“Not even a little. Let me ask you something.” A rictus smile marred her face. Taunting and angry and wrong. Like it had been painted in blood. She slithered toward me, like a snake about to strike. Panic clogged my throat. “Remember when you dropped out of high school? When you were pregnant? And everybody at school taunted me, stuffed my locker with condoms, and called me names because of you? How I had to eat my lunch in the restroom because I didn’t want to be harassed?”
“I remember,” I swallowed.
My whole body reacted to that memory. Hot tar spread inside my stomach. Sweat beads began forming on my brow.
She stopped behind a chair across from me, gripping the back of it. Mom stood between us in the kitchen, looking to and fro, unsure how to stop what was unraveling before her eyes.
“And remember when Bear was born and cried all night, every night, and you were losing it, and Mom and Dad had work early in the morning, so I volunteered to take care of him half the night, thaw breast milk for him, cradle him while you were catching up on sleep?”
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
Because she had done all those things.
She was just a child herself, full to the brim with compassion. It was us against the world. At least until Wyatt Costello had come into the picture and her need to ensure her future would be different from mine overrode her love for me.
And she hadn’t thrown any of it in my face until now.
“And remember when Bear needed that ear surgery, and you didn’t have the money, and I gave you all my savings from my summer job at the Children’s Ministry?”
The question was answered with a weak nod from me. I closed my eyes, trying to draw a deep breath, but to no avail.
I wanted the floor to crack open and swallow me whole. To disappear from the face of the earth, I was so ashamed of what I’d put everyone through. And of my selfishness, for yet again doing as I pleased.
For conducting this pointless affair with Cruz.
Who cared why she didn’t like us as a couple?
She was allowed to ask me for this after everything she’d done for me. It wasn’t like Cruz and I ended up together in real life anyhow.
“One thing is for sure—I was always on your side, Nessy. Always did things for you. Always helped you out. I wouldn’t let anyone talk badly about you.” Trinity’s eyes filled with tears. I didn’t correct her and explain that even if her friends didn’t talk sheet about me to her face, they did so behind her back and sometimes to my face. “So what I want to know now, my dear sister, is why couldn’t you abide by my one rule, my simple request, my plea to you not to ruin my wedding?”
My mother gasped loudly and clutched her (numerous) pearls. She was wearing a lot of jewelry today and reminded me a bit of Mrs. Warren. “What do you mean, Trinity?”
“This whore you raised,” my sister pointed at me accusingly, raising her voice, “is sleeping with my maid of honor’s boyfriend.”
“He is not her boyfriend!” I cried out, hating that I sounded desperate. “Cruz and Gabriella aren’t together.”
“They’re on a break!” Trinity yelled from across the table. “Gabriella’s beside herself. She said she might not be in the proper mental state to make it to the wedding!”
Wow.
I could see this coming from a hundred miles away, blindfolded and without a map. Maybe I was selfish, but so was Gabby.
“You’re sleeping with Cruz Costello?” My mother choked on the revelation, and a piece of raw cauliflower.
“Some break it is. He won’t take any of her calls and crosses the street when he sees her!” I roared back at my sister, attempting not to come across as the biggest pushover on planet Earth.
“That’s because you’re poisoning him against her.” Trinity was crying now, tears running down her face. “The entire town knows! Gabriella is humiliated.”
“Are you sure I’m the one who is using poison as a method?” I chuckled incredulously, hiding all the pain behind laughter because I’d washed my armor off my face. “Because your so-called best friend just told you she might not be your maid of honor, and also dropped by the other day to call me a homewrecker and threaten to ruin my life.”
“How can she ruin your life when you’ve already done such a fantastic job of it all by yourself?” Trinity snorted out.
“My life is not ruined!” I banged my fist on the table. “I have a son that I love and a family I would die for, if you haven’t noticed. Maybe I could have a better job, but at least I’m not so desperate to quit mine that I’m marrying a man with the emotional maturity of a grapefruit who pretty much ignores my existence.”
“Nessy!” My mother cupped her mouth. “For shame! Wyatt is a lovely man.”
“Wyatt barely knows your names.”
“Take that back,” Trinity ordered, barking at me.
“Even if I did, it wouldn’t make it any less true!”
Trinity charged toward me, bitch-slapping me so hard, so zealously, my face flew in the other direction and my opposite cheek slammed against the kitchen cabinet.
For the first few seconds, I couldn’t feel anything. Then the burn began spreading everywhere, like wildfire.
My jaw.
My eyes.
My nose.
My soul.
I turned my head, staring my sister dead in the eye.
This was my time to stand up to my family like Cruz had been telling me to, over and over again.
To tell them that, in fact, I was allowed to date whomever I wanted.
That my life wasn’t over or less meaningful than theirs.
That I was not a complete screw-up, and that even though they’d been there for me through thick and thin, I deserved not only their help and guidance, but also respect. I’d been there for them, too.
But the words, all the words that I’d had to tell Trinity and my mother, got stuck in my throat when I thought about everything I could lose.
Bear’s grandparents, whom he loved so dearly.
And Auntie Trinity, who took him into the city every year before Christmas for some serious shopping and made him his favorite key lime pies for Thanksgiving, even though absolutely nobody else loved those horrible custards.
I thought about potentially losing the only constant thing in my and my son’s life, for a man who was great—perfect, even—but ultimately, just a man.
And I froze.
“Well?” Trinity spat into my face, her teeth clenching against her words.
My mother moved beside her, lacing their arms.
They had an alliance. They were a fully formed unit, and I wasn’t a part of them.
I took a step back.
“Call it off with Cruz,” Trinity said. “Or I won’t have a maid of honor.”
“Your maid of honor hates you,” I said simply, my voice tiny, and resigned, and not completely mine. “Haven’t you noticed she does nothing for you other than getting the desired title of a maid of honor? She scares you so much you just slapped your own sister to make a point.”
“Gabriella deserves Cruz. She worked hard to get him and had him, too. They just need time to figure things out,” Trinity said defensively, calming down a little. “And anyway, what do you think’s gonna happen? He’s gonna go on to marry you or something? Quit dreamin’, Nessy, and just do the smart thing for once in your life. Have some self-respect for once in your life. Oh, and before you leave.” Trinity turned around, kicking the goodie bag box between us toward me. “Make sure nothing is broken. The last thing I need is to give my guests broken glass in a cellophane wrap because of you.”