She engages Jake in what appears to be flirty whispering. I watch, my eyes trained on them, and my heart beats irregularly.
The jealousy returns.
This time over Jake.
More bourbon. It burns my throat in that perfect way. The atmosphere is electric, palpable energy that everyone seems to be enjoying. All except me. I’m in my own world, my thoughts consumed by Sienna and Jake.
I glance over at Sebastian who gives me grin. I give him a half-hearted smile back.
I gaze toward Jazz again, now settled comfortably in Jake’s lap. I begin to detest the sight of them together. Every touch, every whisper exchanged between them fuels the fire inside me. It’s all a glaring reminder of what I’ve lost.
I stare at my bourbon, the amber liquid reflecting the lit torches. I resist the urge to throw it on the fucking grass like a child.
A knife twists in my gut.
I want to look away, but I can’t. It’s like a train wreck, captivating and horrifying at the same time.
I pour myself another bourbon.
Sebastian stands at the bar next to me. “You okay, man?”
“Does it matter?” I say, my mood souring further.
Sebastian raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing. Instead, he knocks back his own glass of bourbon.
Jazz is draped all over Jake now, her laughter ringing out loudly over the music. He looks relaxed, comfortable.
Happy.
He deserves to be happy.
Even if seeing them together is like salt on an open wound.
Fuck. This is a bachelor party. Jazz is the entertainment, and Jake is eating it up. They’re both playing their roles perfectly.
If only I were sure they were actually playing.
Jake.
Sienna.
At this point, I think I’ve blown it with both of them.
I shake my head in frustration, trying to clear the fog of regret. But it’s no use. The what-ifs keep piling up like a stack of dominoes.
We’re outside, but I feel like I’m in a room that’s too small, too suffocating. I need to be somewhere else. Without a second thought, I shoot up from my chair and make my way toward the door.
I look over my shoulder.
Jazz has turned her attention to Sebastian now.
River is glaring at me.
And he’s right.
This is Alex’s big send-off. I can’t leave just because I’ve fucked up my own life. Al is happy, and he deserves to be.
I return, take my seat, and down another sip of bourbon.
