CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Sweetheart!” Serena called, long legs eating the rest of the distance.
Jesse’s eyes briefly met mine over her shoulder as she threw her arms around his neck.
My grip tightened around the strap of my purse and I shared a look with Georgie.
She looked hopeless, her wide gaze flitting between them and back to me, cheeks already flushed by the grotesque kiss the couple shared.
I cleared my throat. They seemed unable to hear me over the sound of gnashing teeth and swapped saliva. I cleared my throat again, ready to hurl the nearest water glass at his head.
When they finally broke apart, Serena at least had the good sense to look a little embarrassed by the spectacle. Any longer, and I was sure there’d be a workplace accident—either from a distracted server or from me personally hurling Jesse through the nearest window.
“I thought it would just be us,” I started, eye twitching as he smirked and wiped his lips. “Girls’ day, remember?”
Serena sighed the sigh that told me she had mentally disappeared to wherever real-life Disney princesses vacationed. “I didn’t know he’d be here, I promise. But now that he’s here…”
Jesse wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she placed a hand on his chest. Her rock glinted in the light.
The picture-perfect country club bride and groom.
I swallowed thickly. No point in hiding my annoyance—something told me Jesse was well aware that I didn’t like him—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it entertained him.
“Well, I’m going to call a taxi home,” I replied, turning to Georgie. “You’re welcome to come with me.”
Serena frowned. It tugged unnaturally on her features. “I didn’t realize it would upset you, but you’re right. Honey, would you mind if we just had a private lunch?”
The droop of his lips told me all I needed to know.
“It’s perfectly all right, S,” Georgie blurted, “It’s your wedding week, after all. The bride and groom should have lunch alone together. Right, Margot?”
I sucked in a sharp breath and forced myself to nod. Georgie frequently saved me with her uncanny ability to feign a smile and find a positive where there was none. So, maybe they could work out my thoughts from my expression—but I didn’t need to say them out loud.
Candice would call that progress.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Jesse breathed without a glance at either of us.
It occurred to me then that he hadn’t even said hello.
I clapped my hands together, the universal signal for I’m-going-to-leave-and-don’t-know- what-to-say.
Serena jumped into action. She bestowed us both with a tight hug and a long-winded apology, swearing to see us both before the rehearsal dinner.
I thought that if Jesse had a say—which he always did—that promise wasn’t going to come true.
Outside, I dragged in two lungfuls of brine, squeezing my eyes shut for a second to relish the sound of waves lapping over rocks and the distinct lack of Jesse’s saccharine voice.
“He’s just terrible,” I finally muttered, tapping my phone to hail us a ride.
Georgie shifted on her feet and wrung her hands together. “He was… interesting.”
“You can be honest.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “He might be the worst person I’ve ever met.”
I snorted. “Dot included?”
“Oh, she’s just a little old lady. That— that was different.”
“Yeah, that was the consequence of generational billions and no one ever rejecting him.” I squinted at the eavesdropping valet guy until he dipped his chin and proceeded to look busy.
Georgie blanched. “Billions?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose as a throbbing headache appeared. No part of me was excited for a few hours in a taxi after skipping lunch. Still better than the alternative, I supposed.
“I researched him after we all got dinner together a couple years ago,” I replied.
Her brows drew together. “Hold on— you never told me that.”
“Guess it never came up.”
Truthfully, it faded from my memory until he barreled back into our lives this week. Even after, though, I had no plans to tell her.
The guilt had been growing ever since I found out Serena was engaged.
When we met in New York, I was too wrapped up in my own world—the deadlines, the publishing hustle, the scramble to secure my footing—to care much about who my childhood friend was dating.
After all, we hadn’t seen each other since Marigold’s funeral, and some stubborn part of me was certain they’d never last. Why would the kindest, most soft-spoken person I knew stay with someone so openly awful?
Before I could process any of that, they were engaged and planning a wedding for the end of the week.
To top it off, she made me a bridesmaid.
Everything in me wanted to shake Serena by the shoulders and dispel the cold, hard truth—but I couldn’t. And it would soon drive me insane.
When our taxi arrived, I gave the driver a smile and sank back into my seat. Head lolled to the side, I cracked the window and shut my eyes, beginning to see the appeal in a long, silent drive. At nearly a hundred and fifty dollars, I was going to try enjoying it.
“We should tell her,” Georgie said suddenly, voice low. “Don’t you think?”
I sent her a sidelong glance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled, knowing she could hear the lie.
“About Jesse. That he’s… not good for her.”
That was a nice way of saying, “the most vile person I ever had the misfortune of meeting”.
I sighed. “Do you really think that’s our place? We’ve barely talked to her for seven years, Georgie. Honestly, I don’t even know why she asked us to be bridesmaids.”
“She kept up with me for the first few years,” she replied with a sniff.
Right. I was the only friend awful enough to disappear from Bluebell Cove with no plans of ever looking back. That fact really came back to bite me these past couple months.
The two of us were much better than when I first came home, but every once and a while, a reminder of that gap of time between us would crop up.
Maybe I’d forget an idiosyncrasy of hers, like the way she hated tea with a passion and vastly preferred a cup of hot chocolate.
Minute things that seemed insignificant, but flashed a glaring red against eighteen years of friendship.
I acted as if I didn’t notice, even if each time she remembered a detail and I didn’t, the guilt swelled deep in my stomach.
After a tense silence, Georgie added, “Can we really watch them get married?”
“It’s too late,” I replied, sounding as dejected as I felt. “What are we supposed to do? Object?”
“We could talk to her.”
I watched as the brick and glass of Port Camden disappeared outside, giving way to a lazy highway swathed by trees and farmland. A beautiful day, if I wasn’t fighting this gnawing sensation.
“You could talk to her,” I finally said.
My chest tightened sharply and I winced.
“I’ve seen women get sucked up by guys like this.
They’re charismatic, flirtatious, and shower you with gifts and affection until they have you hooked.
By the time it all stops, it’s too late.
And no one—no matter what they say—can make you see reason. ”
Georgie chewed on my words as a biting wind whipped through the window and I rolled it up.
“Maybe I’ll talk to her,” she murmured.
I shrugged. “Okay. Just remember she has to unhook herself.”
Halfway through the car ride, Georgie had fallen asleep—an impressive accomplishment for the bumping road and hum of the engine. I watched her with some level of bitterness, having flashbacks to a night spent with her elbows in my ribs and her dog on my legs.
On the bright side, losing my beauty sleep left me with an entire evening to dwell on everything I’d been avoiding.
Not Teddy—him I was still dodging at every turn—but the idea of confronting my estranged father and finally saying what I’d swallowed for years.
The thought grew more tempting by the hour.
With an unexpected free evening, I knew exactly what I was going to do.