We talk for a few minutes until my phone buzzes for my ride.
When we say our goodbyes, I start to head to the exit, only looking back to see Mike placing his hand on Olivia’s lower back.
That’s when bright blond hair catches my attention.
Zach.
He’s sitting at the table with the other guests from the wedding, his hair still damp from the shower and his red Rome Raptors shirt stretches across his chest, showing off his broad shoulders and that ridiculous honeycomb tattoo on his forearm.
I hate it. Not because it isn’t a beautiful tattoo. It’s stunning but having it there is a constant reminder that I fucked him over, and I’m just waiting for the day that he’s going to regret it and ink a new design over it.
The thought makes me feel a little queasy.
He leans back, taking a sip of his coffee as he laughs with his parents next to him. Tiff is there, still glowing from yesterday, with Jamie beside her and Ella perched on his lap. Their daughter is happily destroying a stack of pancakes while Jamie does his best to keep syrup off her dress.
When Mike and Olivia are by the table, everyone gets up to greet them. They’re all smiling, and happy and... I’m not there.
I swallow, gripping the bouquet a little tighter as I feel my eyes prickling.
That’s my family. The only people in this world who ever accepted me, and I just up and left them in a bid to find myself without them.
You did it to make yourself better for them.
None of them have seen me yet, but the second Zach looks around, I use my hair as a curtain and head to the front desk. With my back to the dining room, I become hyperaware of every sound behind me. The clink of silverware. Ella’s giggle. The low rumble of Zach’s voice saying something I can’t make out.
I should go over there. I should say goodbye to everyone or at least acknowledge what happened between me and Zach instead of slinking out like a coward, but my feet won’t move.
I know that if I go over and look into his eyes, I won’t be able to leave. I’ll fall right back into his orbit like I always do, and all my plans will crumble to dust.
So when everything is paid for, I grab my suitcase handle, grip the bouquet tighter, and head for the front doors. My heart is hammering so loudly I’m sure everyone in the lobby can hear it.
Any second now, someone’s going to call my name. Any second, Zach’s going to look up and see me and—
I push through the doors. The cool morning air hits my face.
Made it.
The driver is leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette as he waits for me. I start to walk over, only slowing when I realize Chris is standing next to it with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder and his phone in his hand.
When he sees me, his eyebrows lift.
“Honey?” He glances at his phone, then back at me. “Are you, uh, going to Indianapolis International?”
I stop a few feet away, my grip tightening on my suitcase. “I am, actually.”
He smiles before showing me his phone screen—the same app, the same driver, the same pickup location. “Looks like the app paired us. Must be trying to save on emissions or something.”
Of course it did. What was Olivia saying about the universe and a mallet? With her logic, I’d have ended up in my own Why Choose romance. Although, I doubt Zach could survive such a concept.
The driver drops his cigarette and stamps it out with his foot. “You two together?”
Chris glances at me, a question in his eyes.
“Yeah,” I say. “We’re together.”
The driver nods and pops the trunk. Chris takes my suitcase before I can protest, loading it next to his duffel bag. He’s always doing that—taking care of things without being asked, making himself useful, beinggoodin a way that should make me want him.
It doesn’t, which is the saddest part of this situation.
