Chapter 2
2
ZARA
I put my hands to my mouth, feeling the excitement run through me. “Oh my gosh, is this really it?” I ask the room as I turn to the side so they can see the swoosh of the dress. “How can you find the dress on the first try?”
“I did.” Zoey holds up her glass, and I shake my head.
“You chose that dress to make him eat his heart out and for him to check out your ass,” I remind her of what she said.
“And he married me in it,” Zoey states proudly, holding up her hand with her rings.
“I didn’t care what I wore,” Gabriella says from the side, her camera beside her. “I would have worn jeans and a T-shirt.” As if she didn’t get married to one of Hollywood’s top leading guys in front of and behind the camera.
“I would have gotten married in a bikini on the beach a la Pamela Anderson,” Ryleigh adds, and we all laugh. “I mean, I would have pretended I didn’t want it, but we all know I would have wanted it.”
“We know,” everyone says at the same time. My cousin Stone took one look at Ryleigh and fell head over heels in love with her. Ryleigh, on the other hand, needed some convincing, especially since she was on track to become a district attorney in Chicago. Now, she lives in Nashville and is in family law, where she is thriving.
“I think this is the one,” I confirm, looking at Bianca.
“Should we put a veil on to get the full effect?” she asks, and I swear I squeal just like my cousins did not too long ago.
Zoey gets up and brings me my champagne glass, and I down the whole thing in one go before handing it back to her. When Bianca comes back, she looks at me. “I chose something that doesn’t have a lot on it since the dress has so much,” she says, pinning my strawberry-blond, almost-ginger hair at the nape of my neck before sticking the veil at the base of my hair, completing the look. I can’t help but put my hand to my mouth to hide the smile under it. My green-gray eyes shine as I take myself in.
“It’s so much more than I thought it would be,” I murmur, turning right to left to see the way it carries. It’s so pretty. The way the lights hit some of the flowers makes them glisten, and I can picture myself walking down the aisle in this dress. “It’s stunning.” I feel the tightness of my chest as the sting of tears comes to my eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
“That has to be the fastest shopping you’ve ever done,” my Aunt Zara says. “Usually, you are on the fence for weeks.”
“I know,” I answer her. If anyone knows how picky I am, it’s her since she dresses us all for events. She has the hottest personal shoppers on the planet on her payroll, who dress all the stars all around the world.
“Between us, it was Koda who sent us this dress last week,” she admits, and my eyes go to Koda, who is married to my cousin Christopher and now works for my aunt. She high-fives Zara and takes a sip of her drink. “She saw it on the runway and immediately started calling everyone.”
“Koda.” I say her name louder than I should, and she looks at me. “You chose this dress for me?” She shrugs. She’s gone through the ringer in the past couple of years. She lost her husband, who was Christopher’s best friend. They started as friends when Christopher began pitching in with her and the girls, and it worked its way to more. She just gave birth to their first child a couple of months ago. “She deserves a raise.” I point at my aunt, who nods.
“I know. She’s like the best employee I have,” she praises. “She finds the gems. Case in point, that dress.”
“Okay, so the big question now is are we doing a reception dress?” Zoey asks from the side.
“I don’t know if I want to,” I admit, looking at myself in the mirror. “I kind of want to live in this dress now,” I say, making everyone laugh.
“This is a record for the fastest appointment in history,” Bianca states, and I can’t help but gush and look at myself in the mirror.
The appointment was supposed to take three hours. At least that is what I told Daniel when I left him. We all walk out of the dress shop into the cold wind. “Are we going for lunch?” Sofia asks, and I look at them.
“I’m going to head home,” I say. “Daniel just got home from a week away, and I want to spend time with him.”
“I want to go shopping,” my mother interjects, “and knock some of the Christmas gifts off the list.”
It takes a full thirty minutes to say goodbye to everyone before Zoey and I jump into a cab to share it. I think about texting Daniel, but instead, I look out the window at all the Christmas decorations in the shop windows. It’s the most magical time of the year in the city, and I love it. I love everything about Christmas, and I’m thinking of maybe baking some sugar cookies when I reach the house. “Thank you so much for today.” I reach over and hug Zoey. “I couldn’t do it without you.” I kiss her cheek, then get out of the cab. “Call me, and we can have breakfast tomorrow,” I suggest before slamming the car door.
Walking up the steps to the front door, I slide my key in and turn the lock. Stepping into the entrance, I quietly close the door behind me. I place my purse on the table at the door, right next to a Christmas tree decoration I put there last week. Shrugging off my jacket, I hang it in the closet before kicking off my black boots and placing them right next to Daniel’s black dress shoes he took off when he got in late last night.
I step into the house, looking at the living room on my left-hand side that now looks like Santa Claus threw up in it. As soon as Thanksgiving finishes, I take out the Christmas decorations, and this year was no different. In the corner of the room, my perfect tree is lit up with white twinkle lights, and the silver, rose-gold, and white ornaments are perfectly placed. The L-shaped couch even has the red-and-white throw pillows that have Merry Christmas stitched in the middle of them, with a red plush throw blanket draped on the side.
I’m about to walk into the kitchen when I hear a squeak from upstairs, so I walk over to the staircase with garland all along the banister with lights interwoven. I hold on as I walk up the first step. I don’t know why, but it suddenly feels like I’m in a scary movie, and the killer is waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear the faint sound of moaning, and my eyes go big. Oh my God, is he jerking off? I think to myself, getting a touch pissed off. Especially when I tried to get him in the mood last night and even this morning, and all he could do was tell me he was tired. I shake my head as I get to the top of the steps, seeing our door is closed, which is weird since we never, ever close the door.
