Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
U ntil now, my experience of bachelorette parties came from TV and movies. That’s why I half-expected to see Nicole dressed in a tacky outfit with a sash, veil, and tiara when I walked through the wrought-iron gate to the courtyard outside the bar. But no, she wore a tasteful little black dress like most of the other women surrounding the large table. I seemed to be the only one wearing any colour. Had I missed a memo about a black-and-white theme? I felt under-dressed compared to everyone else, wearing a denim jacket over a short-sleeved top and a skirt with tights and boots.
At least I’ll be warm.
Moonlight and gothic-style lanterns lit the courtyard. Ivy climbed the red brick walls. Every table was occupied. Conversations in raised voices competed with the hip hop music pumping through the speakers.
I approached Nicole’s table, but she was too engrossed in chatting with her friends to notice my arrival. I tapped her shoulder. Even then, she didn’t acknowledge me until she had finished speaking with the friend opposite her. At last, she looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Oh! You’re here! Thanks for coming.”
I counted ten people around the table, including Nicole. I must have been one of the last to arrive, which was strange since I was only a few minutes late. “Am I late? Sorry.”
“Don’t worry. Some of us had dinner at my place first, then we headed here early. Have you met my friends?”
I looked from face to face, searching my memory. “Some of them…”
“I better introduce you.” She turned her attention back to the group of ladies around the table. “Everyone, this is…” Her voice dropped away and blankness spread over her face.
Why isn’t she saying my name?
“This is…” She grimaced.
All the little conversations dried up until awkward silence reigned, nine pairs of curious eyes staring at her expectantly. Nicole laughed nervously, combing a hand through her long blonde hair. I felt the colour drain from my face.
She’s forgotten my name. Eight years of friendship, and she’s forgotten my name.
Nicole laughed again, her eyes and nose crinkling. “Oh my gosh! I must be drunk already. This is Milly . That’s right. My old friend from uni.”
I exhaled. She got there eventually. I could forgive the lapse since she had been drinking, and I knew how wedding preparations and family drama were stressing her out. It was enough to mess with anyone’s brain.
Yeah. That must be it.
“Milly, this is Alicia, Stacy, Eden, Jodie, Gemma, Felicity, Jacquie, and of course, Gwen and Lisa, who I’m sure you already know.”
The names passed in a blur, but I tried to remember as many as I could. The women all greeted me before returning to their private conversations in pairs or threes. No one made space for me at the table.
I looked around, trying to spot a spare chair, but couldn’t see one.
“Hey,” the brunette woman on my left said. “I’ll grab you a chair.”
“Would you? Thanks. That would be great.”
I watched her disappear inside the bar, then emerge with a stool. She dragged it across the pavers to our table. Everyone had to shuffle their chairs along to make a gap for it to fit.
“Thank you so much. Stacy, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “And you’re Milly . How awkward was that?”
Heat spiked up my neck and flared on my cheeks. “Yeah. We’ve only been friends for eight years.”
“Wow. You’ve probably known her the longest, apart from Gwen and Lisa.”
“I think so.”
“Well, now you can bring it up whenever you feel like giving her shit. ‘Remember that time you forgot my name in front of all your friends?’”
“Good point. I hadn’t thought of that.”
A heaviness settled in my chest. Nicole and I didn’t have the kind of relationship where we could give each other shit anymore. Those days were long gone.
A waiter came by. He placed three large bowls of fries on the table. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked Nicole.
“Who wants another drink?” Nicole asked the group.
“Let’s get espresso martinis,” someone said.
“Oooh. Espresso martinis all round?”
“Yes, please!” was the resounding answer.
I recoiled at the notion of the sickly coffee and alcohol concoction. “Actually,” I cut in, “I’ll have a glass of red wine, please. A Pinot noir.”
Maybe I imagined it, but I thought I saw Nicole roll her eyes. “Ten espresso martinis, please,” she told the waiter. “And one glass of Pinot noir.”
He nodded and retreated inside.
My wine came out first, followed later by the noxious brown cocktails.
“Cheers,” Nicole said, raising her glass.
Gwen followed suit. “To the bride-to-be.”
“Cheers,” everyone rang out, clinking glasses.
Nicole took a sip, but a thought seemed to strike her mid-swallow. She downed her mouthful. “I almost forgot! I made goodie bags for all of you, but one item didn’t get delivered, so they weren’t ready for tonight. I’ll have to give them to you another time.”
