Chapter 24
“Oh my God! Audrey!” Chelsea screams from my living room.
I’ve been home from Eternity Springs for a week.
I didn’t know how desperately I needed the vacation.
It’s been a few years since I took any significant amount of time off, and I know I can’t keep going like that.
Arianna Santo Dixon pulled me into her girl squad, throwing me into the most chaotic group chat ever, possibly in the history of mankind.
These ladies accepted me with no expectations.
Then, as soon as I explained Chelsea, they popped her into the chat too.
I have girlfriends.
While sad to leave the denial bubble I created in the mountains, I had to come home. The on-call vet hadn’t killed any of my clients, but Chelsea reported more than one aggravated regular who didn’t like his table-side manner. Plus, I had a handful of last-minute tasks to get done for the auction.
Which is tonight.
And I’ll have to see Jamie.
Excuse me while I go hyperventilate a little.
So, Chelsea came over to get ready with me. I voluntold her she’d be attending as my plus one. She is my platonic lesbian life partner, after all, so it’s fitting. We shared a bottle of wine while doing our hair and makeup, and it did a great job of relaxing me.
“Audrey! Get in here!”
As I walk into the living room, I hear someone on the television say, “This is such a big development for the sport of football. What a platform he now has.”
“Who?” I ask.
Chelsea shushes me as the announcer continues. “Boy, I gotta say, I’m surprised we’re only now finding out about this.”
A woman pipes up. “From a female perspective, I can relate. We are told to be careful how we act, what we say, and anything we do in this male-dominated world of sports broadcasting. I have to assume that Wahlberg kept his diagnosis to himself as a precaution. He protected himself and his emotional well-being. I can’t find fault in that. ”
“And Shara, do you think his announcement will help, or hinder, the Coyotes quarterback?”
“I think it’ll be twofold. On one side, you’ll have hundreds, if not thousands, of kids who now want to learn from him.
Who see him as an even bigger role model than before.
But, there will be old school fans who turn on him, because he’s tainted that picture-perfect image they concocted in their own minds. ”
“Did he —” I stop, swallowing hard, as I stare at a gorgeous picture of Jamie transposed in the upper right corner of my television. “Did he announce he’s autistic?”
Chelsea’s head whips to stare at me. “You fucking knew, and you didn’t tell me?”
“It’s not my secret to tell. And honestly, the only reason I know is because I asked him if he was. I doubt he would have told me. Although, after everything that happened recently, I wasn’t sure if I believed he was autistic.”
“Why not?”
I struggle to keep emotion off my face, and my voice even. “I thought maybe he used my diagnosis to get close to me. That if he acted throughout the entirety of our short relationship, then maybe that was an act too.”
“Oh, Aud,” Chelsea whispers. Her expression is pained as she stands, giving me a hug. “Don’t think that. Besides, he’s not that good of an actor. I saw the way he looked at you when he was here. The man was smitten.”
“Maybe there was interest, but he didn’t see it going long-term. It’s fine. I’m glad I found out before I fell even harder.” I sniff, failing to keep the single tear from dribbling down my cheek. “Alright. We need to go. You remember your one task, right?”
Chelsea nods. “I’m never to leave your side, and I play man-to-man defense if Jamie approaches you. Do fouls count in a charity benefit? Like, if I kneed him in the balls, would I get kicked out? Does he get a free shot on me?”
“You’re mixing your sports metaphors, but let’s not have any violence, okay? Bad publicity could impact our business. Leave Jamie out of it.” I get an alert telling me our rideshare is here. “We need to go. I really hope this night flies past so I can move on.”
Chelsea doesn’t respond as we walk to the car.
I requested a large SUV, because both of us are wearing dresses that need a little bit of breathing room.
My A-line champagne dress with sheer sleeves is embroidered with floral lace featuring green stems and every shade of pink imaginable.
The deep V-neck on the front and back highlights my chest and shoulder blades.
It’s the dress of my dreams. My gorgeous best friend is adorned in a baby pink fit-and-flare sequin dress with a small train.
She will be the interest of many men tonight. And probably a few women.
I’m silent on the way to the downtown hotel, focusing on my breathing and some personal mantras I like to repeat to myself when I’m really struggling to feel overstimulated and out of control.
I am not defined by anyone else’s expectations.
I am beautifully unique. My voice matters.
I deserve love and respect. I learn and grow from every experience.
