Chapter 3
chapter three
The day of my wedding, my parents knock on my door. I’m lying on my couch in a tear-stained hoodie with my hair in a two-day-old bun. I never let myself get like this, but the doom of my engagement is good enough reason to sit around and be miserable for a bit.
Everything is ruined. I might as well join the party.
Slowly, I roll myself off of the spot on the couch that I’m sure has an imprint of my ass by now and shuffle to the door.
“Hi, sweetie,” Mom says. “How are you feeling?”
Dad is behind her, his thick mustache blocking his mouth. It’s amazing how he can look the same as the day I announced my engagement as he does today, when there’s definitively not a wedding happening.
Still, even his eyes widen at the sight of me.
That doesn’t mean anything good.
“Awful,” I say.
“I brought you some food.” She holds up a tray. “And I wanted to see you. Is Nate here? I made enough for him too.”
Nate has crashed on my couch the last two nights. He was here when I cried and watched the video over and over. Now, he’s handling the logistics of ending the wedding.
I don’t deserve this man.
“No, he’s out.”
“Darn.”
“I’ll give it to him later,” I say as I take the tray. “Thank you.”
“What did he think about all of this?” Dad asks.
I think back to Nate’s carefully guarded nature. I know he’s angry, but he doesn’t let it show. Still, I see his tense shoulders and gritted teeth as I’ve cried.
“He’s supportive, like always.”
Dad hums and says nothing else. That’s pretty typical for him.
“We are too,” Mom says softly. “That video was no way a future husband should talk about a partner.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry about the money you guys spent on the honeymoon.”
Wasted money was one of the things Rob had been furious about, according to Nate.
I feel terrible. And that feeling has only gotten worse. Normally, it would be enough for me to bend to Rob’s will, but this time, I’m not. I feel terrible and I’m continuing. The guilt is eating me alive, but I’m turning away from it.
That’s not something I do. But I will for Nate.
“We didn’t lose anything, dear. That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.”
“You paid for the honeymoon, which isn’t happening now.”
Mom and Dad glance at each other and then at me. “It still can,” she says. She pulls out a pamphlet for the cruise. I resist the urge to groan. That whole decision was made for Rob’s benefit. Looking back on it now, I was setting myself up for misery from the get-go.
“Mom, I?—”
“You’ve had a rough go of it. But you need something to pick you up. I know you have a ... complicated past with swimming, but there are plenty of other things you can do to care for yourself.”
Complicated past is an understatement. When I was five, I fell into a pool when Mom’s back was turned and she didn’t see me struggling. By the time the lifeguard pulled me out, the damage was done. I was told it was only a few seconds. To me, it felt like a lifetime.
My young brain latched onto that moment and told me that water is unsafe. I’ve always followed that belief, avoiding water and everything to do with it.
The honeymoon was an exception. For Rob .
But Mom seems so hopeful, and I know I can’t let this money go to waste, even if there’s no way I can go.
Taking the pamphlet, I try to think of a plan for how the cruise can get used so I can stay at home and rot.
Mom and Dad are none the wiser.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Just update the names when you know who’s going. You can take Quinn.”
“She’s got her birthday party to plan for.” I shake my head. “No way.”
She hasn’t even had time to see me. Apparently, Andrea has been on a warpath with the canceled wedding. I know she’s taking some of the brunt of it along with Nate. I owe her far too much.
There’s a part of me that hates that I hide out when things get bad, but I know if I face any of this, I’ll take it back. And I refuse to do that this time.
“Or you could take your other best friend who loves swimming,” Mom adds.
I nod absentmindedly. Nate does love swimming, and he’s free since school isn’t in session.
A plan forms in my mind. One where Nate can get the best thank-you I can muster.
“I’ll figure it out,” I say with a smile. “Thank you guys again.”
Mom hugs me and squeezes me tight. Dad gives me one of his trademark nods. Something in my chest loosens. At least they’re not mad at me.
