Chapter 7
ERIC
The day I was supposed to marry Selena was a tough one.
My parents set up an impromptu and low-key get-together for our side of the family and the friends I’d invited.
I had no idea how they’d managed to lock down an entire restaurant on such short notice, or how much it was costing them, but they assured me that it was taken care of. Maybe someday I’d ask.
Today, though, I was still in a daze. Still reeling from everything.
As hard as I tried to be a gracious host to all my guests, it was tough.
It felt like a funeral, with person after person giving me hugs and sympathetic looks as they told me how awful they felt for me.
I spent the whole afternoon and evening trying to be stoic and strong, forcing smiles and reassurances that I’d be all right and I appreciated them being there.
Though if one more person had told me “everything happens for a reason” or “someday you’ll be glad this happened,” I’d have ended up in jail. Like fuck, people—I knew it was hard to figure out what to say in these situations, but come on.
By the time the festivities—such as they were—wound down, I was ready to run for the hills.
I needed to get away from everyone and everything.
Oddly enough, I was looking forward to my “honeymoon” even more than I had been before my world had caved in.
Before, I’d been excited over the amazing trip I had planned with the person I’d thought was going to be my wife.
Now I needed every minute of those three weeks to escape everyone and everything. I needed the time and space to get over this fucked-up breakup and figure out where the hell I went from here.
More than once, I’d debated trying to rescind Jesse’s invitation.
I wouldn’t—that would be a dick move—but I admittedly regretted the impulsive suggestion that he take Selena’s ticket.
He was good company and probably understood more than anyone what I was feeling these days.
I just didn’t want any company right now.
My parents insisted that they, along with my sister and brother-in-law, would help the staff clean up after everyone left.
They practically shooed me out the door, and I’m not too proud to admit that I didn’t need much arm-twisting.
I owed them all for everything, and I’d definitely be making it up to them as much as I could once the dust settled.
Tonight, though, I didn’t argue and I let them handle things. I felt guilty as I drove back to the condo, but also relieved. Especially after I swung into a liquor store and invested in a fifth of Jack Daniels.
Now I was home.
Well… “home.”
Jesse’s condo was nice, but it felt like home in the way I imagined a FEMA trailer would—four walls and a roof with running water and electricity, all of which I was grateful for, but none of it permanent.
I had no idea where I’d end up after this, only that this wasn’t where I’d be staying in the long run.
I was sure glad to have it now, though. I didn’t know how I’d ever make up for any of this with Jesse; he’d saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life, and he’d given me a place to stay despite barely knowing me.
Maybe that was just to assuage his conscience—I wasn’t stupid, I could tell he felt guilty about being Selena’s sidepiece—but I was grateful for it anyway.
How I’d make it up to him, I had no idea.
There was time to figure that out. Tonight was for one thing and one thing only—getting fucked up.
Jesse was here now, but he was in his office with the door open just enough to let his cats go in and out.
I didn’t know if he was still working or just chilling on his computer; either way, I didn’t want to bother him.
Instead, I changed out of the shirt and tie I’d been wearing, put on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt my ex had hated, and went into the kitchen to find a glass.
The evening was pleasant, so I took my glass, the bottle, and my phone out to the balcony.
I would’ve been happy to shut off my phone and leave it in a drawer tonight, but there were still friends and family finding out about the canceled wedding.
I was still getting the odd text or call.
As much as I wanted to shut out everyone and everything, I was trying not to be an asshole to people who were concerned and wanted to check on me.
Ironically, I’d fielded several texts from two of my ex-boyfriends and an ex-girlfriend.
I’d stayed close to all of them over the years, but I’d very nearly severed ties with them because Selena didn’t like me maintaining those friendships.
Fortunately, I’d come to my senses and told her that they’d been good friends longer than they’d been partners.
They were part of my life, and that was non-negotiable.
The one concession I’d made was not inviting them to the wedding.
I regretted that now. I was just grateful all three of them understood and hadn’t distanced themselves from me. They’d still offered congratulations, and today, on the day of the wedding they hadn’t been invited to, they’d all reached out to check on me.
