Page 101 of Sundown Somewhere

I swivel to look at the older woman who, despite her demands for extra breakfast, hasn’t moved. I raise my eyebrows, silently asking what she’s going on about, because I don’t get it.

“Good thing my sister isn’t here to see this…” she mutters, turning to go.

“What?”

What does that mean?

My stomach lurches, her statement hitting me square in the chest. Her sister—my grandmother. Grandma Dolly. It’s a good thing Grandma Dolly isn’t here to see this. To see me.

Because she would think I was a disappointment.

“You were just left at the altar, dear,” Aunt Hattie hisses. “Now you’re already kissing someone else in public. You need to be careful. People are going to think things.”

People are going to think things…

My head starts to spin, the ground underneath me shifting. I’m vaguely aware of her muttering something else as she walks away. Something about my judgment.

My very questionable judgment.

Suddenly the air feels thick, heavy, and like it’s a million degrees. The nice breeze that was there a second ago seems to have disappeared, taking all hope of coolness with it. My heart thuds against my rib cage, solid and burdensome, each beat calling into question everything I thought I was so sure of a moment ago.

Because I’ve thought I was sure about a lot of things recently, haven’t I?

I was sure about keeping items on the menu, until I wasn’t.

I was sure about details of my wedding, until I wasn’t.

I was sure about Jeff, until I wasn’t.

Until he wasn’t sure about me either.

But Hux isn’t Jeff. Hux is different. Right?

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, acid rising in my constricting throat. Because the thought of losing Hux—of being wrong about him and me like this—makes me want to vomit. I can’t imagine my life without him. Any part of me without him by my side. And if this—whatever this is between us right now—goes sideways, I would lose him.

I can’t do that again. And I can’t do that to Hux.

I can’t be wrong about him.

My chest constricts, making it hard to breathe. I stumble forward, or maybe it’s backward, I’m not really sure. All I know is that I move. But not steadily. It’s more a stagger, like I’m that toy from our childhood, the one that would wobble but not fall down. That’s me right now.

“Aunt Hattie!”

Whipping around, my great-aunt looks back at me, incredulous. Like she can’t believe that I’m going to try to get in the last word. But I am.

I survived being left at the altar and all the whispers this town had then. I can survive whatever they have up their sleeves now.

I think.

“You’re wrong.” My voice warbles, but it’s enough to poke the bear. More than enough.

“Excuse me, young lady?”

Marching back toward me, she looks like she is about to bless me out, straight out of both sides of her mouth. But I cut her off.

“About me and Hux. And it doesn’t matter what people think. They’ve been thinkin’ things about us since we were nine; they can continue thinkin’ whatever they want.”

There, I said it. All of it true too. The rumor mill in this town was the whole catalyst for our pinky promise in the first place. They were the ones trying to marry us off to each other before we hit double digits, so why stand in our way now?