They would be two of the few.
“Maisie,” a voice calls from the doorway. “Are you still in despair?”
“A little, but at least there’s food!” I call from the kitchen where I’m watching the microwave. I knew when Nate was on his way back from the wedding venue, and I started it so it would be ready when he walked through the door.
“You’re cooking?”
“Kind of. My parents brought something for us.”
“ Yes, ” he hisses with a smile before he looks me over. “It’s nice to see you up and moving.”
“Well, I owe you. The least I can do is have some food ready for you.”
“Berry, you don’t owe me a thing. What else are friends for?”
“Sure,” I reply as I take his plate out of the microwave.
“Is that lasagna?”
“You know it.”
“Your parents do love us. There’s enough for both of us, right?”
“There is.”
“I’ve gotta tell them thank you,” he replies. “I’ll set the table.”
I can’t help but smile. This is so easy with him. Why the hell would I ever give it up? This, right here, is why I’m dealing with all the guilt. And it’s worth it.
By the time I bring both plates out, Nate has napkins and silverware ready to go .
“Want a Coke?” he asks. When I nod, he disappears only for a second and is back with our drinks.
“How was everything?” I ask coolly as I sit. My voice sounds almost normal, but I’m staring at the melted cheese on top of my lasagna, not him.
“Do you really wanna do this again? Last time didn’t go so well.”
I’d asked yesterday and nearly broke down in tears. “I’m doing better today.”
“You seem like you are,” he says.
My spine straightens. Of course he would pick up on the fact that I’m pretending.
“How mad is Andrea today?” I ask. There’s no better way to prove I’m fine than to talk about the woman who’s been a thorn in my side for months.
He blows out a breath. “As angry as always.”
My face falls against my will. I already want to run and hide at the mention of Andrea being angry.
Tapping on the table, I think about the run I’ll need to go on to process this. Who knew ending a wedding would fill me with such anxious energy?
“Maisie,” Nate says softly. “They’ll get over it.”
“I know,” I say. “Did you see Quinn?”
“For a moment.”
“And?”
“Quinn’s fine. Still not mad at you. She never would be.”
“I know. I just ... need the reminder.”
Nate reaches over and goes to put a hand on my shoulder. I pause as I remember when I’d been in his arms two days before. A hand on the shoulder is nothing compared to a hug, but I’ll take it. But before he touches me, he stops and pulls away.
My stomach sinks. I want the contact, but now that I think about it, Nate and I don’t tend to touch very often. When we were younger, things weren’t like that .
When did they change?
“Maisie, you’re doing the right thing. You know that, right?”
“I do.”
“Then don’t worry about anything else. Just recover.”
Immediately, I shake my head. “I wanna try to be normal. No more crying on the couch. No more looking like ... this.”
“You look fine.”
“It’s sweet that you’d lie for me, but I’m a mess. I can’t go on like this.”
“Take as much time as you need. You don’t need to rush.”
I do need to rush this, only so he doesn’t feel like he has to stay because of me. But he doesn’t know that yet.
“I want to move on. Move forward. I can’t mull in this for too long. You know that.”
Nate only sighs. The summer before college, we both lost someone. For Nate, it was his mom. For me, it was my grandma, the woman responsible for my fun summers and warm Christmases.
Both of us fell apart. I tried to be there for him and he tried to be there for me, but we were a mess of grief with no way to process it.
Eventually, Dad sat both of us down after two weeks and told us we had to at least try to do the things we loved, even if we didn’t want to.
Otherwise, the depression would only get worse.
I can’t feel that way again, and Nate knows it.
“Want me to join you for your run tomorrow?”
Usually I would say yes, but not this time.
“You might have plans.”
“The whole point of my summer is to not have plans.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you have something for me.”
“I might.”
“What are you getting at?” he asks slowly.
I pull out the pamphlet for the cruise and hand it to him. “I’m thinking this. ”
He looks it over, eyes going wide. “This is your honeymoon cruise.”
