Chapter 33
I wake up to the weight of Hudson’s arm draped over me, the tickle of his beard against my neck, and the I love you I never expected still wrapped around me like a warm hug.
I should have said it back. I wanted to. But there is still a remnant of fear lingering in my chest. To let someone in, to trust completely, is harder than I thought it would be, since the last time someone made promises to me they turned out to be hollow.
Rolling over, I check my phone and remember the email. The one still waiting for me in my inbox.
“Mmm,” Hudson groans, sleepily kissing my shoulder as his hold against my stomach tightens, pulling me back to bed. His mouth moves against my bare skin, planting light kisses along my collarbone, my neck, but when he moves to my lips, I hold up a hand in protest.
“I need to brush my teeth.”
“You don’t need to move from this bed,” he says, pushing my hand away and kissing me for real.
As much as I want to lie here and let him have me, I only have an hour to get my gear together, and head to Meredith’s to start the getting-ready photos.
“I have to go to work,” I reason, before I see the bruises on Hudson’s fingers and the memory of last night hits me like a gut punch.
In college, Meredith always said that she’d want the truth no matter how bad it hurt.
That she’d rather face a problem than tiptoe around it, and I know that I can’t let her walk down that aisle without making her own decision, even if it’s to my detriment.
“I have to tell her,” I say, hoping that Hudson might talk me out of it. That he will offer me an alternative solution. But he nods in understanding.
“We can tell her together,” he says, threading his hand through mine, bringing my knuckles to his lips. And the sincerity in his eyes makes me want to shout: I love you too.
“I’ll back you up. Whatever you need.”
My heart leaps at the idea of having him by my side for all the hard moments in my life. And although I’m grateful for his support, I know that this is something I need to do by myself.
“I think it might be better coming from me.”
“Are you sure?”
I give him a soft kiss and slip out of bed. I take a long, hot shower, my first of the trip, and put on my own clothes—a pair of black jeans and an oversized black button-down—and head over to Meredith’s cabin.
Upbeat, pop music blasts from the Bluetooth speakers as I climb the stairs and peek inside Meredith’s room.
There’s the frantic, pre-wedding energy in the air, with everyone in various stages of undress.
Jocelyn is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a light-up vanity as she applies foundation to her skin, and Vanessa is plaiting her hair in a loose braid, giving me a bright smile when I make my way into the room.
Katherine is steaming the bridesmaids’ gowns—mismatched floral dresses with embroidered embellishments.
She doesn’t look at me, diverting her gaze as she focuses on the fabric in her hand, and I’m baffled by how she can stand in this room right now.
Ignoring her, I head straight for Meredith, who is sitting in a chair by the window. Her hair is pinned up in rollers and there are purple eye masks adhered to the delicate skin underneath her eyes.
“How are we feeling this morning?” I ask in a voice way more chipper than how I actually feel.
“I got my iced coffee. I got my girls. I finally got service on my phone. Life is good.”
I stare at her, trying to think of an excuse to get her alone, when she hops up from her chair as if she’s forgotten something.
“You need my details, right?” she says, gathering a pair of white espadrille sandals, seashell jewelry, a sandalwood-scented perfume. Her dress, a crocheted two-piece with bell sleeves, hangs on a wooden hanger on the window frame.
“I put my jewelry and some knick-knacks in here,” she says, handing me a plastic box. “There’s a letter from Grant in there as well. I waited to open it. I thought maybe you could get a photo of me reading it.”
My stomach tightens at the suggestion.
“Did he give it to you this morning?” I ask, wondering what excuse he’s offered for why he came home sporting a black eye.
“Nope! He had Jocelyn messenger it over from the barn. They’re all getting ready over there. We decided to do the whole one-last-night-apart thing. His idea, of course. He’s so much more of a traditionalist than me.”
All my instincts tell me to keep my mouth shut, to smile and nod, and pretend I didn’t catch the groom wrist-deep in the maid of honor, but staring at my friend, I let my courage win.
“You know, Mere. I’d love to get your opinion on bridal party photo locations, since we’ll be doing them on site. Do you have a second to run downstairs with me?”
“Totally,” she beams, and follows me down the stairs. I wait until the moment we’re out of earshot before I rip off the proverbial Band-Aid.
“I have to tell you something.”
Her face falls. “Oh God, is it the bakery? They promised me they could make a vegan cake shaped like our dog, but I didn’t believe them.