“What’s inside?” Alicia asked.
Nicole had a glint in her blue eyes. “It’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.”
“I haven’t had a goodie bag at a party since I was a little kid,” Eden said.
“Let’s just say these aren’t your little kid party favours.”
Giggles erupted all around. Once the laughter died down, chatter started up again. Everyone seemed to know each other well—except for me. The only person I really knew and wanted to speak to was Nicole, but she was way down at the other end of the table, and fully engaged with two friends sitting opposite her. I took a long sip of wine.
“How’s your drink?” Stacy asked.
Relief swept over me at the sound of her voice. Someone to talk to. “It’s nice. How’s your…” I eyed her cocktail. “ That .”
She laughed. “Well, it’s a bit too sweet for my liking.”
“That’s not surprising.”
She sighed. “I know, I know. But I better enjoy it. Tonight’s the last night I get to drink for a long time.”
“Why’s that?”
“My husband and I are going to start trying for a baby soon.”
I plastered on a grin to cover my shock. “Wow. Congratulations!”
This was my first encounter with someone around my age who was married and trying to get pregnant. Marriage and babies were so far out of my comfort zone, I didn’t know how to react.
“It’s my goal to have three babies before I turn thirty,” Stacy explained, glowing with pride. “So, I’ve got to start now if I have any chance of making it happen—unless I’m lucky enough to have twins or triplets. I’m hoping the first one’s going to be a girl. That’s my dream. At least one girl.”
I downed my glass of wine much faster than I intended. I hadn’t expected to have to talk about babies. To me, having three kids while under the age of thirty sounded more like a nightmare than something aspirational, but I tried to seem excited for her.
Stacy went on and on about her plans. She seemed so happy. I didn’t want to spoil it by attempting to change the subject.
When a twelfth guest arrived at the table, it was a welcome interruption.
“Marley! You made it!” Nicole hugged the tall, dark-haired woman and planted a kiss on each cheek with a mwah . “Let’s find you a seat.”
Nicole secured an extra chair. She pulled it up beside her, somehow creating a space along the packed table. But Marley didn’t sit down. She wandered around, greeting everyone with hugs and gushing remarks.
“Hello, I’m Marley. I don’t think we’ve met,” she said when she got to me.
“No, I don’t think we have. I’m Milly.”
“How do you know Nicole?”
My first instinct was to call her my best friend, but I snuffed out the words before they could leave my mouth. Best friend no longer seemed apt these days. “We went to uni together.”
“Are you a doctor too?”
“No. I dropped out long before getting qualified.”
“Oh no. Why did you drop out?”
“My father died, and I couldn’t focus on studying after that.”
“That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“How do you know Nicole?”
“My partner and Paul have been friends since primary school.”
“That’s cool. I lost touch with primary school friends years ago.”
Our exchange ended there because she moved on to Stacy. The pair embraced.
“I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” Stacy said.
“We saw each other at Eden’s place two weekends ago,” Marley reminded her.
“Oh yeah! That’s right. Why does it feel like ages ago?”
The two women entered a passionate discussion about all things babies and pregnancy while I listened on the periphery with nothing to contribute. All the other conversations going on around me were much the same: wedding talk, house hunting, husbands and partners. Why did I feel like some kind of alien?
I slipped off to the bar and ordered another glass of wine. When I went back out, rain began to pitter-patter on the awning over the courtyard. Our table was sheltered, but others weren’t, and several people abandoned the courtyard to head indoors. The temperature had plummeted. It would be freezing if it weren’t for the heaters mounted to the brick walls blasting warmth through glowing orange grates. I huddled into my denim jacket and tried to position myself for maximum heater exposure.
Once I had finished my second glass of wine, talking came easier. I joined in several discussions and felt like I was getting along with everyone much better, even if I had little in common with them and didn’t always find the subject engaging.
Soon, the rain intensified, and not even the heaters could compete with the strong chill in the air.
“Let’s go inside,” Nicole said, hugging her shivering body. “The DJ should be starting soon.”
“Dancing will warm us up,” Marley said.
The interior of the bar had a raw yet sophisticated industrial theme, all black iron, grey concrete, and exposed brick. The DJ was setting up at her station by the dancefloor.
“I’m getting another drink,” Nicole said. “Who else?”
“Me!” Eden said.
Others echoed her sentiment. We bought our drinks and consumed them in a booth of modular couches around a low table.