Darren
Right before the wedding? JFC. Sorry to hear it. Are you hanging in there?
Bree
Hey, are you doing okay?
Max
That’s fucked up, man. Let me know if you need anything. We can go get shitfaced until you forget you ever met her!
Guess you really do find out who your friends are in situations like this.
At least my phone had been blessedly silent for a while.
Today’s get-together and a few brief social media posts had probably answered most people’s questions, and information was no doubt moving through the grapevine.
I didn’t know how many people were aware of why we’d broken up, never mind how many knew about her apparently preexisting penchant for cheating, and I wasn’t interested in smearing Selena’s name.
I was pissed, sure, and deeply hurt, but all I wanted to do was put this behind me as quickly as I could.
Turning it into a gossipy scandal would only make things worse.
Out on Jesse’s balcony, there were two metal chairs on either side of a small table. I took one, and I sat back and gazed up at the sky.
I tried not to think about how this was exactly the kind of weather Selena had hoped for. Our wedding reception would’ve been indoors, but there was also an enormous patio area with lights strung up around tables and a dancefloor.
“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” she’d said excitedly after we’d visited the venue. “Dancing outside on a warm night under those lights—that would be perfect!”
In the moment, I’d thought so too. Romantic. Festive. The woman I loved bathed in a warm glow with a huge smile on her face as we celebrated our marriage.
I exhaled into the perfect evening she’d envisioned and swiped at my stinging eyes. Then I took a deep swallow from my glass because I was not nearly drunk enough if I was still thinking about the damn wedding.
A quiet thumping sound nudged its way into my awareness. I thought for a moment it was my own heartbeat, but then I realized it wasn’t the right rhythm. And it sounded like…
I twisted around in the chair to see Chili sitting up on his haunches and pawing at the glass. Chuckling, I pulled open the sliding glass door, and as soon as the gap was wide enough, Chili trotted out onto the balcony.
“Hey, buddy.” I left the door open a few inches so he could go back in, then leaned down to scratch his back. He arched it and turned in circles, kneading on the concrete as a loud purr started up.
For the first time all day, I smiled and felt it. My whole world sucked right now, but I had a soft spot for animals.
Good thing Selena and I hadn’t gotten a dog yet.
My smile died away and my chest tightened. Our lease had forbidden pets. We’d had a million conversations about how when we bought a house, the first thing we’d do was get a dog. Or two. And probably a couple of cats.
Another bullet dodged. We could have as much of a clean break as anyone could, and nobody had to say goodbye to a beloved pet.
I sighed and reached for my glass again. Definitely not drunk enough yet.
Chili chirped at me, evidently displeased that I’d stopped petting him.
I switched my glass to my other hand and resumed giving him pets, though my heart wasn’t in it now.
This was how it was going to be for a while, wasn’t it?
All roads led back to Selena. Everything I did, thought, or felt would be filtered through the lens of what I’d had, what I didn’t have anymore, and what might’ve been.
My phone pinged. I groaned. God. What now?
To my surprise, it was a message from Selena’s maid of honor.
Madeline
Hey, I just wanted to check up on you.
I took another sip of Jack, then put the glass aside.
I’m hanging in there.
I paused, gnawing my lip and wondering if I wanted to torture myself before I finally added:
How is Selena doing?
Don’t know. Don’t care.
I stared at the text. Madeline and Selena had been best friends since elementary school. It was difficult to imagine a rift between them, even over something like this.
She started typing before I did, so I waited.
She did you dirty. She swore she was done being that kind of person. Ugh. If I’d known, I would’ve told you. I swear.
Yet another person who’d known her longer than me mentioning that this had been a thing before.
I kind of wanted to be pissed that no one had told me she had a history of cheating, but I was too hollowed out for anger right now.
And besides, people changed. I wasn’t the person I’d been back in my younger days, and I hoped no one expected my friends and family to warn every potential partner because I’d been an immature asshole back then.
But once a cheater, always a cheater, right?