Addison
Thursday night I kept checking the mirror like it was going to tell on me.
Not because I didn’t know what I looked like.
I did. Hair down, simple black top, jeans that fit, the version of myself I always chose when I wanted to feel normal.
But my face looked different somehow, like it was holding something new, like my mouth didn’t know how to relax without bracing for the next question.
Sawyer was stretched out on the couch with her sling still on, one leg extended, the other bent, watching me pace between the bedroom and the kitchen like I was trying to wear a groove into the floor.
“Addie,” she said finally, her voice low and tired, “come here.”
“I’m fine,” I lied automatically as I smoothed the hem of my shirt for the tenth time.
Sawyer lifted her brows. “That’s not your fine,” she said.
I stopped in the doorway, caught. “I just—” I exhaled and let my shoulders drop. “It’s dinner. It’s literally just dinner.”
“And you’re acting like you’re walking into court,” she said.
I tried to laugh, but it came out thin. “This is worse than court.”
Sawyer’s mouth quirked. “Oh?”
“Yes,” I said, pointing at her like she was the one who needed convincing. “You don’t understand. They’re going to look at you and love you and then I’m going to cry in a restaurant.”
She stared at me for a beat, then blinked slowly. “That’s your fear?”
I nodded once, serious. “Yes.”
Her whole face softened. “Jesus,” she murmured. “Come here.”
I crossed the room and sat carefully on the edge of the couch by her uninjured side, still moving like I was afraid I’d bump her wrong and break something important. Sawyer’s good hand slid into my lap, her fingers warm and steady where they laced through mine.
“You don’t have to do it tonight,” she said quietly. “If it’s too much.”
“I do,” I answered immediately. “I want to. I’m just—”
“Terrified,” she supplied.
“Yeah,” I admitted.
Sawyer squeezed my hand. “Then be terrified,” she said. “And do it anyway.”
I swallowed and nodded. “Okay.”
“Also,” she added, letting her eyes flick over me, “you look really good.”
My chest loosened a fraction. “Thank you.”
“And if you cry,” she continued in that deadpan voice of hers, “I will absolutely pretend it’s because the appetizer touched your soul.”
That got an actual laugh out of me. “You would.”
“I would,” she said. “I’m very supportive.”
I leaned in and kissed her carefully, soft and quick, the kind of kiss you give someone you’re trying not to hurt. Sawyer chased it a little, her mouth warm and patient against mine.
“Go,” she murmured when we parted. “Tell your people.”
“My people,” I repeated, smiling in spite of myself.
Sawyer’s eyes softened. “Yeah,” she said. “Your people.”
I stood, grabbed my purse, checked my phone again even though I had checked it thirty seconds earlier, and hovered near the door.
Sawyer watched me hover like she had already learned this was what I did right before something mattered.
“Hey,” she said.
I looked at her. “You’re not doing this alone anymore,” she said simply.
The words landed low and solid. I nodded once, my throat tight. “Okay.”
“Text me when you get there,” she added.
“I will.”
“And text me when you’re leaving,” she said.
I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”
Sawyer’s mouth twitched. “Don’t get cute.”
“I’m always cute,” I said, and she rolled her eyes like she didn’t hate it.
Then I left.
* * *
Dinner was at Lauren’s condo, which I had been to a thousand times.
Ashley was already there when I walked in, her shoes kicked off by the door and a glass of wine in one hand.
Lilly was curled up on the couch in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, her hair piled on top of her head in the way women only wore it around people they trusted.
All three of them looked up when I entered, and for one ridiculous second, I felt twelve years old again. Like I was about to announce something and they were going to decide whether I was allowed to be in the club.
“Addie!” Ashley squealed, pushing herself out of the armchair. “Hi!”
“Hey.” I set the bottle of wine on the counter. “Sorry I’m a minute late.”
Lauren waved a hand from the kitchen. “You’re never late. It’s suspicious.”
Lilly narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re also… twitchy.”
I laughed too high. “I’m not twitchy.”
Ashley tilted her head, studying me. “You’re a little twitchy.”
My cheeks heated. “Okay. Fine. I’m twitchy.”
Lauren walked toward me and lowered her voice like she thought I was about to confess to murder. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “Is this about the accident?”
Hearing her mention it did something small and sharp inside me.
“Everything’s okay,” I said quickly. “She’s okay.”
Lauren’s brows lifted slightly at the she, but Lilly’s gaze sharpened.
“Then what’s going on?” she asked.
I took a breath, set my purse down, and looked at the three of them.
My friends.
My history.
My people.
“I want to bring Sawyer to the wedding.”
There was half a beat of silence.
