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Kendall: How’s the night going?
Mason: At the first bar now. Owen is crossfading into oblivion and he’s one shot away from making friends with an inanimate object. Missing you.
Mason: I am
Mason: The one that is missing you I mean
Mason: Not oweb
Kendall: Not Oweb. Got it. Are you drunk?
Mason: Sadly no, just typing extremely fast
I giggled as I put my phone back on the end table. I was half-tempted to slip away and take more bathroom selfies, but I didn’t want to take away from Mason’s reaction when he got the photos from the actual photographer.
Sarah’s mini shoot wrapped up, and Alex turned to the rest of us to ask, “Alright, who’s next?” She was met with crickets and nervous giggles. Since none of the other women felt ready, I handed my wine glass to Vicki.
“I guess I’ll go.” It felt a lot like volunteering to give a book report—not that I’d ever given a report dressed like that. Alex expertly posed me on that leather chair and I thought of Mason when I said, “I really want to emphasize my butt.”
“Oh honey—I assure you, your butt is going to be the star of the show,” Alex said. Everyone laughed as the shutter kept clicking. Any lingering nervousness I had dissipated, and I noticed even Vicki was standing more confidently with her silk robe open at the front. It might’ve been the wine, though.
And then my gaze shifted to Sarah, who was watching me closely. The second our eyes met, she looked down at her wine glass and took a sip. I sighed, turning back to the camera, wishing I could do something about this wall between us. No matter how hard I tried, how far I bent backwards to accommodate Sarah’s emotions about my history with Owen, the awkwardness was still there. Would she ever get over it?
My session didn’t take as long as Sarah’s—I was able to pretzel myself into a series of flattering poses pretty quickly. Jenny volunteered to go next, and Sarah excused herself to check on the buffalo chicken dip in the kitchen.
I followed her. “Oh, hey,” she said, looking up as she pulled the lid off the crockpot. She was wearing an oversized Cubs t-shirt over her lingerie now—probably one of Owen’s old shirts. “I can’t wait for Alex to give us our sneak peeks, can you?”
“No, I’m dying to see them.”
She finished stirring the dip and returned the spoon to the spoonrest on the counter. And then, staring down at the white marble, she took a deep breath. Here it comes. “Kendall, I’m sorry about all of that talk about Owen and me earlier.”
“You have no reason to be sorry.”
“I tried to steer the conversation a different direction, but it didn’t work.”
“I caught that. But it didn’t bother me at all.”
She turned to face me, pressing her hip against the counter. “We were selfish and impulsive and we weren’t thinking about anyone else. It just happened.”
“He and I weren’t together anymore. It’s fine.”
“But it hadn’t even been—”
“Do you want me to be upset with you?” I snapped. Sarah’s lips parted in shock at the way I cut her off. My heart was racing. I couldn’t see the other women, but I noticed their voices dying down in the next room—they were listening. That didn’t stop me, however. “How many times do I have to tell you ‘it’s fine’ before you believe me? I don’t care how or when you two got together. This whole time, I sort of wondered if something physical happened between the two of you even sooner, anyway. So I mean, I’m obviously not holding a grudge.”
She swallowed. “He never cheated on you, Kendall.”
I fought the urge to tack the word “physically” onto the end of Sarah’s statement—it would serve no purpose. Sarah’s face was already beet red, and calling her out for participating in an emotional affair would only make it worse. “It was two years ago, anyway. I've moved on and—" I paused, fiddling with the charms on my bracelet. “If I could erase everything that happened between me and him, I would. I love you, and I love being able to think of Owen as a friend now, too. Can you just try to stop making things so—weird?”
I gave her a small a smile, praying my words wouldn’t cause her to break down. Nobody liked being called out for their behavior, but at this point, it was necessary. To my relief, Sarah laughed at herself, drawing one hand to her forehead. “Jeez. Why do I always make things more awkward than necessary?”
“I don’t know. I’m the one standing here half naked.” It seemed a little absurd that we were having this much-needed conversation while neither of us were wearing pants.
“I don’t deserve you as a friend,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “But here you are. I wish it weren’t too late to ask you to be in my wedding.” She paused, gasping. “Wait, maybe it’s not?”
“It is,” I said before her thoughts spiraled out of control. “Don’t get ahead of yourself—I’m perfectly content just being a guest.”
“You’re right. But speaking of that,” Sarah said, maneuvering around the giant island in her kitchen to open the pack of whiskey shooters one of the other women had brought. “Did you find yourself a plus-one?”
