Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Maddy had almost convinced herself she was fine.
It had taken weeks of effort, of living her life the same way she always had, in a steadfast routine of sleep, work, Adam.
He helped, in his way, with his complete, unquestioning certainty that everything between them was exactly as it should be.
Maddy had leaned into that certainty. He would get them both to the finish line.
All she had to do was exactly what he told her to, and nothing could turn out that badly, could it?
As for the hen weekend, Maddy had just about managed to file under fiction.
Subcategory: pre-wedding hysteria. The kiss—if it could even be called that—had been reduced, in her own mind, to a moment of temporary insanity.
A lip misfire. The kind of thing that happened when emotions ran high, and people did things they did not mean.
She had repeated that story so often that it had started to stick.
Which was why, standing in the middle of this function room surrounded by Adam’s colleagues, Maddy felt almost normal.
No less than seventy percent normal, which equalled an A grade.
Did it edge down to a sixty sometimes? Sure.
But that was still a B. You could go as low as a fifty, and it was still a pass, right?
A solid C. Even a C minus wasn’t the end of the world, was it?
Some people would love a C minus existence.
The venue was sleek in a way that tried very hard not to look like it was trying.
Low lighting, polished surfaces, soft jazz.
A networking event, Adam had called it. But all Maddy saw was people in sharp suits talking about numbers and targets with people they already knew.
She would have called it a propaganda event at best. Adam looked happy enough, though.
Maddy watched him from where she stood near the bar, holding a white wine.
Adam was in the middle of a small group, animated, confident, telling some story that had the others laughing.
He looked good. He looked effortless. Maddy had always envied him for that.
He never looked like he was dragging himself through a day. He fit in wherever he went.
This was why they worked. If you didn’t know where you were going, a confident ship’s captain was key. And she had her captain. The man she was marrying. And she felt fine. Not thrilled, not giddy, but fine. Content, even. Comfortable. It all made sense.
‘You alright?’
Maddy blinked and turned as Adam appeared beside her, slipping an arm around her waist. She smiled at him automatically.
‘Yeah, of course. You?’
‘Yeah. Just escaped Martin before he started talking about his keto again. You sure you’re okay? Bit quiet.’
‘I’m just taking it all in,’ she said. ‘It’s your world.’
‘Our world,’ he corrected gently.
Maddy smiled again. ‘Our world.’
It sounded right. And wasn’t that the point of it all?
Adam leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her temple, already half-turning as someone called his name from across the room, adding, ‘Hey, I want you to meet…’
‘I’ll be two minutes,’ Adam said to Maddy. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’
‘I won’t,’ she vowed. Where would she go?
Adam disappeared back into the crowd, and Maddy exhaled slowly, letting her shoulders drop a fraction. She took a small sip of her wine, out of propriety, and turned toward the bar, leaning on it for support.
This was good. This was steady. This was what she had chosen. She had moved on.
Her phone buzzed in her hand.
Maddy glanced down, expecting something pointless, a group chat notification, or her mum asking something about the wedding. Instead, she saw her email app slide a notification across the screen.
And a name. Eva Givens.
It was like someone had slapped her.
Maddy stared at it, her thumb hovering above the screen, feeling her face grow unpleasantly hot. Should she open it? Of course. Eva was her wedding planner. It might be something about her wedding to the person who was, without a doubt, the love of her life. She had to.
The email was exactly what it should have been.
Hi Maddy,
Just confirming final details for the day…
There was no mention of anything else. No reference to the hen night. It was all timelines and suppliers and seating arrangements, written in that same capable tone Eva always used when she was working. It was completely, utterly normal.
So why did Maddy feel sick?
Because just seeing Eva’s name had done something to her. Lightning had hit her, a lightning she was starting to recognise, to connect to Eva Givens.
It was ridiculous. It was an email.
Maybe she was just scared Adam would find out?
Maybe that’s why she was so… But, find out about what?
He wouldn’t care because it didn’t matter.
It was one, two seconds? You could kiss your uncle for that long.
Well, maybe not quite your uncle, but a good friend.
A close friend. On the lips for two seconds.
It could happen. Adam could have seen it with his own two eyes and given no shits. It was that inconsequential.
Maddy scrolled through it, forcing herself to focus on the words. The logistics of a day she had spent months planning, a day that was now only weeks away from actually happening.
This was real. This was what mattered. She was nodding to herself, feeling okay.
Until her brain played the moment back for her.
It wasn’t even a rerun of the kiss. Just the feeling of being under that table. Of the way Eva had looked at her, and the way she had looked back. The crackle of energy shooting back and forth between the eyes of Eva Givens and Maddy Kind.
Maddy locked her phone and lowered it slowly, her grip tightening slightly around it. Nope. Still fine. C minus.
‘I’m back.’
Maddy flinched slightly at the voice, looking up to find Adam back at her side again.
‘Hi,’ she said. She forced a smile. ‘Just had an email about wedding stuff. Final details.’
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Anything I need to…’
‘Nope. Just confirming things we’ve already decided.’
He leaned against the bar beside her, nudging her lightly. ‘Couple more weeks, and you’ll be stuck with me.’
Maddy let out a soft laugh. ‘Oh, god, imagine.’
‘You love it.’
‘I do,’ she said, because she did. In the way she understood love. As a choice. As work. She knew who Adam was, to his core. She had put in the time to know him, to build their life together.
Anything else was a trick of the light.
Adam grinned, satisfied with that answer, and launched into a summary of whatever conversation he’d just escaped from. Maddy nodded in the right places, smiled when she was supposed to, and let his voice fill the space.
Maddy took another sip of her wine and focused very carefully on Adam’s voice. This was what was real.
Whatever that feeling had been with Eva, that lightning strike, it wasn’t life. It couldn’t be.
It just couldn’t.