Then Ashley made a sound that was basically a cheer. “Oh my God!”
Lauren’s face lit up. “Yes.”
Lilly grinned like she had been waiting for this exact moment. “Correct.”
I blinked at them. “That’s… it?”
Ashley crossed the room and grabbed both of my arms. “Addison,” she said, laughing a little, “that’s not it. That’s huge.”
Lauren moved in next, all warmth and excitement. She wrapped me in a hug like she might burst if she didn’t. “I’m so happy for you,” she said into my hair.
I didn’t even get the chance to pretend I was fine. My eyes stung immediately.
Lilly stood and walked toward me, her expression softer than I was used to seeing. She cupped my face with both hands like I was the bride. Like I was the one who needed to be held together. “You’re doing it,” she said quietly. “I’m so proud of you.”
I swallowed, laughing and crying at the same time because apparently that was just my personality now. “I’m trying.”
“You don’t have to try,” Lilly said. “You are.”
Ashley stepped back and wiped beneath her eyes dramatically. “Stop. I’m going to cry, and I didn’t even do my makeup.”
Lauren pointed at me. “Okay, details. Who is she to you? Like…” She stopped and shook her head. “No. I know who she is to you. I mean, how long?”
“About three months. Right around the time I broke it off with Jason.” My voice softened without my permission. “And I’m in love with her.”
Ashley’s entire face melted. “Oh, Addie.”
Lauren smiled so widely it looked painful. “I can’t wait to meet her properly.”
“You will.” My stomach flipped as I said it out loud. “At the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.”
Lilly clapped her hands once, decisive as ever. “Great. We’re going to be normal.”
Ashley snorted. “We are not capable of normal.”
Lauren wagged a finger at her. “We can do normal. We can be cool.”
Lilly looked at me. “Do you want me to handle the scary part if anyone makes it weird?”
My throat tightened. “Maybe.”
She nodded once. “Done.”
The rest of the night passed in laughter, logistics, and a strange lightness that spread through my chest. It felt like I had been carrying something heavy for so long that I had forgotten what it was like to stand up straight.
We talked about table numbers, rehearsal timing, and what time I needed to be at the hotel the next day. But underneath all of it was a warm, steady thread of relief.
When I got back to Sawyer’s place, she was exactly where I had left her. Sling on. Pillows behind her. The television paused on Buffy because she had clearly been pretending she wasn’t waiting for me.
I stepped inside, and she looked up immediately. Her eyes scanned my face like she could read the outcome before I said a word.
“Well?” she asked.
I didn’t answer.
I crossed the room, carefully dropped to my knees beside the couch, and rested my forehead against her thigh like my body needed grounding before my mouth could catch up.
Sawyer’s hand slid into my hair, gentle and sure. “Addie?”
“They love you,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “They’re excited. They were…”
I laughed once, wet and shaky. “They were happier than I was ready for.”
Sawyer released a low breath that sounded relieved all the way through. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
She tilted my chin up with two fingers. “Come here.”
I leaned in and kissed her, slow and careful but full. Sawyer kissed me back like she had been holding her breath all evening.
“You okay?” she murmured when we pulled apart.
I nodded. “I’m lighter.”
Sawyer brushed her thumb beneath my eye. “Good.”
I stayed curled against her that night in the only position that didn’t hurt her shoulder. When she fell asleep, I watched her breathe, like some part of me still didn’t trust that safety could last.
“I’m so proud of you,” She said.
* * *
Friday came fast.
By the time the rehearsal dinner rolled around, I had already checked Sawyer’s medication schedule twice, helped her shower, and spent twenty minutes convincing her that she could not button a dress shirt one-handed just because she was stubborn enough to try.
“I almost had it,” she argued from the edge of the bed.
“You keep telling yourself that my love.” I rolled my eyes and stepped between her knees to fix it. “Hold still.”
Sawyer’s good hand settled against my hip while I worked my way up the shirt. She had chosen black trousers and a fitted black button-down, with a matching jacket she planned to wear open beneath her sling.
Even injured, she looked unfairly good. Her eyes stayed on my face while I finished the last button. “You’re nervous,” she said.
“No, I’m not.”
“Addie.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’m nervous.”
Her thumb moved over my hip. “They already love me, apparently.”
“They love the idea of you. Now they have to meet you.”
“Lucky them.”
I laughed despite myself and carefully helped her into the jacket before securing the sling over it. “There.” I stepped back to look at her. “How does that feel?”
“Like I’m wearing medical bondage to a formal event.”
“Bondage, hmm” I smirked.
“Addison.” She said in a warning tone.
I leaned down and kissed her gently. “Tell me if it starts hurting.”
“I will.”