The consistency isn’t conducive to sculpting, or at least that’s what another bakery told me,” she says, taking a deep breath.
“If it looks like a mutant, maybe we can have cupcakes instead. I’m not really sold on the whole feeding each other thing, but . . .”
“It’s not the cake,” I reply.
Her eyebrows furrow in contemplation. “What is it?”
“Mere,” I say, grabbing her arm to hold her attention. “I hate to do this, today of all days, but I would feel like shit if I didn’t say anything. And I get it if you don’t believe me, but I have to tell you . . .”
The words come out too quickly, and Meredith stares at me with a concerned expression.
“I saw Grant and Katherine hooking up in the bathroom last night.”
I take a wary step back, my nails in my palms, waiting for her response. I expect screaming, crying, or a rare burst of violence. But I don’t expect laughter.
I consider that it might be a shock response. I’ve heard about people who find themselves hysterically giggling in uncomfortable situations with no ability to control it. But then her expression turns serious.
“Oh my God. Mira. No,” she says, consoling me. “Grant and I have an open relationship.”
The admission is so unexpected that I have to take a seat on the edge of the couch.
“You do?”
She nods, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Grant asked me last night, before they did anything. That’s the rule. We have to ask for permission, but I was with Derrick so . . .”
“Oh,” I say, letting the reality of it sink in.
“I’m so sorry. I know that must have been awkward.”
“I just . . . I thought . . .”
“I know it’s unconventional, but with my background, I think life’s too short not to allow yourself the things you want. Sometimes it’s dessert for breakfast or flying to the middle of nowhere to get married, and sometimes it’s to fuck the hot bartender.”
This time it’s my turn to laugh.
“I’ve never wanted to be confined by the traditional ideals of marriage, and Grant gets that about me.
He loves me for it. I didn’t want to stop living my life to the fullest, and nor did he.
We’re honest and never take the other person for granted.
He will always put me first, and vice versa, and at the end of the day, that’s enough. ”
It makes sense. Even in college Meredith broke a lot of hearts by never wanting to commit. And honestly, I’m happy that she’s found someone that understands her lifestyle choices.
“I figured someone would find out eventually. It’s not like we’re discreet. We go out on dates with other people all the time,” she offers, leaning back on the couch. “Honestly, I’m more shocked Katherine got Hudson to agree.”
I bite my lip, not sure if this is my secret to tell. Meredith senses my apprehension and points a finger at me. “You know something.”
“They broke up.”
“Really?” Meredith gasps.
“A while ago.”
“How do you know?” she asks, inquisitively.
“Between you and me, I’m pretty sure Hudson and I are dating now.”
Meredith takes a beat, eyes widened. “When did this happen?”
“Uh. Technically we’ve been talking for months, but officially yesterday.”
“Wait. So last night. His speech. That was about you?” she asks, realization washing over her.
“Yeah, I guess it was.”
“I have so many questions,” Meredith says, resting her head on her hands.
“When it’s not your wedding day, I’ll be happy to answer them,” I say, pushing myself off the couch.
“I do want to know the answer to one though.” She turns to face me, a quiet reflection on her face as I ready myself to regale her with tales from the lake, or the rehearsal dinner, or Finn’s, but she asks, “Why did you think I wouldn’t believe you?”
The question catches me off guard as unease works its way through my body. “I had to tell someone a similar truth and it didn’t go as well.”
“Oh, honey,” Meredith says, wrapping me in her arms. “Is that who wrote that review?”
“You saw that?” I cringe.
“I looked up your account the other night to make sure I had the right number. And it popped up. I thought who the hell would say something like that. But if that person didn’t want to see the truth, that’s their burden. Not yours.”
Meredith rests a steady hand on mine, gripping it tightly.
“You’re a good person, Mira. And an even better friend.
You came to me because you care and didn’t want to see me make the wrong choice, and that’s admirable.
That takes strength. I’m so fucking grateful I have you on my side, and here with me this week.
I want you to know you can always come to me, okay.
About anything. And I’ll always hear you out. ”
Her words simultaneously rip me open and stitch me back up as I fight back the pricking behind my eyes.
“Oh no,” Meredith says, standing up to wrap her arms around me. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I’m sorry,” I sniffle against her cotton robe. “I think I just need a minute. Is that okay?”