Page 82 of Wag More Bark Less

“And what is the point, exactly?”

“That I have a break from my incredibly lovable but currently overbearing family after being cooped up with them on this road trip for eleven days, and I’m choosing to spend it with my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister,” I said flatly.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t be demoted.”

“You’re just saying that because I can no longer downgrade you from being my maid of honor.”

“Hey, I think I’m going above and beyond my maid of honor duties by making sure you don’t let yourself fall into ruin. I’m supporting your glow-up. If anything, I should get a promotion.”

“That glow-up could’ve started with a pedicure, or something less painful,” I pointed out.

“Why? It’s not like I can see my toes anyway.”

As I scrolled through my phone, a calendar reminder ironically popped up for bridal mani-pedis. I panicked, searching my memory for whether I’d canceled that appointment. But then I remembered Luanne did that for me so she could book somewhere more upscale. It was just one of the many pre-wedding activities she hijacked.

“Hey, talk to me, Noles.”

I wanted to brush it off, but Violet would stubbornly push until I broke.

“We were supposed to be getting our nails done right now.”

I waited for tears to prick the corners of my eyes, but they didn’t surface. The wedding I called off would’ve happened tomorrow had I just swallowed my pride and found a new dress. Oddly, that was the one thing Luanne never offered to pay for.

“On a scale from ready to jump off a cliff to three margaritas in and giving zero shits, where are you?”

“Do you think it’s weird that I’m more heartbroken over a dress than my actual engagement being called off?”

“It’s not about the dress, Noles. But I think you know that.”

An esthetician called our names before I could fully process what my sister was saying, but whispers of the truth came to me during our walk down the narrow, dark hallway. If we hadn’t passed doors labeled massage room, I’d be a little leerier about the lighting situation.

The dress was only thing in that whole damn wedding that was mine. The only element that felt like Maggie Holland. Because the insanely expensive out-of-season peonies, the herb-crusted rack of lamb with rosemary jus, and the elaborate castle-style venue were all Luanne. She had seen that dress as a threat to her vision.

And when she eliminated said threat, Jason took her side.

“Go ahead and disrobe from the waist down,” the esthetician instructed after showing us to our room. “You can cover up with the towels on your table. I’ll be back with my partner momentarily to get started.”

“Last chance to chicken out,” Violet said to me, causing the esthetician to pause in the doorway.

“I’m already here,” I said. “Might as well bite the bullet.”

“If you don’t want to do this⁠—”

“It’ll be good for me,” I said, kicking off my shoes and tucking them beneath a chair. “Ironic, but good.”

“What’s ironic about having your pubes ripped out with your baby sister?”

“If I’d gone through with the wedding, a Brazilian would’ve been wasted.”

“You really think Jason wouldn’t have slept with you on your wedding night?” Violet asked.

I slipped off my jeans and panties, folding them before I set them on the chair.

“Probably not. Luanne booked the room right next to the bridal suite. Considering he refused to touch me if she was anywhere in the house, there’s no way the wedding night would’ve been anything but disappointing.”

“I love my boys to death. I’d upend mountains for them. But I would not, under any circumstance, ever book a room with a shared wall on their wedding night. What the fuck is wrong with that woman? She needs to have her head examined.”