Chapter 28
7 hours until the wedding
Through a blurry fog of tears, my eyes dance from the unmade bed to the bra peeking out from under it. Allison’s right. It does smell like sex in here. And regret. And I’m suddenly filled with an unbearable need to be absolutely anywhere but this room.
I pull on the first clothes I can reach—a University of Washington hoodie, black leggings, and a pair of scuffed-up Chucks—and head for the door. My feet blindly carry me down to the lobby and outside into the crisp morning air.
Gravel crunches underfoot as I pass the horse stables, the scent of dirt and grass and horse manure filling my lungs.
It’s quiet out here. Nothing but the gentle lap of the lake and the hum of the earth under my feet. A brisk morning breeze ripples past and I shiver, pulling my hoodie closer.
I scan the misty horizon, imagining the dark shades I’d use to paint the water’s edge. The sharp contour of the hills looming in the distance. The varying shades of green, dripping with vibrancy like I’m seeing everything through a polarizing filter. The swift brushstrokes for rolling waves of green that seem to go on for miles, stretching and folding into a limitless distance.
Overhead, the sun shifts west across a pale sky, and I close my eyes like I did on Arthur’s Seat, focusing on the thrum of my heart and the heavy rise and fall of my breath until all the sounds start to overlap and run together like a string of musical notes.
In the stillness, my mind wanders back to Jack. His touch. His mouth. His taste. The hum of his voice. The glimmer of what if I’ve allowed to dangle in front of me like a carrot on a string.
I should have known better. I should have prepared for this. After all, I’d told myself this was a possibility. But I’d given in anyway. Perhaps because there was some part of me that naively believed things with us were different. That I was different. That the last few days were enough to blow past everything I knew to be true about him. Everything he’d told me about himself. But I’d been wrong. Painfully, frustratingly wrong. And now I can’t ignore the heavy dose of reality sliding down my back like an ice cube.
Doomed from the start , he’d said.
I wish I could tell myself that’s not true, but he’s right. Of course he is. Not just about himself, but about me as well.
I’m just getting out of an eight-year relationship. A relationship I haven’t yet grieved or fully processed. And he’s getting divorced—something that isn’t even finalized. He’s built towering walls around himself that won’t come down anytime soon. Not for me. Maybe not for anyone.
I stand there a moment longer, feeling my lungs expand and contract against my chest, watching my breath rise like smoke in the crisp air until I notice white folding chairs being set up on the lawn, and I’m reminded that I should be getting back. I’m probably already late for hair and makeup.
I turn back toward the castle, mentally preparing myself for the amount of fake smiling I’m going to have to do today, when a distant noise catches me off guard. Something like scraping metal? Or gagging?
I scan the grounds until my eyes snag on a figure hunched over, bent at the knees, puking into one of the horse troughs by the stables. I freeze. Wait. Is that—? No. That can’t be.
My feet squelch in the mud as I quicken my pace toward the figure. When I’m close enough to see who it is, I break into a full-on run.
“Collin?”
He lets out a belch before sinking to the ground, mud staining his pants.
I crouch beside him. “Collin? Can you hear me?” I shake his arm and his eyes flicker open.
“Allison?” he murmurers, voice groggy.
“It’s Ada.”
“Allison?” he asks again.
He’s in worse shape than I thought.
“Collin, what happened?” A flash of scenarios ripples across my mind. The boys all getting wasted a few hours before the ceremony. Empty booze bottles everywhere. A trashed hotel room. Oh God. This is bad. How did he even get out here? And where are the other groomsmen? I look over my shoulder, half expecting Tony or Braden to stumble out from the stables.
“Allison, I’m sorry,” he croaks.
“Collin, Allison’s not here,” I tell him. “It’s me, Ada. I’m gonna try to help you.” But as soon as I say it, I realize I’m not sure what I can do. He weighs twice as much as me. There’s no way I can carry him.
“Collin? Can you hear me?” I try again. “Can you stand?”
