Page 111 of The Wedding Confession

“That’s better.”

I shake my head. Tatiana has my number, that’s for sure. Between her and Maria, I can’t even talk loud without a reprimand. It’s fine. Iought to know how to behave by now. I’ll get it right. Until then, they are right to treat me like a toddler.

But the cancellation means I have a blank space in my schedule, a small breather I can use to figure out what to do about Ensley.

Email her? Text her? Do I reach out at all? Despite Ronnie’s threats, I could let this go. Let Ensley go.

Sasha meows and sits prettily, her long white tail curled around her paws. I could send a picture. Take this full circle.

I open the drawer and pull out my cell phone. I don’t keep it on me during surgery. There are two notifications. One is from Franklin, warning me that Ronnie wants to visit and she’s pissed.

The second, well. Damn.

The second one is from Ensley.

I can barely swallow over the lump in my throat as I click through to read it.

Drew. You are not your father. Having one-night stands with lots of women doesn’t mean you are destined to be a cheater. You have choices. You can make different ones. Call me when you get your shit together.

I try to think how to reply. I type word after word, then delete each one. I take pictures of Sasha, thinking I’ll use her anyway.

But it doesn’t seem right.

I know who can tell me what to do. The only person who can really understand where I came from, what’s made me intome.

I scroll to the top of my contacts and press the button forMom.

She answers on the second ring. “Drew! I haven’t heard from you since Ronnie’s wedding. How was it?”

Now that’s a loaded question.

“It went fine.”

“Was Felicia as terrible as everyone thought she’d be?”

“Worse.”

Mom’s laugh trickles through me like raindrops on thirsty dirt. “You’re calling me during the workday. That’s not usual.”

I hesitate. What do I want to ask her? What is love? How did she still believe in it after everything Dad did?

When it all blew up, she told me she’d known all along, which helped alleviate my guilt. Only when she learned that Dad was blackmailing me did she finally decide to leave him. I lived with her until I graduated and left for Georgia Tech.

I don’t speak to my father. Probably never will again.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” Now her voice is dark with concern. “Did something happen?”

I clear my throat of any emotion. “How did you get past what happened with Dad?”

“What do you mean? The divorce? Going back to work?”

“No, emotionally, I mean. You’ve been dating. How do you trust anybody?”

“Well, I figure there can only be so many really bad characters.” Her voice lightens. “Surely I won’t get quite so unlucky twice.”

The harder question is on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t know how to ask it.

“Why are you asking me now? I always got the impression that you never wanted to talk about it.”