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“I was hoping I could talk to you. Do you think you can spare a moment?”
He thinks I just got here. I swallow hard and try to breathe, try to act normal.
“Sure,” I say. “I was…uh…I was just on my way to see you, actually.”
“Oh, that’s great,” he says and he grins at me.
Damn it, I’ve always liked Marc. The moment Stacey introduced me to him, I liked him and thought he was different than the rest of them. He’s always been so kind, honest, and open, not like the others who always seem to do something because of what they can get out of it.
But now…
“Are you ready for the big game?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
“Oh, yeah. I guess I am. I’m so focused on the wedding tomorrow, I barely think about the game. Much to Coach’s chagrin.”
He’s lying to me. He’s got that open, innocent face that I’ve always liked so much, and he’s lying to me. What will Stacey think when she finds out about this?
God, can she find out about this?
I sit down on the couch. I feel wrong being here, knowing what I do. I want to scream at him. I want to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing. How could he do this to Stacey, to himself, to the marriage he’s about to step into?
“Do you want something to drink?” Marc asks.
I don’t know what to say so I nod.
My phone pings and it’s Brett. It’s only a kiss emoji, but I use it.
“I have something to deal with,” I say. “I’m sorry, this can wait.” I stand.
“Is everything okay? Is it about tomorrow?”
“I’ll take care of it,” I say. “A wedding isn’t a wedding when there aren’t last-minute problems. Don’t worry; I’ve got this.”
Marc smiles. “You’re a saint, Jenna. I can’t tell you what a lifesaver you’ve been. You’re the glue that keeps this all together, and Stacey appreciates you more than you know.”
I nod. “Anything for her.” I can’t say anything for them both at this point because I’m so upset with Marc, I can barely think straight.
I walk out of the room as calmly as I can and wait for the elevator.
When the doors finally close me in, I cover my face with my hands and let out a shudder.
Brett is in his room when I get there.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I say.
He frowns. “I thought you have a lot to do.”
“I do. But it’s an emergency. Can we go for a drive? To your beach or something.”
Brett nods. He looks worried.
We get in his car and he takes us to his beach. We don’t go into his place. Rather we sit down on the sand, and I stare at the waves washing gently over the sand again and again not too far from where I’m boring my toes into the ground. I tell Brett everything I heard.
When I’m done, I finally look at him.
His face is riddled with shock and concern.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know who else to tell. Should we…should we be reporting this?”
