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And there he was—I could just see him around the corner, with an unmistakable female hand wrapped far too closely around his waist. I called his name, and I remember the shock and horror on his face as he turned, and the way he shoved her away. Lacy’s lipstick was smudged, and her face was smug as she walked past me into the school. She even had the audacity to give me a little wave.
I asked Sam what happened, and he said nothing. He just stared at the ground, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He wouldn’t say anything even though I screamed at him, even though I begged him to tell me what I saw wasn’t real. The only thing he did was to shake his head and say that he couldn’t say anything. I was gutted. I felt like someone had taken a saw and carved me open and my guts were spilling out on the ground, the same color of my dress.
I barely remember anything after that. I remember crying and being on the school’s bathroom floor, some of my friends with me. I remember Rose coming to get me, and I remember falling asleep, still in my dress. I tried to get Sam to talk to me a couple of more times, but he wouldn’t budge. That same stance, that same shake of his head, and then I let him go. I made a plan to cut him and his family out of my life forever.
Until Rose had to go and fall in love with his younger brother. Just my luck.
I wipe the remaining tears from my eyes and take a breath. I don’t understand why he won’t just admit it. That he cheated. If it was a mistake, it’s been ten years. And even though I’ll be pissed, I could get over it. If it’s something different, then I need it explained. Otherwise I’m going to have that horrible, brutal moment stuck in my head forever. Always wondering why I wasn’t enough. Always wondering how he got behind the school with Lacy. Always wondering why he’d make that decision.
Putting my car into drive, I pull back onto the road. I need to get back to my house and change before I’m supposed to meet Rose. And I desperately need to wash my face so it doesn’t look like I’m a drowned rat when I get there.
Rose knows something is up the minute I walk into the dress salon. I don’t know how. I went home and made sure my make-up was perfect so that absolutely no one would know that I’d been crying for a couple of hours.
“What happened?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She gives me a look. “That’s bullshit. Sam messaged me. He told me that you fought again, and that he’d like you to call him.”
I did notice that there were a few missed calls from him on my phone. I didn’t respond. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Seriously, Fiona, what happened?”
The girl from the salon approaches us at that moment and I get a glorious reprieve. I’m marched through the store and have to choose dresses I like that fit within Roses color scheme—silver and blue. Once I settle on a style and color she’ll pick a color for the rest of the bridesmaids. Since I’m the Maid of Honor, she wants me to be a little bit different. Armed with half a dozen dresses, our attendant ushers me into a fitting room while Rose lounges outside.
“I think you should call him,” she says.
“No.”
She sighs. “Didn’t we just talk yesterday about how you two were going to be civil to each other? That you were going to put all of it aside for the sake of the wedding or whatever?”
“Yeah, well we tried,” I say, wiggling into a navy blue gown that I think goes well with my skin tone. I push out of the fitting room and the attendant arranges me on one of those pedestals in front of mirrors, politely trying to ignore our obviously personal conversation.
I see her raise an eyebrow in the mirror. “When between yesterday and today did you have time to try?” She motions for me to spin, and I do. It’s a pretty dress, draped and empire waisted with a vaguely Grecian feel. It’s pretty, but I’m not stunned by it.
Doing my best to not meet her eyes, I say, “We had dinner last night. Agreed to have a truce about the whole thing. Give it a shot as if we’d never met each other.” I rush into the dressing room as I see her jaw drop and the attendant helps me out of the dress. I grab the robe that the salon has for in-between dresses, and I smile at her. “Do you think you could give us a couple of minutes.”