The DJ began her set, dance music booming from the speakers. Marley was the first of us to descend on the dancefloor, but everyone else quickly joined in. Except for me. I ordered another drink because I didn’t feel like dancing. The bartender poured gin and tonic over ice. I took the cold glass in hand and wandered over to the sidelines of the dancefloor. I sipped my drink and bobbed in time to the beat while I observed everyone else dance. At some point, I noticed a man watching me from the opposite end of the dancefloor. He seemed around my age, and he wasn’t bad looking, but I sensed something off about him and looked away.
“Come on, Milly. Let’s dance!” Stacy grabbed my hand.
I gulped the rest of my drink, put my glass down on a nearby table, then let her drag me to the dancefloor.
The mass of moving bodies absorbed me. Lights flashed. Vibrations pulsed through my body. The room spun. It hit me just how drunk I was. I hadn’t intended to drink so much—It just happened. Everything was a blur. I couldn’t tell who I was dancing with. When did it get so crowded?
Then I felt someone grab my butt.
Indignation rose within me, but I swallowed it down, writing the gesture off as an accidental brush.
Then it happened again. Not a brush. Definitely a grope.
I swung around to face my assailant, but they had disappeared within the twisting mass.
A hand came down on my shoulder. “Are you okay, hun?”
I couldn’t tell who the voice belonged to. Then I connected the outstretched arm to Marley. She looked at me with a crease of concern between her eyebrows.
“I think I need to sit down for a moment,” I said.
“Sounds like a good idea.”
I pushed a path out of the dancefloor and made for the empty booth.
Whew.
I collapsed onto the couch, resting my head in my hands. After a few deep breaths to calm myself, I pulled my phone out of my bag and pretended to occupy myself with it. That way, no one would interrupt my solitude.
Or so I thought.
Out of the corner of my eye, I detected someone moving towards me. I lifted my head and saw him. The man who had been staring at me earlier. Was he the one who grabbed me? Before I could register what I was doing, I was on my feet, dashing to the restrooms. I wouldn’t put it past that weirdo to follow me, so I shut myself inside and locked the door. I sat down on the closed toilet lid, head spinning.
How did I end up here, hiding in a bathroom while everyone else was out having fun? I always knew socialising with Nicole’s friends was going to be awkward, but I never imagined it would be this awkward.
I spent a long time in the bathroom before I emerged. Part of me expected to see the creep waiting for me as soon as I opened the door, but he was nowhere to be seen. Thank God.
I marched up to the bar in desperate need of something to dilute the alcohol inside me. “Can I get a glass of water, please?”
“Sure thing.” The bartender bent down and retrieved a glass.
I looked around, trying to spot Nicole and her friends, but I couldn’t see them anywhere. I figured they were somewhere within the crowd on the dancefloor.
Once I had downed the water, I dove back into the throng, trying to find them.
What the hell? Where is everyone?
I went back out to the courtyard. It was empty. Deep puddles covered the ground. It must have poured with rain while we were inside.
Could they have left without me? Surely not.
I looked around the bar again, but I still couldn’t find them. Not knowing what else to do, I approached the bartender. “Excuse me. The group of women I came with—did they leave? I was in the bathroom, and I’ve lost them.”
He grimaced. “I’m afraid I saw them leave.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Just a few minutes ago.”
I frowned. “Right. Thank you.”
The night was still young. They must have gone to another bar or club. Without me.
I raced outside, hoping I’d be able to see them somewhere down the street. But no, no sign of them. They could have gone to any of the numerous bars or clubs nearby. There were too many to search. I went back inside with my head hung low.
How could they leave me behind? It was a large group, but still. All eleven of them forgot about me. Even Stacy, who had seemed so friendly, and Marley, who spoke to me not that long before I hid in the bathroom. I tried to convince myself it was an honest mistake, but in the back of my mind, I wondered if Nicole just didn’t care. She had barely said a word to me all evening. Maybe she wanted to lose me on purpose.
I shook the idea out of my head.
That wasn’t the Nicole I knew. Any moment now, she’d realise what she’d done and be mortified. In the meantime, there was still one thing I could do.
I returned to the bathroom to escape the blaring music. With quiet restored, I pulled out my phone to make a call. Nicole might not answer, but it was worth a shot. Standing in front of the mirror, I pressed my phone to my ear. She picked up much quicker than I expected.
But the voice that answered wasn’t Nicole’s.