to go there.
Allison studies me, eyes tracing mine with the kind of practiced understanding that can only come from someone who truly knows you.
“You really like him, don’t you?” she asks after a minute.
“Who?”
She playfully punches my arm. “You like Jack.”
Yes , I think instantly without consideration.
“I do,” I admit. “But I’m not ready to jump into another relationship and neither is he.” I look into my lap, sighing before I say, “When I was with Carter, I made excuses for why he wasn’t proposing, why the relationship wasn’t moving forward. I spent years downplaying my own wants and needs all because I was afraid of being alone, and I don’t want to do the same with Jack. Or anyone.”
As I say it, the words gain traction inside me. Jack was right about me being afraid, but maybe what I was really afraid of wasn’t change or uncertainty, it was a fear of being alone.
But I don’t want to live that way anymore. I want to feel like I’m enough on my own. I want to feel comfortable as I am, with or without a partner by my side.
“I think I need to be single for a while,” I say after a beat. “Maybe try out the whole Emma Watson self-partnering thing,” I add with a half laugh.
Allison’s mouth softens into a tender smile. “If you want to be single for a while, I totally support that. But the truth is there’s no magic time when you’re suddenly ready to be in love. Just like there isn’t some switch in our hearts we can turn off when our feelings are inconvenient. I mean, look at Collin and me.” She gestures to the sparkly ring on her left hand. “When I met Collin, I’d just gotten out of an abusive relationship, and I wasn’t ready to date again. I was terrified of getting hurt, but everything with Collin just made sense whether I was ready or not.”
I nod, thinking about how, five days ago, I’d never met Jack. All I knew was that I didn’t like him. Then little by little the layers had peeled back and somewhere between London and here, I’d fallen for him. I didn’t plan for it to happen. It just did.
“Besides,” she continues, “just because now isn’t the right time for you and Jack, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s the wrong guy, right?”
I straighten up, brows furrowing. “But I thought you hated Jack?”
“I don’t hate him,” she says. “But I think two things can be true at once. Jack can be rough around the edges and messy and complicated. But I don’t think he’s actually a bad guy. I think he’s just a guy who’s going through some shit right now.” She pauses, chewing on her bottom lip before she says, “Collin’s worried about him, you know.”
“What kind of worried?”
She sighs, shoulders lifting then falling. “I think he tries to act like he’s tough, but he’s hurting more than he lets on. Collin’s been trying to get him to talk to a therapist about her.”
Her. The ghost still haunting him.
“Did you ever know her?” I ask. “His wife?”
“I met her once when they got back together for like two seconds.”
“What was she like?” I ask, unable to help myself.
Allison’s eyes turn heavy and I can tell she’s debating how much to say. “I don’t know…she’s a lawyer too. I think they met in law school. And really pretty. But like, not prettier than you,” she says quickly. “She was one of those girls who always seemed out of reach. Like sort of aloof and cool, you know?”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling my insides deflate.
I know the type. It’s the opposite of me. While I’m open and wear my heart on my sleeve, girls like that are mysterious, closed off, unattainable. Effortlessly cool. I can see why Jack would be into her. No , I remind myself. In love with her.
“Were they good together?” I know I’m pushing things, but suddenly I need to know. I need to know what kind of person Jack had fallen for. What kind of person he’d crawl over broken glass for.
Allison shrugs. “I don’t know, you’d have to ask him or Collin. But from what I heard, they had this very chaotic relationship. They’d fight and make up a lot. Things were always hot and cold.”
I wince, knowing exactly what that means. They had lots of sex. Passionate, wild make-up sex. Visions of a faceless woman wound around Jack, bodies writhing together, infiltrate my brain and suddenly I feel a hot surge of jealousy. Jealousy that Jack loved her enough to marry her. That he’d wanted to be with her forever. No expiration date. But past the pangs of jealousy is a slow-churning anger. Anger she’d thrown it all away. That she’d thrown him away.
As soon as I think it, I feel silly. I have no right to be jealous or angry. He’s not mine and he never was.
I turn my attention back to Allison, the person I should be focused on right now. “I’m sorry for dumping all this on you on your wedding day,” I tell her. “Let’s talk about something else. I spoke with the caterer yesterday and—”
She shakes her head. “Ada, it’s okay to be upset. Your feelings are valid, even the inconvenient ones.” Her mouth wavers, lips curling into an uneven smile before she says, “I know growing up you had a lot of responsibility on you, especially before Mom got married, but it’s okay to need things from other people too.”
“But it’s your wedding day,” I say. “Today is supposed to be about you.”
Her smile softens. “I know, but you’re my sister, and if you need me, then I’m here for you.”
Her words unravel something inside me, and I realize as she gathers me against her chest that it’s not just Allison who might need me. I also need her. That as much as I’ve tried—and failed—to fix things, to be there for everyone else, to always be the perfect daughter and sister and girlfriend, I can’t do it. Sometimes I need someone there to catch me . To pick up my pieces.
After a minute, I pull away, collecting my breath before I say, “For years, I’ve told myself that you’re the one who needs me. That I’m the big sister who is supposed to hold everything together. But…” An unexpected crack breaks through my words. “But I need you too,” I tell her.
“It’s okay to need me,” she whispers. “I need you, too, sometimes. Like when I need you to tell me I shouldn’t get bangs. Or to remind me where I keep my passport.”
“Bottom left drawer of your nightstand,” I say without hesitation.
She laughs. “God, I missed you.”
I pull her back against my chest. “I missed you too.”
We stay there, bodies pressed together like we’re trying to make up for the last seven months, until Allison sits back, nose wrinkling.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m not sure I even want to know, but are you going to tell me why you’re covered in mud?”