“Really?” he asks.
“Yep,” I say, taking a bite of my food.
The rest of the meal is spent with everyone hammering out the details for the party, but my mind can’t get off the fact that Jase and Nick are hanging out again. He’s going to be invited to the party. And he’s going to come to the wedding. I try to think of a reason to get out of going to either one, but I know I can’t do that. Nick has been there for me my entire life. I’m not just going to ditch one of the biggest days of his life because of who will be in attendance. I refuse to be affected by this. Jase will just be another guest attending the wedding. Of course, since I’m in the wedding party as Olivia’s bridesmaid, I’m going to have to walk down the aisle in front of everyone, including Jase. I’ve walked down a million runways at fashion shows—sometimes more than half-naked. I’ve been on dozens of billboards and in more commercials than I can count. Yet, the thought of having to walk down the aisle, knowing Jase will be there—most likely with a date—has me feeling sick to my stomach. He shouldn’t make me feel like this. Not after all this time. Not after the way things ended.
When the bill is paid, everyone makes their way outside to say their goodbyes. Chad’s driver comes around and we slide into the back of his town car. Since it’s Saturday night, I’d usually go back to his place, but tonight I tell him I’m going home instead. He simply nods, not even questioning why I’m canceling our evening plans. He doesn’t ask if anything is wrong. The entire drive he’s on his phone. His arm never snakes around my shoulders like Nick’s did to Olivia. His hand never touches mine like Olivia’s did to Nick. And when his driver drops me off in front of my building, he doesn’t kiss me the way Killian kissed Giselle.
After showering and changing into silky pajamas, I pour myself a glass of white wine to help calm my nerves before bed. Usually, this is when I go through my emails. I confirm my meetings and engagements with Margie, my assistant, for the upcoming week, since she doesn’t work Sundays. I check my company’s financials to make sure we’re where we need to be. But tonight, I do none of that. Instead, I head outside onto my balcony, which overlooks Central Park. With my condo being on the tenth floor, I’m able to just barely make out the people bustling about. Some are walking their dogs, others are strolling hand-in-hand. It’s dark out, just after ten o’clock, but this is the city that never sleeps.
I take in a deep breath, then bring my lips up to my glass, swallowing a taste of the fruity wine. This is what I wanted. A sky-rise condo in Lennox Hills overlooking Central Park. And I finally got it. The day I signed the papers on this condo, I felt like I’d finally made it. I purchased it on my own, with my own credit and my own money. Yet, as I look out at the luscious trees that fill the park, it feels like every goal and dream I’ve ever made wasn’t enough. I should feel complete, fulfilled. I should feel accomplished. But I don’t. I feel empty.
After I finish my wine, I rinse the glass out then climb into bed. I lay here for several minutes, trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. I barely even touched my cell phone tonight. That’s because you were too busy watching the sickeningly-sweet couples at the table. Usually I don’t pay attention to how the couples around me act with each other. I don’t care whether Chad pays attention to me, or if he kisses me goodbye.
I snuggle into my blankets, trying my hardest not to remember a time when I wanted nothing more than to be one-half to a sickeningly-sweet couple. When my world, for just a brief moment, was filled with hand-holding and kissing and sweet words whispered to one another. I close my eyes, refusing to let the tears come, only my heart—and tear ducts—seem to have a mind of their own, and when the memories of him surface, the tears fall of their own accord.
Two
Celeste
The Past
“Tell me everything!” I bounce up and down on Nick’s bed in his old room in his parents’ house. He’s home for my graduation, and I’m beyond excited to have my best friend back—even if it’s only for a short time. He may only live a hundred miles away, and in the same state, but without me having my own vehicle, it might as well be a million miles away. This past year without Nick has been excruciatingly difficult. I’ve lost my best friend, the person I talk to and hang out with. He’s now an uber-famous professional football player, and I’m just a high school senior.