His eyelids flicker for just a second before closing again.
Fuck.
I need a plan.
I’m just about to see if maybe the situation will grant me mom-lifting-a-minivan-off-her-child superpowers, when his eyes flutter half open. “Allison?”
God, not this again.
“No, it’s Ada—” I grit my teeth, summoning all my strength as I try to lift him. But it’s no use. He’s too heavy.
I slump against the trough, eyes skipping from the drool on his chin to the suspicious stain on the front of his shirt. He looks terrible and I can’t help but feel bad for the poor guy. Even if it is his own fault.
“Collin?” I try again, but he’s out cold.
I sigh. This is probably the longest amount of time Collin and I have spent together, just the two of us.
A few days ago, I would have said it was because Collin and I don’t get along. Because I don’t trust him. But now I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault. Because I never gave him a chance or tried to get to know him. But maybe here, outside the stables, while he’s covered in vomit on his wedding day, is just as good a time as any.
“Collin?” I try. “Can you hear me?”
His chin perks up.
“Do you want to marry Allison?” I ask.
Eyes still closed, he nods.
“And you really love her?”
For a long moment, he doesn’t speak and I think he’s passed out again. Then he holds up both hands spread apart. I frown. I don’t understand…but then it dawns on me. He’s showing me how much .
Warm relief pours over me.
Maybe I was wrong about Collin. Maybe he’s a good guy just like Jack said. And maybe it’s not too late to try to fix things.
“Collin,” I say, taking a long breath. “I know I haven’t been, uh…” I stall, looking for the right words. “As supportive of this wedding as I could have been, and that you and I haven’t exactly gotten off on the right foot, but before you marry Allison there are a few things I want you to know about her. Like that her go-to comfort movie is The Parent Trap . And when she’s hungover, she wants pancakes and hash browns. Her favorite Taylor Swift album is either Lover or Reputation depending on what kind of mood she’s in. Her favorite flowers are roses, but only red or white ones. She hates salt and vinegar flavored anything. She’ll tell you she won’t get cold, but she always gets cold, so make sure she brings a sweater. And she’ll act like she doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she will absolutely crush your ass at Scrabble.” I pause, watching as a tiny dribble of drool makes its way down his chin. After a beat, I say, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that my sister means everything to me, and I just want her to be happy, so if marrying you is what makes her happy, then you have my blessing.”
I search for some kind of acknowledgment that he got any of that. But still no movement.
“Okay, good talk,” I say, giving his shoulder a firm pat.
I turn and look out at the lawn stretching all the way up to the castle, wondering if anyone is out looking for us. If maybe they’ll send a search party when the groom doesn’t show up for photos.
“Ada?”
When I look back at Collin his eyes are still closed.
“Yeah?”
“Allison misses you.”
Emotion bottlenecks in my throat. “She does?”
But Collin doesn’t answer. Instead, he slumps over and begins to snore.
I wait to see if he’ll wake up again, but when he doesn’t, I pull out my phone and call the one person who can help me right now.
He picks up on the third ring.
“Ada?”
“Hi…uh, listen…I know it’s not a good time, but I need your help. It’s Collin. He’s a mess.” I look down at where his chest rises and falls in time with his rhythmic snores. “Can you bring water?”
“Tell me where you are,” he says. “I’ll be right there.”
As soon as Jack spots me, I wave him over. When he gets closer, his dark eyes narrow and it’s hard to tell if he’s mad or just worried.
“I know you probably don’t want to see me—”
“It’s fine.” He peers beyond me to where Collin sits, still slumped over, eyes shut, drool dripping from his chin. Jack winces. “He’s in bad shape, huh?”
“How did this even happen?” I ask. “Were the guys pre-gaming this morning or something?”
“I have no idea, considering I was with you this morning.” He shoots me a look I can’t read. “He must have been drinking with Tony and Braden.”
