Pretend We're Over (Pretend 2)

Boden even opens his mouth and is about to snatch the drink from his friend when Sebastian tosses his champagne back in one gulp.

Oaklee smiles like she just got Sebastian to drink poison, before finishing her bottle.

I can’t help but feel like I’ve been left out of something very important, as Oaklee lowers the partition and tells the driver to head to the hotel.

5

Sebastian

I broke my sobriety.

I had a drink.

Champagne.

God, I can’t believe that champagne is what I broke my sobriety with. That stuff was disgustingly sweet. I swipe my tongue around my mouth, trying to dispel the liquid there, but there is no use. I’m going to taste the disgusting sweetness judging me forever.

I should have said something, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. The way Oaklee was looking at me with a vengeance. She knows why I don’t drink; I’m a recovering alcoholic. She knows I run a freaking recovery center for goodness sakes. But she blames me for Boden’s actions.

Maybe she has a right to—I’m Boden’s best friend after all. I should have said something. Put a stop to his idiocy, or told him to call off the wedding.

But I didn’t.

Although, I didn’t do what she’s accusing me of either. Last night, I left shortly after Millie did—close to midnight. The party went on until three or four in the morning. I don’t know what Boden did, but I wasn’t there. I wasn’t by his side, but I sure didn’t have another woman’s tongue down my mouth. The only tongue I want is currently sitting a few feet away from me, fuming.

Millie seems sweet and kind, but the glares she’s shooting my direction tell me not to ignore what she would do for her friend. I’m the enemy, and she will toss a grenade my way if I’m not careful.

So I took my punishment. I drank the alcohol. I ended over a decade of perfect control. I’ve seen addicts fall off the wagon before—when the pain got to be too much, when the cravings became too strong, when the peer pressure got to them, and they thought one drink wouldn’t cause them to backtrack. I’ve never seen any of them be able to take one drink and not go all in. That’s why they call it an addiction. We can’t stop after just one.

I’ll have to deal with the consequences for myself later, whatever they are. However big the setback, this is just a setback. I won’t let it become anything more.

Oaklee finishes her bottle, satisfied that I served my punishment. Thank God there was only one bottle of champagne in the limo. She’d have me chug a bottle to get back at me if she could. It’s not a mystery why she’s taking her anger out on me instead of Boden. She may hate what he did, but she still loves him. Being mad at me doesn’t hurt her. Being mad at Boden changes her entire life. Once they talk, they will realize there is nothing to fix. Boden doesn’t love her the way she deserves.

Fuck marriage.

Marriage is an antiquated institution in today’s age. We don’t need to be legally tied to another person to raise kids or show our love. Love rarely lasts a lifetime anyway.

Marriage is something we do to make ourselves feel better. To pretend that our significant other will never leave us, no matter how big of an ass we act like. They are trapped, stuck with us forever. It’s all a lie. People have no problem getting divorced; the only hold up is the paperwork. But that isn’t enough to keep people together.

Marriage doesn’t work—Oaklee just figured that out before it was too late. No amount of pretty dresses, fancy gifts, or playing princess for a day was enough for her to go through with it in the end.

After some rude directions from Oaklee, the limo pulls up in front of the Paris hotel. I didn’t know where the happy couple was staying tonight, but I guess it makes sense that the Paris hotel seemed like the most romantic choice to them.

I step out of the limo, and Boden follows me. He looks straight ahead as he walks inside and up to the front desk to check-in without a word.

Oaklee and Millie enter next. Oaklee rips her veil from her head as she enters the lobby and looks around at all the people staring at her. Even in Vegas, people still stare at a woman in a big fluffy white dress.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Oaklee says, marching toward the bar.

Millie nods but doesn’t follow her. Instead, she stomps over to me.

“This is all your fault,” Mille says, pushing a finger into my chest. One little touch sends zings through my body, firing me up, making me want her more. She’s so bossy and determined and…

“Did you just growl at me?” Millie folds her arms and takes a step back. I can see the heat in her eyes. I may not have noticed the sound I made involuntarily, but her body sure did. I let my eyes glide down her. Her nipples have pebbled, her eyes heated, and she’s biting on her lip aggressively like she’s angry at herself for finding me attractive.

I smile wide. “I most definitely did. Want to hear me do it again?” I make a bold move, swiping my hand through her hair and gripping her neck to pull her closer.

For a moment, her body takes control instead of her mind. She lets me hold her. Lets me pull her until our bodies are flush against each other.