Don't Kiss the Bride

She rolls her eyes theatrically. “It means she wants us to get together.”

“No. We’re not shipping,” I reply, grinning at her. “Who the hell makes up these fuckin’ words?”

“Beats me. If you hung out on the ’gram or TikTok, you wouldn’t be so lost.”

“No thanks. I’m not getting sucked into all that internet fuckery.”

Laughing, she picks up her plate and carries it over to the dishwasher. “You’re being old, Jude.”

“Don’t care.” I throw my magazine back on the pile at the edge of the table. “You want to watch some television with me?”

“I was thinking we could start a series. It’d give us something to watch every night.”

Worry stops me from answering right away. Every night will morph into a habit. A standing sort of date-night thing.

Won’t it?

“We could start The Office. Megan says it’s funny,” she says. “I like to watch lighter things before I go to sleep. Otherwise, I have disturbing dreams.”

She waits for me to answer with an expectant, hopeful smile on her face.

I should say no. The word is waiting on the tip of my tongue. I should change my mind and watch TV alone in my room until I fall asleep. Continue to keep the walls up, the lines in place. Refuse the ship.

“Okay. But just one or two episodes. I gotta be up early.”

I’ll say no next time.

“Cool!” she says. “I’m gonna go change real quick.”

Letting out a sigh, I look down at Cassie, who’s sitting next to my chair, staring up at me with her little black, judgy eyes.

“You’re right,” I say. “I gotta learn how to say no.”

Chapter 24

Jude

“I was thinking about what your Aunt Suzy said,” Skylar says as she pads into the living room. Her arms are crossed in front of her as if she’s cold, but she’s not wearing footie pants tonight. Tonight, it’s pink, cotton pajama bottoms with angry cat-face illustrations printed on them and a white, long-sleeved top with the cuffs pulled down to her palms.

“We’re not having a baby,” I quip.

Kicking my feet up on the coffee table, I lean back into the couch cushion with a long sigh. I probably shouldn’t have been crawling around behind the washing machine and on my aunt’s kitchen floor earlier. My back is hurting worse today than it was yesterday.

I get a look from Skylar that says she thinks I’m crazy. “I will not ever want to have a baby. I was thinking about Aunt Suzy saying next time we visit, she’d show me her old record collection, and concert photos.”

“And?”

She plops down on the other end of the couch and tucks her legs under her.

“Well, is there going to be a next time?” she asks.

I turn toward her. “What do you mean?”

“Will I ever see them again? Because I felt kinda bad spending the day with them, having them be so nice to me, and treating me like family. I feel guilty. She gave me a shirt that’s worth a few thousand dollars. I wouldn’t sell it in a million years, but I feel like I don’t deserve to have it. I’m a nobody to them. I’m not family.”

I blink at her and rub my tired eyes, not sure how to respond to this seriousness she’s throwing at me out of nowhere.

“And then she was talking about next time and I didn’t know what to say. I felt like an asshole, Jude. And the more I think about it, the more upset I feel. Because they’re nice people. Like, really nice people.”

Words like asshole and upset are like little red flags sprouting up between us and I’m still clueless as to what brought this on. “Skylar—”

She talks right over me. “They really love you. They want you to be happy. They think we’re going to be together, together.”

Pain radiates to my upper back as I sit up. “Where are you going with this?”

She puts her palms up in question. “I don’t know. I’m just wondering why you brought me over there when you know I’m not a permanent fixture here.”

“Because you’re my friend, and I like being around you. I thought we’d have a nice time hanging out with them.”

Confusion is contagious. Now she’s blinking at me.

“Oh.” Her shoulders sag a little.

“Why are you upset?”

“I’m not…” she says unconvincingly, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I just... I guess I just really liked them, and I was looking forward to seeing them again. I’d love to hang out with your aunt and see the photos, but—”

“Skylar,” I interrupt, still baffled as to why she’s so upset. “You can see them again. I go over there a few times a month. Come with me.”

Her spine straightens and her shoulders perk up. “You’re sure? Even though we’re not married for real?”

I took her to my aunt and uncle’s because I knew they’d treat her like family and make her feel right at home. I thought it would be good for her since she doesn’t have a relationship with any of her own family.