Hot bursts of memory pop behind my eyes. Jack’s hands on my waist, guiding me on top of him. Lazy morning kisses and soft moans. I brush the thought aside.
“Did you bring the water?” I ask.
Jack hands me a bottle of water and I crouch beside Collin and tilt the bottle toward his lips.
“Collin, you need to drink this,” I urge. Slowly his eyes flicker open, and he starts to drink.
“How do you feel?” Jack asks, kneeling beside me.
“Like shit,” Collin mumbles.
“You look it.”
Collin tries to grin. “Is Allison mad?”
“Lucky for you, she doesn’t know yet. Right?” Jack looks to me to confirm and I nod.
“Please don’t tell her,” Collin pleads. “She’s gonna kill me.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t have a death wish,” Jack says with a grimace. “Can you stand?”
“I don’t think he can do much of anything right now,” I say. “We’ll have to carry him.”
I scan the length of Collin’s body, trying to figure out the mechanics of how Jack and I could carry him. But even if we can get Collin up and moving, he still looks like shit. His shirt is covered in mud and vomit. Not to mention he stinks to high heaven of booze. There’s no way we can smuggle him back into the castle looking like this. Someone is sure to notice. Unless…
I turn to Jack. “I have an idea. Take off your shirt.”
His mouth widens into a horrified o . “My what?”
“Your shirt.” I gesture to his crisp button-down. “Take it off.”
“And why exactly do I need to take my shirt off?”
“So you can switch shirts with Collin,” I tell him.
“You want me to wear his wet, vomit-stained shirt?” he repeats, a groove appearing between his brows.
I wave my hand dismissively. “He’s the groom, you’re not. No one cares if you stink of booze and look like Charlie Sheen after a bad night.”
Jack looks like he wants to argue but begins unbuttoning his shirt anyway. I bury my gaze, eager to look absolutely anywhere but Jack’s naked torso, the same torso that a matter of hours ago had been pressed up against me in bed.
He clears his throat when he’s done, signaling that the coast is clear, and I help Collin into Jack’s clean shirt while Jack puts on Collin’s dirty one.
“Good as new,” Jack remarks as soon as Collin’s dressed. “Just like Weekend at Bernie’s .” He catches my eye with a small smile, and my stomach gives a traitorous flutter.
“Do you think Allison will notice?” I ask.
Jack gives me a look. “It’s Allison.”
“You’re right. But he looks a lot better. And he still has a few hours to sober up.”
Jack reaches for one arm and I take the other. “On three. One…two… three .” Together, we hoist him to his feet. Collin totters a bit, but Jack takes most of his weight, and the three of us hobble through the grass toward the castle like we’re participating in a drunken version of a three-legged race. If anyone sees us, we’re dead.
Jack must have the same thought because he asks, “What are we going to do if we run into someone? He still looks awful.”
“Wait,” I say, a little out of breath. We stop and I dig inside my purse, where I pull out a pair of sunglasses. “How about these?”
Jack makes a face. “Collin wouldn’t be caught dead in cat-eye sunglasses.”
“I don’t think Collin is really in a position to be picky about fashion choices right now.” I place the glasses on his face and step back, assessing. “Not bad, right?”
Flickers of amusement dance across Jack’s features. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Maybe a little.”
Jack’s tight jaw loosens into a smile and something warm and liquid-like blooms inside my gut, but I shove it back down. It’s over , I remind myself.
As we enter the lobby, the doorman tips his hat at us, and we give him our best he is totally fine right now and absolutely nothing is wrong smiles. I think he buys it. So far, so good.
We make it all the way to the elevators without passing anyone, when the elevator door dings and my mother walks out.
“Ada?” Her eyes travel from me, covered in mud with tangled hair and puffy eyes, to Jack, who looks like he’s just tumbled out of a sewage heap, and finally over to Collin. She winces.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, forcing a faux cheerful smile.
She wrinkles her nose as though she’s just smelled something foul. Which she probably has. “What’s going on?” she asks. “Is Collin okay?”
