Page 33 of The Killer Card

No, brain, I can’t. Leave me alone.

The truth is that I did look at him. Through the window. I looked at him for a long time while he hung his head beneath the faucet in the kitchen. Guilt is a new feeling for me, and it was strong as fuck while I witnessed his anguish. I told myself it’s better this way. We only need to get through a few more days and then we can go back to our separate lives.

He’s better off without me.

The lunch Nelly set up is more like a tea at this cute café in the center of the local town. There are little sandwiches and pastries, and we drink coffee or tea from the cutest porcelain mugs. There’s talk about our dresses and the flowers, and Nelly shows us the flower girl crown on her phone. It’s cute as shit of course, perfect for Elias’ little niece who we’ve all seen a dozen pictures of in the group chat and on the wedding website. I can’t blame Nelly for being so obsessed with Elias’ exceptionally large family considering the one she’s coming from.

“Oh my god!” Clara bursts, snatching Nelly’s phone. “Stop, no, this is so fucking cute! God, you’re making me so jealous. Do I need to renew my vows?! I need to renew my vows…”

“Stop,” Nelly laughs, taking back her phone. “Your wedding was perfect, Clare Bear. It was spontaneous and sweet and everything you and Rowan wanted at the time. If Elias wasn’t such a huge fucking deal we’d probably do the exact same thing.”

I raise a brow and my teacup. “If Elias wasn’t such a big deal or if you weren’t such a snob?”

“I am not a snob!” Nelly protests while Clara and Ivelisse giggle. “I just have taste.”

“We all do,” I remind her. “But your taste tends to run a couple thousand dollars higher than either of ours.”

Everything about the wedding is the exact opposite of the one Vivian and her mother planned for her. The entire goal of this one is to capture the essence of Nelly’s soul, her passion for Elias, and run it straight into the sun. Her dress is lace with colorful flowers woven from the bodice to sprinkle down the skirts. The veil just long enough that she won’t fear tripping. A month-long search turned up gorgeous blue tulle shoes, and her outfit for the reception is a romper that sparkles no matter what light it’s under. There will be Latin music and Elias promised her he’ll sing.

It’s going to be the most magical day of her life.

Which is why I can’t let it be ruined by my petty bullshit with Graham and his overdramatic groveling. Avoidance thy name is Naomi this week.

Luckily, the next destination Nelly planned for the day is a wine bar. So, after Ivelisse says her goodbyes, I watch as my friends manage to get so drunk they forget the time. We stay out late enough that by the time I get them safely to the cabin, there’s already a bonfire going and the smell of cigars wafting up from down by the lake. I excuse myself to my room while Clara and Nelly grab sweaters with the full intention of staying in for the night.

Of course, there is still a knock at my door around eleven from the drunk bride asking if I want to join them at the bonfire. I pretend to be asleep when she peeks in, forcing my lungs to expand slowly, the blankets rising up and down with my shoulders.

“She’s already asleep,” I hear her tell Elias in the hall. “Close the windows so the noise doesn’t wake her.”

I close my eyes tight. Guilt is such a bitch the way she pinches my heart in the most uncomfortable places. Why does she have to be so fucking sweet? I’m a terrible fucking friend. This is her wedding week. I should get up. I should suck up my anxiety and go be with my best friend on the eve eve eve eve of her wedding.

But I don’t. I stay curled up in a tight ball beneath my covers, listening to the muffled sounds of Elias singing, Nelly and Clara laughing, and the rumble of a voice just sinful enough to make me question every choice I’ve ever made.

4 Years Ago

Chapter Ten

Graham

It’s exhibition night at The Pink Flamingo.

This is one of my favorite events, even though it’s not one I typically participate in. The spotlight as never been my thing. Like most members, I prefer to watch. Which was my full intention tonight- I even picked a yellow wristband this time- until I had my drink in hand and was looking for a place to sit and enjoy the show.

It’s then that I catch sight of a long, sable arm thrown across the back of a couch, wrist adorned in a purple circlet. I make a beeline for the empty seat next to her, actually shoving someone in the process- I apologize, calm down- and tucking my own bracelet into my sleeve.

Why didn’t I just go with my gut and choose pink?

I came here hoping to see her again. It’s been my only ambition for weeks now and I have chosen pink every other time before. But after a third night of disappointment, I’d decided I wanted to be alone.

Not anymore.

“Is this seat taken?”

Naomi doesn’t look up at me, taking a long sip of her wine as she draws her arm back from the cushion. An open invitation for me to take it. I do, maybe too quickly. I’m much too eager to be next to her, to be absorbed in the hyacinth cloud of her perfume. I have to adjust myself as I sit down and her eyes remain fixed on the stage where nothing but a chair and a stack of rope wait for the evening’s performance.

“You haven’t been around lately.” Not here for at El Rincón, but that’s implied.

“Nelly is struggling,” she tells me around the rim of her glass. “Clara and Cristian have her tonight.”