“Yep. It’s still booked. Someone”—I look up at him—“could go.”
“And by someone, you mean me.”
“Yes.”
“With you?” He says it slowly and I immediately shake my head.
“No! No. I’m not going.”
His brow furrows. “And why not? Is being on a boat in the middle of the ocean suddenly not appealing to you?”
I roll my eyes as I lean back in the chair. Nate knows about my fear of the water, and he looked at me like I’d grown a second head when I originally told him where I planned to go for the honeymoon.
“You don’t need to gloat.”
“I’m not trying to gloat. I just didn’t see why you’d choose to be around water on purpose.”
My reasons seem stupid now. I thought that meeting Rob in the middle would make him more open to living in my house, at least temporarily. Now I know nothing I could have done would’ve been enough. Not without distancing myself from Nate.
“The point is, my parents paid for it. Someone should enjoy it.”
“They could go.”
“They want me to. I may have told them I conquered my fear of the water.”
“Oh, did you?” Nate asks. “And let me guess, you don’t want to admit you totally lied.”
“I’m not gonna defend my choices here. Please, consider it.”
Nate finally looks at the pamphlet, flipping through it as his lips press together.“You know, there’s a lot on here that has nothing to do with swimming.”
I have a feeling that’s on purpose. Mom may have believed me, but she also was there when I nearly drowned, so she would give me an out.
“And?”
“You could try to go.”
I huff out a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“What? It’s your honeymoon.”
“It’s just a trip now,” I remind him. “And do you really think I’m willing to go on a boat after all of this? Besides, you handled all of that stuff for me while I was a potato on the couch. You deserve it.”
He moves the pamphlet toward me again. “No, you do. When was the last time you took a break, Maisie?”
I didn’t take breaks. And I certainly didn’t take vacations. Fear of water aside, I always preferred my routine. Hell, I’ve been dreading this cruise even before I realized how much of an idiot Rob is.
Nate uses my silence to go in for the kill. “I’m not going if you aren’t.”
This is his usual methodology to get me to agree to whatever he wants me to do. He always offers to do it with me.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“And why is that?”
“This is a honeymoon cruise with only one bed in a tiny cabin. We’d practically be on top of each other for a week.”
He immediately goes pale, as if being that close is actually his nightmare. Ouch. I don’t need to take it personally, but I feel his reaction right in my chest.
“I ... can handle it,” he says.
I’m tempted to cry again, but I refuse to. “Sounds like you can’t.”
“I can .” He leans forward, and his tone has an edge to it that I’ve not heard before. When he leaves and I wind up crying again, I’ll be thinking about this moment.
Harping on it, actually.
But for now, I have to keep it together.
“Just go on the cruise. Meet a hot woman. Have a great time.”
It was rare that Nate gave women a chance. This could be a good time for him to.
“If it’s a honeymoon cruise, how am I supposed to meet anyone single?”
“The cruise itself isn’t only for honeymoons. It’s an adult cruise with the honeymoon package.”
He bites his lip as he considers it. I can’t stop staring at the movement, wondering what his answer will be. His eyes are locked on the pamphlet, and I know he’s considering this.
“And what about you?” he asks. “You want me to leave right when you just made a huge life change?”
“I’ll be fine. I can deal with this.”
“You need me.”
My skin prickles at the words because he’s right. I’ve known for a very long time that I do need him. “I can survive for one week.”
“It’s one hell of a week to do it.”
“There’s no one else I wanna give this to. And if my parents know that I’m not going, you’re the next best thing. You know they consider you to be a son.”
He sighs. “I see your logic, but I don’t like it.”
“Life will be easier if you admit I’m right and spend your week looking over the ocean and traveling the Caribbean.”
“It wouldn’t be a terrible way to spend some time,” he admits.
“Good. You’re seeing my point. Now, continue to see it while I eat.” I grab my fork. “I’m starving.”