“Hi, Mrs. Gallman.” Jack’s eyes bounce to Collin as though just now noticing him for the first time. “Oh, Collin? He’s fine.”
The dent between her brows deepens. “Are you sure?”
I follow my mom’s gaze to Collin, whose head has started to list forward. It looks like he’s staring right at— oh no —my mom’s chest.
This is bad. I try to adjust my hold on him, but his neck angles farther forward and the sunglasses slide to the bridge of his nose, like he’s trying extra hard to get a peek. It’s really not funny, except that, yeah…it’s pretty funny, and I bite down on the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing.
“Collin? Are you all right?” my mom asks, her face twisting with worry. When he doesn’t answer, she looks to me. “Why are you holding him like that? Ada, what’s going on?”
“He’s fine,” I lie. “Just a little horseback-riding injury. Nothing serious. Nothing to worry about.”
Horseback-riding injury? Where do I get this stuff?
Jack gives me a look, but I discreetly shake my head, hoping he gets the memo to just go with it!
“Right. Horseback riding,” Jack repeats. “Collin loves to ride. Helps clear his head,” he adds with a knowing nod.
My mom frowns. “Horseback riding? But, Ada—”
Mercifully the elevator dings and the doors slide open.
“We have to go. See ya later, Mrs. Gallman,” Jack says, and together, the three of us hobble into the elevator. As soon as the doors close, we both burst out into deranged laughter.
“Ohmygod,” I gasp. “That was close.”
“She was definitely suspicious.”
“It looked like he was ogling my mom’s boobs!”
“I mean, he does do that for a living,” Jack says. “We could just say he was giving his professional opinion.”
I snort. “Yeah, that’ll go over well. He better be prepared to kiss some serious mother-in-law ass.”
Jack presses the button for the third flood and the elevator whisks us upward.
After a beat, I say, “Thanks for your help. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“How many times have I saved your ass now? Four? Five? I’m losing count.”
“One more and I get a free coffee, right?”
Jack laughs and it’s friendly enough to feel like maybe we’re back to being friends, but still strained enough to remind me we probably aren’t.
“So does this mean you’ve forgiven Collin?” Jack asks.
I glance down at Collin. “We had a little heart-to-heart this morning.”
The corners of Jack’s mouth twitch like he’s trying to smile, but the expression doesn’t fully reach his eyes.
“Jack?”
Both of us look to Collin, whose eyes have flickered into half-moon slits.
“Yeah? What is it?” Jack gives Collin a frustrated glance as though he’s not sure how many more antics he can take from his best friend.
Collin hiccups before drunkenly mumbling, “You guys are cute together.”
I’m suddenly—and painfully—aware of how small this elevator is. How little air there is.
“He’s smashed out of his mind,” Jack mutters, not meeting my eye.
“Right,” I agree, keeping my own eyes pinned straight ahead.
“No, seriously,” Collin continues as though neither of us has said anything. “Jack, I haven’t seen you as happy as you were last night in years .”
Years?
Thankfully, the elevator dings and the doors open to our floor.
“I can take him from here,” Jack says, hiking up Collin’s weight as we step into the hall.
“You sure?”
“It’s no problem. I’m gonna have to get him in the shower,” he says, casting Collin a disgruntled look.
“Oh. Okay,” I say, aware that this means our circumstantial comradery is now coming to an end. “Well, call me if you need anything, okay?”
“I will.”
The seconds stretch out into a silent minute, both of us avoiding eye contact, before I finally say, “I’ll see you both later.”
I step toward my room.
“Ada?”
I hate the hopeful shudder that racks my body as I turn back to face him. “Yeah?”
Jack adjusts Collin’s weight, eyes bouncing to the floor then up again. “I’m sorry,” he says after a beat. “I’m sorry about everything.”
I swallow past the thick knot in my throat. “I’m sorry too.”
He nods, gaze lingering a moment longer before he disappears down the hall and into his room with Collin.