“What’d he say, exactly?”
“Only that I shouldn’t tell you that he said anything—oops—and that Cruz was kind of bummed about it, I guess.”
“Really?” I asked thirstily. “Did he look broken to you?”
“No.”
“Did he cry?”
Bear stared at me like I was insane.
I was insane.
“No.”
“Well, now.” I sniffed, tilting my chin up. “Guess he’ll survive, then. Dr. Costello is a very sought-after man.”
A sought-after man who stayed true to his word and hadn’t contacted me since he gave me an ultimatum and I blew it.
Bear gave me a pitiful look.
Heartbreak was so miserably horrible.
Now I remembered why I didn’t do relationships.
It felt the same as the last time I’d tried.
Three hours later, I walked into the bridal suite Trinity was occupying ahead of her church ceremony at the Grace Covenant Church downtown.
And when I say “bridal suite,” I mean her childhood room, because Fairhope wasn’t known for its hotels, or for its wedding venues, or really, for anything whatsoever when you thought about it.
It was the first time I’d seen my family since the peanut fiasco when I came to pick up Bear and got a shower of insults.
My family did not contact me after Gabriella had come to inform me she had set the record straight, and frankly, I had been too busy applying for loans to pay for my personal stylist course to talk to them.
Or maybe I just didn’t think there was much to be said after the way they’d left things.
“Mooooooom,” Trinity whined, sitting in front of her mirror in a bathrobe. “I can’t do this. I really can’t. I need to call the wedding off.”
I slipped into the room, in which Gabriella and Mom were running like headless chickens, the hairstylist pinning Trinity’s hair into place, hovering above her head.
Gabriella looked up from shining Trinity’s shoes and threw me a smile. “Hi, Nessy.”
“Hi, Gabriella.” I closed the door behind me.
Trinity welcomed me with a huff and an eye roll, and my mother gestured toward the door.
“Nessy, you’re late. Do us a favor and get everyone some refreshments and a little snack for Bethany, the hairstylist. We’re having a crisis here.”
Hello to you, too, Mother.
What’s that? Yes, I’m okay despite the jail stint. Thanks for asking how I’ve been.
And yes, I’m very relieved that Gabriella told you the truth.
Pettily, I turned to Gabriella with a quizzing look, not wanting to address my mother if she couldn’t even apologize for what she’d put me through.
“What’s happening?”