“I have to say, you two are an adorable couple. I’m so happy we finally got a chance to meet you,” Becca says, and Elle nods in agreement.
I feel a slight smile pull at my lips and say thank you, but my chest hurts.
How did they meet? At a bar and through work. Like normal people.
“I have to pee. Again,” Elle says, holding her swollen belly and it’s funny, but I don’t laugh.
“Do you have to go, too?” Becca asks.
I do. But I’d rather not right now.
“No, you two go ahead. I’ll wait right here for you.” I smile back at them.
“Are you sure?” Becca asks.
“Of course, I’ll keep an eye out for the dessert tray for us.” I force out a happy tone. But I’m feeling more insecure than ever.
“You’re so sweet,” Elle answers, and turns to her right as someone calls out her name. She leans closer to me with a smile and says, “We’ll be right back to talk more.” She squeals at the end and it forces a smile from me.
But it’s forced nonetheless.
Everyone keeps calling me a sweet girl. Kane thinks I’m a good girl, but I’m not. None of them know me. Not the real me.
I’m not like these women. They’re strong, and obviously in love with their men. But they’re also normal. They aren’t ruined and broken beyond repair. My eyes fall, and I reach for the tall glass of champagne in front of me and put it to my lips. I taste the smallest bit on my tongue, but nausea keeps me from taking more into my mouth.
And they may already know who I am. What I’ve been through. They could be talking about it in hushed whispers in the bathroom right now.
Everyone at the wedding may know. They’ve been sweet to my face, but behind my back, what are they saying?
I’m sick of who I am. I’m sick of hiding it. I’ll never be okay. I’ll never heal. My eyes search the room and I find Kane by the bar. Talking and laughing. It’s genuine, not forced like me.
He deserves so much more.
Shame and guilt consume me.
He’s done so much for me; how can I treat him like this? All I do is lie to him and pretend to be someone I’m not. I can’t keep doing this. I set the glass down and lift the white linen napkin off my lap. As I place it on the table, I see the knife.
I casually slip the knife into my clutch and stand up.
No one will notice me leaving.
My heart clenches at the thought of Kane finding out. But it’ll be better this way. He deserves so much more than me. I’m so fucking selfish. I’ll keep lying to keep him. It’s wrong. I’m ruined and broken.
I’m not his good girl.
Kane
Where the hell is Ava going? I watch as a sliver of her dress vanishes behind the door. It closes slowly and I give it a moment before opening it as quietly as possible so she doesn’t hear me sneaking up on her.
I can’t imagine what she’s up to. She’s not from around here, so I don’t think she’d be doing anything but taking a look around. Still, it’s not wise. She should know that. You don’t go snooping around on mafia territory. It’s just not smart. I hear her heels clicking down the hall as I walk slowly to the corner. And then the noise is gone, replaced by the patter of her feet smacking against the tiled floor.
Maybe her feet are hurting her and she just needs some fresh air? My forehead wrinkles in confusion. She has to know I’d give them a little rubdown for her. I clench my jaw as I turn the corner. Something twists in my gut. This is off. Something’s just not right.
Ava’s my good girl. She never leaves to go anywhere without telling me. I clench my fists as I hear the large doors to the back entrance of the hall open with a soft creak. As my pace picks up, so does my heartbeat.
Adrenaline races through my blood. I catch the door just before it closes shut and open it as silently as I can. I peek out and see her walking into the edge of a line of trees to the left. I clench and unclench my hands. I want to pretend she’s going to be happy to see me when I get to her, but I’m not fucking stupid. That’s not going to happen.
Ava wouldn’t have gone off by herself like this if everything was okay.
I just need to find out what the fuck is going on.
I take a look to my left and then look to my right. No one’s out here. The night’s dark except for the light from the full moon. The air is crisp and feels cool against my skin. I can faintly hear her steps and the crunching of leaves and branches under her feet just beneath the sounds of the night. The crickets are loud as fuck.
I walk quickly and decide I don’t give a shit if she hears me as I enter the woods. I’m not gonna tiptoe through the trees to find out what my baby’s doing. As a branch cracks beneath my heavy steps, I catch a glimpse of Ava.
I see her silver dress sparkle with the barest hint of moonlight. I see her raise her wrist. Then I see a bright light. A reflection, just above her wrist. I don’t stop as my forehead creases in confusion. It doesn’t register as I speed up my pace to get to her.
Not until her eyes catch sight of me, which is the same moment that I snatch her wrist and yank it away. Her eyes widen and fill with fear. Her other arm lowers to her side and something drops to the ground with a loud thud. Her face pales and her eyes look at the ground.
My breath catches in my throat as I pull her body closer to me. She trembles in my embrace.
No. The reality hits me slowly.
No. This isn’t real. It can’t be.
“Ava?” She’s not looking at me. Her shoulders rise and fall as she takes in a ragged breath. “Baby, what are you doing?” Even as I ask the question though, I know. There’s a serrated knife on the ground by her feet. My heart twists in my chest with agony.
No. I close my eyes and brace myself against the tree next to her. My head feels light and dizzy. She was going to slit her wrist.
“Tell me this isn’t what it looks like,” I say with my eyes closed. I’m answered with silence. My chest hollows and my heart refuses to beat. My lungs refuse to fill.
“Why?” I ask, as I open my eyes and see her looking back at me with regret. “Why would you do--?” My voice cracks and my throat goes dry. I can’t finish it. The thought is just too fucked up. Why would she do that to herself?
She shakes her head and opens her mouth, but no words come out. I grip her shoulders in my hands and rest my forehead against hers.
This isn’t real. I keep my eyes closed, waiting for something. For anything to happen that wakes me from this horrific shit.
I love her. I would give her anything.
I thought she was happy.
I thought she loved me, too.
“I’m sorry.” Her breath hitches and her arms wrap around me.
Her touch is all I need. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me. I kiss her hair, her forehead. I cup her jaw in my hand and tilt her head so I can push my lips against hers. I need to feel her. I need to know she’s still with me.
At first there’s passion, but then she pulls back.
No. No. I can’t let her. She needs me.
Don’t pull away from me, Ava.
Her lips leave mine as her body moves away, and I’m greeted by the chill of the night.
“I’m sorry, Kane,” she says as she wraps her arms around her shoulders. I quickly rip off my jacket and wrap it around her slender frame. At first she resists, but she caves. She always caves to me.