Don't Kiss the Bride

Megan: Okay. Vent session scheduled at 9. xo

I change into yoga pants and an oversized sweater, and flop on my bed. Gus jumps up next to me and I kiss her head as she does happy paws across my stomach.

Reaching across my nightstand to pick up my book, I accidentally knock my phone onto the floor and it bounces under my bed.

“Crap,” I mutter as I hang off the bed to pick it up. Something catches my eye as I’m down there, and I realize it’s the card Jude left in my room the day I had oral surgery.

I was waiting to open it that night, but Gus must’ve knocked it and it fell behind the bed. I rip the envelope open and pull the card out. A smile spreads across my face when a twenty-five-dollar lottery scratch ticket falls out.

It’s a cute get-well card, and Jude has written:

Don’t worry, life gets better! No matter what, I’m here for you. Always. All my love, Jude

The smile slowly falls from my lips. I wish I had read these words sooner. Was he trying to tell me how he felt about me way back then? Did he think I read this and just ignored it?

All my love isn’t exactly a platonic way to sign a card.

Is it?

“Why is everything so confusing, Gus?” I say, holding the lottery card. I don’t know how many times I’ve told Jude not to waste his money on these expensive tickets. I’m totally happy with the one-dollar scratch-offs.

I scratch off all the little glittery squares and scrape the residue into my trash can before glancing at the rows of numbers and symbols.

Holy.

Shit.

Letting out a gasp, I stare at the numbers. My fingers tremble, jumbling the ticket in my hand.

I have all the numbers.

I blink and scan the card again, convinced my eyes are going screwy from crying and I’m not seeing clearly.

But they’re all there.

Every. Single. One.

With my pulse racing, I read the instructions on the back of the ticket over and over—convinced I must be missing something—that there has to be a mistake.

Except I can’t find any sort of mistake.

I won.

I just won two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“Oh my God!” I shriek.

I pick up Gus and dance around the room with her. “We won! We’re rich! We can get our RV, blow this town and everyone in it and never look back, Gus.”

I can’t wait to tell Jude. And Megan.

Giddy, I twirl around and round the room until I’m dizzy and my vision blurs, and I swear I see a shadow in the doorway.

Chapter 46

Skylar

“Lucky…”

Startled, I put Gus down and stare at Jude, leaning against the doorframe like he’s done a hundred times before, but I’ve never seen the look on his face that I do right now.

He looks like I just kicked him in the gut.

“Wh-what are you doing home?” I ask, trying to catch my breath.

“I was worried about you.” His jaw muscles twitch and clench.

Spinning around, I grab the lottery ticket from the middle of my bed and hold it up with an excited smile.

“Holy shit, Jude… you’re not going to believe this. I just won two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Look!” I wave the ticket around like a lunatic. “I found the card you left me when I had surgery, the cat must have knocked it behind my bed that day. The ticket was inside… I didn’t even know it was there.”

“So, you’re leaving? Never looking back.” His voice is stone cold.

My stomach drops. “What? No, I—”

The fallen look on his face rips my heart apart. Every ounce of excitement I had goes up in flames and disintegrates with the realization of what my words must’ve sounded like to him.

“No,” I say, shaking my head rapidly. “I didn’t mean it like that. Not at all.”

His eyes pin me from across the room, hard with a tragic resignation that stabs at my very soul. “Really?” he says. “Pretty sure you said blow this town and everyone in it and never look back.”

“I wasn’t even thinking. I was so shocked and excited,” I say quickly. “And I thought you’d be, too. Half this money is yours. This is life changing for both of us!”

He shakes his head and his hair tumbles into his face. He flicks it out of his eyes with a quick jerk. “I don’t want it. You can fuckin’ keep all of it.”

Turning, he storms to his room and shuts the door with such quiet finality, it sends a chill up my spine.

Undeterred, I march down the hall and open his door. Privacy and boundaries be damned. We’re beyond that at this point.

I find him standing by the window, staring outside and playing with the lighter I gave him for Christmas. Lighting it, then slamming the cover over the flame. I can feel the depth of all the emotions coming off him like heat from a fire.