Then why did I feel so terrible about it?
I sat down next to Kylie and gave her a small smile which she returned. Confliction churned my stomach. Mac said he hadn’t done it, insisted in the hallway. For a moment there, I’d almost believed him. I’d wanted to believe him. But then my heart had hardened and I’d turned away. Mac was just like all the others. He’d told me again and again that he didn’t do relationships. That he hated marriage. That he’d never settle down.
And earlier, before dinner, when he’d said that he’d wished I would have stayed? What was that? More smoke? Saying anything he could to get me back into his bed? Mac was the most confusing, frustrating person I’d ever met. And as mad as I was, I was devastated that I’d never hear that smoky voice again. See that lazy grin over me before he bent down and pressed his lips to mine. It was over.
“Could you put that out?” Jules interrupted the silence, glaring at Twain. Her infatuation with him seemed to have died after the fight in the limo.
Twain didn’t look away from the ceiling. “Yes, I could,” he said.
“Twain…” Keegan started.
“Keegan,” Twain said curtly.
“Stop.” That was Mason and they listened to him, even Jules. He turned away from the window and observed us all with those steely-gray eyes. “Twain,” he said finally. “Come with me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“I need help looking for Sam,” Mason said, cutting him off. “Come on.”
Twain didn’t argue. He stood and walked toward the door, flicking ash toward Jules’ foot as he walked by. She started to say something, but Keegan put his hand on her leg.
Mason stopped in front of me. “Go talk to Beck.”
“She wanted to be left alone.”
“Just try again.”
I nodded and he left after Twain. I felt all the eyes in the room follow me as I stood and walked into the hall, toward Beck’s bedroom.
I stopped in front of the closed door and steeled myself. After the initial violence in the restaurant, she’d been very quiet. The moment we’d gotten back to the room, she’d locked herself away, telling everyone to give her space.
It doesn’t hurt to try, I told myself. I knocked softly.
“Beck? It’s Alice. Can I come in?”
Silence.
I knocked again. “Do you need anything? Water? Chocolate? Something to punch?” I joked feebly.
The door opened slightly. Beck stared at me through the crack. I could tell that she’d been crying and all my conflicted emotions toward Mac turned to anger at the sight. How dare he make my best friend cry! And on the eve of what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Beck blocked the door for a moment, but then stepped aside and let me in. I followed her to the bed where she sat down heavily. I sat next to her, not sure what to say.
“I’m so sorry, Beck,” I tried. She didn’t say anything. I went on, just to fill the silence. “I should have told you everything sooner. He should have been gone after the Mariana thing. I feel responsible. I hope—”
Beck sighed, cutting me off. “Could you just stop, Alice,” she said.
I blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?” I asked, confused by her tone. She sounded angry, angry at me. “Mac—”
“I don’t care about Mac!” she said. “I never cared about Mac or anything he was doing.”
“But the wedding—”
“I don’t care about the wedding!”
I jerked back, stunned. Beck stared at me, eyes wide.
“Wait, are you and Sam…?”
She shook her head and stood up, walking to the window and then turning around. “No, of course not. I love Sam and he loves me. We’re good, better than good. And that’s exactly it. Nothing Mac could have done all week would have changed that.”
“But he was trying to destroy the wedding.”
Beck laughed without a hint of humor. “And I don’t give a shit about the wedding. I never have.”
I was at a loss for words. Never cared about the wedding? But what about all the work we did? All the planning, all the guests? I’d poured my heart and soul into this thing and she never cared?
“You don’t mean that,” I said firmly.
Beck shook her head and pressed her hands to her eyes. “Oh my god, Alice. I love you. You’re my best friend. But you’ve been making all of this way too much about yourself.”
I jerked like I’d been slapped. “What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, standing too. “I was doing this for you!”
“Were you?” Beck asked. “Because maybe if you were, you might have noticed that I wanted you by my side all week. This trip was supposed to be about spending time together. Our friends, as a group. And you’ve been off chasing Mac around for half the trip! I needed you here!”
“I was here,” I insisted. “I was here a lot. I’m sorry that I was looking out for your wedding day.” I couldn’t believe that after everything Mac had done, I was the bad guy.
“I never wanted this wedding!” Beck shouted. “I didn’t want to go to the other side of the world. I didn’t want to invite hundreds of people I barely know. I just wanted my friends. And Sam. And a simple ‘I do’ and maybe dinner afterward. This is all too much!”
Her voice cracked and tears fell down her cheeks. “Too many people, too much money, too much of a spectacle. I’m not this person, Alice. But I have to be. Because Sam is important and he has money and there were so many expectations from so many people and I wanted to tell you this but you’re so invested in this day! And if I can’t talk to you, I don’t know who else I have.”
My stomach was a hollow pit. This was what low felt like. She was right. Beck had been off all week and it wasn’t just pre-wedding jitters. My friend who’d always thrived on simplicity and functionality was feeling the pressure of marrying a billionaire businessman in a wedding she apparently never wanted but felt obligated to have.
And I was one of the people keeping the pressure on.
My hands dropped limply to my sides and all the outrage dissipated. “I’m so sorry, Beck,” I said. “I had no idea. But you’re right. I’ve been so invested in this wedding to distract myself. And then Mac… God, Beck, I’m sorry.”
She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, Alice. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just feeling very overwhelmed.”
I walked over and enveloped my friend in a hug. “Don’t worry about it. I think I needed to hear it. Trust me, I’m going to make this up to you. We’re going to work everything out.”
“I just want to go home,” Beck whispered into my shoulder. “I’m so tired of Mexico. I don’t think I have the energy for tomorrow. All those people…”
“It’s not too late to cancel.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that to Sam. He’s so excited.”
A knock sounded at the door. “Beck?” It was Sam. Apparently it hadn’t taken Mason and Twain long to find him at all.
“That’s him,” she said. She hurriedly wiped her face. “I don’t want him to know I’ve been upset.”