My hand goes to the handle when I hear, “Oh, God, yes!” It’s not Daniel’s voice, making my stomach lurch to my throat. The handle turns in my hand, and I push open the door to my worst nightmare. There, in the middle of my king-size bed, is Daniel plowing his very-married-with-three-children coworker Sarah. The same coworker who has always been super friendly to me and always fucking there at company events. “Harder,” she eggs him on, and I don’t know how long I stand here. My feet are stuck to the floor, my head feels like it’s going to explode, the room feels like it’s spinning around and around, and I think I’m going to pass out. I reach out to grab the doorjamb, and I must make noise because their heads both whip to me. “Oh my God!” Sarah shrieks as she tries to get out from under a naked Daniel and cover herself.
“Jesus, Zara!” Daniel shouts, scurrying away from a naked Sarah, who hovers at the corner of my bed on my favorite plaid duvet cover that I put on this week. My bed. Mine. Ours. She spots her shirt that must have been tossed to the side in their haste to fuck in my bed . I watch them both trying to cover themselves before I turn away from them and run down the steps to the front door.
My heart fucking hammers in my chest so hard it feels like it’s going to come out of my body. The sound of it echoes in my ears, and all I can hear is Daniel shouting my name. He’s rushing down the steps wearing only shorts. Just the sight of him makes me want to throw up. “Zara, please wait. Give me a minute to explain,” he pleads. I think it’s the shock or maybe it’s the anger brewing inside me when I turn and laugh hysterically in his face.
“A chance to explain? I think it’s pretty fucking much explanatory,” I accuse, pointing at the staircase I just walked down from. My hand shakes as I point, wondering if maybe she’ll come down and help him explain what is going on.
“You weren’t supposed to—” He runs his hands through his hair, and I can see the bite mark on his shoulder. My eyes almost fixate on it until I snap out of it.
“I wasn’t supposed to what?” I ask. “Catch you?” I grab my jacket and put it on, ignoring the tears rolling down my face.
“You weren’t supposed to be back so soon,” he defends and his voice is low. “I thought?—”
“I wasn’t supposed to be back so soon.” I shake my head, grabbing my bag and then sliding my feet into my Ugg boots. “I wasn’t supposed to be back so soon. That’s all you have to say?” I yell.
“No.” He puts his hands on his hips. “It’s just that I?—”
“I want to know one thing,” I tell him. “How long?” I look at him and see him staring at me, this man who I was supposed to marry. This man who just today I picked out a wedding dress for, thinking I would be walking down the aisle and he would be at the end waiting for me. What was such a happy fun day is now one of the worst of my life. “How fucking long?”
“Zara,” he says.
“After all of this,” I snap, “the least you can do is give me an answer.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this—” he says, and I just stare at him.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I question, my voice in a monotone. “Are you actually saying that you think I could forgive you for fucking someone in my fucking bed?” I shout. “In our fucking house?” I shake my head. “You have lost your damn fucking mind if you think I could ever, ever forgive you for lying to me.” His face goes pale, and I take a step back because he actually thought if I caught him, I would look the other way. That I would forgive him. “Now, I asked you a question,” I growl through clenched teeth. “How fucking long?” He looks up at the ceiling. “If you’re praying, I can tell you right now God isn’t fucking listening to you.”
He puts his hand on the back of his neck, his brown eyes staring into mine. “A little over…” I wait for it, hoping it’s like a week, maybe a month. Maybe it just started. “Three years.” The minute he says that, it’s like the air is drained from my body.
“Three years,” I repeat in a whisper. “Three fucking years.” I swallow down the bile that is forcing its way up my throat. “We’ve been together for three years.” I’m not sure if I’m reminding him or telling myself. “Her daughter is two years old, and her son is six months old.” It’s then it dawns on me. “Oh my God.” The mere thought of standing in the same room as him makes me feel dirty. “Tell your girlfriend she has twenty-four hours to tell her husband she has been fucking you,” I tell him, and he glares at me. “After that, I’m calling to tell him myself.”
I turn to leave the house, my hand on the doorknob, when he reaches out for me, grabbing my arm. “Zara, please wait,” he pleads. “We can…”
I don’t move nor do I look back over at him. Instead, I look at his hand on my arm before I shake it off and walk out the door. “Twenty-four hours, and that’s me doing you both a fucking favor.” I finally take a look back at him. “And it’s the last thing I’ll ever fucking do for you.” I slam the door behind me before running down the steps and rushing to the corner. I stop, waiting for the light to turn green. But when it takes too long, I turn right and continue walking down the street. I walk around people, my feet moving, but my brain is stuck back in the middle of my bedroom. The cars zoom past me as I reach into my purse and pull out my phone, calling Zoey right away. “Answer the phone,” I beg as it rings and rings right before it goes to voicemail. The tears are now just streaming down my face. I call her again. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” I chant as my hands start to shake, and I know that in a matter of minutes, I’ll be having a full-blown panic attack. The image of the two of them plays over and over in my head.
On the fifth ring, I finally hear her voice. “I left you literally in front of your house twenty minutes ago.”
“Zoey,” I wheeze as all the breaths get caught in my throat. “Zoey.” Now, it comes out in a sob. “Daniel,” I say his name and just words come out in pieces. “I,” I start to pant, “can’t.” I lean down, trying to catch my breath. “It’s…”
“Zara, I don’t understand you,” she soothes softly. “Breathe.”
I take a deep breath in and then exhale it; the sound of beeping cars is all around me as I try to focus on inhaling. “It’s over,” I say softly. “The wedding is off.”