Chapter 24 #2
She sat at the head of the conference table laying out mood boards and floral palette samples. Everything spread all over. This was for their meeting later to discuss next spring's wedding trends, including peony imports, tenting logistics, and backup rain plans.
"Piper?" Aspen asked.
"I was wrong," she said, her voice shockingly steady. "I can't do weddings. It's not a preference, it's a liability. Someone else should handle that." And leave her with the funerals and corporate galas. Safe events that don't end in heartbreak or drag anyone down.
She showed Aspen the links to the articles. Aspen's face dropped as she read along.
"I understand that not helping out with weddings means the promotion might not be mine right now, and that's okay. You need someone you can really count on for all events. You deserve that. I just—I wanted you to hear it from me."
Aspen opened her mouth, clearly caught off guard. "I—Piper, hold on—"
"I guess… I guess… that means that it's okay to select someone else. No hard feelings. But, um, I'm not feeling great. I need to take a personal day." Her chin wobbled. "Please?"
"Of course." Aspen started toward her. "Of course, take the day. Take two. But we need to talk about this."
Piper had already turned, her hands clammy.
She didn't wait, she walked straight out of Montgomery Events, past the glossy photo wall and the sparkling light fixtures and the nameplate outside the office with a new smudge near the 'M.'
She didn't fix it. Not today.
Outside, the air was cooler than expected. Sharp, like it wanted to wake her up.
Zach's voice called from behind, breathless. "Hey, Piper."
She didn't turn around.
"Piper? What's wrong?" he hurried toward her.
"I saw the tabloids."
"The Drake and Anna thing?" he asked as though it was just another morning conversation.
"What other thing is there?" she asked.
"They just had a tiff," he assured like it was no big deal.
"A tiff?" she asked.
"That's what my mom always calls it when we argue. Not a big deal, just a tiff."
She paused at the curb, her throat thick. "Zach? I'm scared it always ends and this is how the ending starts." She hiccupped.
His confidence crumbled. Like he'd finally put the dot-to-dot together and realized the finished image was once again her fault.
"Piper, no. This isn't the beginning of the end for them.
It's not. Don't let this drag you. We broke through together.
Hold onto that. I didn't realize…" He took a few steps closer, his voice easing.
"No one's even talked to Drake or Anna yet.
I'm not sure what's going on, but I'll tell you as soon as I know.
And, if it were something big? The family would be all over my ass about it.
Digging for intel. Ready to fly down and force them to make up. "
She stayed still; shoulders tense.
"I stopped by because you left your binder at my place." He held out the black plastic in his hand. "Figured you'd want it for your meeting later."
She stared at it, but she didn't take it. Instead, her voice broke as she said, "I don't need it. I don't even know if I can do this job anymore. I just—"
Zach's eyes went huge. "Piper. Don't—"
"You see a tiff. I see a pattern. My pattern. How can you not see that?" How could he not get it?
He grimaced, and Piper felt that flinch of his doubt. It kicked her heart from up under her ribs.
"You're right. I don't get it because I'm not worried about Anna and Drake," Zach continued quickly. "Yeah, the pictures look bad. But those two? They love each other. Listen, every relationship struggles at some point. That doesn't mean anything. Theirs got caught in a picture. That's all."
She turned her head slightly. "You didn't see in it what I did."
He moved his palm to rest against her jaw. "Their fight is not because you worked on their wedding. I mean… it's, just, not."
She looked away again, her voice breaking. "But what if it is?"
Her throat tightened with the weight of it all.
"It's not," he said, but his voice was strained. A forced certainty that did nothing to soothe the panic clawing up from her stomach.
"This always happens," she whispered, the words trembling. Her breath caught, chest taut, heart thudding.
"That doesn't mean anything," he replied gently, but the syllables landed like stones.
She wanted to believe he was right. She really did. But evidence was not in his favor. This wasn't a theory. It was solid logic.
"I'm trying to believe in love," she said, and her mouth trembled with the effort to keep control.
"But it's terrifying. I need some time to think.
To figure out what I actually think without all the outside chatter.
" Her voice cracked on the last word, raw and exposed.
"I need some space to breathe so I don't accidentally break us.
" She needed a minute. She needed a damn week.
Gah. The sound broke out of her, half sob, half curse.
"Running happens in fairy tales," Zach said. "But this is us. This is real. You don't need to run. Not when I'm right here."
She pressed her hands to her cheeks, fingers digging in like she could somehow hold herself together.
And then without waiting for answers, without waiting for mercy, she turned and walked away.
Her coat flapped behind her in the wind, unbuttoned and uncaring. Her eyes ached with tears, every blink a battle.
But her chest… her chest burned, tight and hollow all at once. She didn't look back, not until the corner loomed like a cliff she didn't want to fall from but maybe already had.
When she did turn around, Zach stood frozen, one hand half-lifted as though he were going to try to stop her. Slowly, he dropped it to his side.
His mom said that detours were part of the path.
But, what if the detour always led back to the wreckage instead?