I make my own joy. I don’t need a man to have a fulfilling life.
I may have to repeat that last one over and over again tonight, because the thought of Jamie in a tux is probably going to do me in.
“You ready?” Chelsea whispers, squeezing my hand in encouragement. I didn’t realize I’d grabbed her hand at some point, but I’m appreciative of the support.
“No, but I don’t have a choice. Let’s get this over with.
” Stepping out of the rideshare about a football field length away from a large contingent of press — and no, the irony isn’t lost on me — Chelsea and I walk swiftly up the red carpet and into the hotel lobby.
I met with the florist yesterday, and memorized the layout of the hotel, so I’m able to pull Chelsea right into the ballroom.
Where, of course, I run right into Jamie.
I let out an oomph at the collision, and his hands immediately come to my arms, holding me upright.
The delicious smell of his cologne wafts over me, and I’m suddenly right back in his bedroom, safe in the confines of his bed.
Wrapped in his embrace. Tears fill my eyes as I look up to find a stricken Jamie.
“Audrey,” he breathes.
“No,” Chelsea snaps. “Let go.”
“Doc, please,” he pleads, but acquiesces by letting go of my arms. The loss of his touch is almost painful. It’s only been two and a half weeks since we were together, but it feels like an eternity. I hate this.
“I can’t,” I whisper brokenly. Turning away, I allow Chelsea to take my hand, but as we step away, Jamie grabs my other one. “Wha — what are you doing?”
He gives me a sad smile. “You look exquisite tonight, Audrey. I can’t let you walk away without telling you that.”
My breath catches as I stare at him, but Chelsea yanks my arm.
He looked genuinely broken. But what can I believe?
Chelsea pulls me out the side door of the ballroom, and into a long hallway.
She doesn’t stop until we’re safely in the confines of the women’s restroom.
I take in a shaky breath as I brace my hands on the counter.
“Chels, am I just love-drunk? He looked so sad. Was that acting?”
“I don’t know. I’m so confused right now,” she murmurs, placing her small clutch next to my hands. “Your boy sure does clean up well, though.”
I let out a snort. “Not my boy, but yes. He definitely does.”
She catches my gaze in the mirror. “You’d make an insanely striking couple on the red carpet.”
That comment hits me where it hurts, and she knows it. “It’s moot. He didn’t want to be seen in public with me. I refuse to be someone’s dirty secret.”
“‘Atta girl,” Chelsea says with a swift nod. “Keep that attitude the whole night, and you may just make it out of here without mounting his leg.”
She’s not that far off from the truth. I know how amazing his thighs are.
“Are your parents coming tonight?” Chelsea asks.
“I don’t know. They’re on the guest list, but they didn’t RSVP. That didn’t surprise me, though. They like to make an entrance.”
“They wouldn’t come just to support you?” Chelsea says, then laughs. “I can’t believe I actually said that with a straight face. Of course, they wouldn’t.”
I chuckle, the sound awkward and off-key. “Right? They’d be more likely to come to this because of the guest list. Certainly not me.”
“I don’t know,” she muses. “Half of Denver’s professional athletes are coming. This is well below their pay grade.”
“Plus, they really despise Jamie. They probably won’t forgive him after the bullshit at the gala.
” My phone dings with a timer, letting me know guests are due to arrive any moment.
“Alright. Let’s go check with the hotel staff on dinner, and make sure the band is setting up.
Then we should be able to hide in a corner with a bottle of some kind of alcohol. ”
Two hours later, I can barely feel my feet.
As someone who literally stands most of the day, every day, that’s saying something.
But women’s shoes are made directly by Satan himself.
Granted, I love how powerful and beautiful the Christian Louboutin shoes make me feel.
The four inch stiletto suggested I was a force to be reckoned with.
Maybe I should have chosen a smaller heel.
I ran into Claire, one of the women in the crazy group chat.
She never talked much, and as soon as I met her, I understood why.
Claire is quiet and introverted, just like me.
She’s an accountant, has a type-A personality with an analytical brain, and I can tell we’ll gel right away.
She tells me about a run-in with a man outside the bathrooms who infuriated her.
“He was loud, brash, and completely out of line!” she huffs.
“How so?”
She is simmering with tension and anger. “He suggested we have a quickie in the bathroom. I didn’t even know his name! Drunk I might do that, but sober? No.”