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“Listen. I—” Easton was silenced by Nigel grabbing a fistful of his tux and fixing him with a glare.
Bless Nigel.
My father was right behind him, as was Jeremy, looking like they may be waiting their turn.
I did love my family.
“If you’re set on seeing a wedding, talk to the two of them,” I said. “Feel free to take your gifts back. Return them. Keep them. Burn them. There’s food in the banquet hall, and Lyn is the best. Eat the food, book her for your parties. Does booze go bad? Whatever. I don’t give a fuck. Enjoy, since I can’t.”
I turned and walked out the back of the room, leaving the eruption of sound behind me. The ice in my veins was melting, and now the nausea was setting in full-force.
What just happened?
Why didn’t I feel more upset?
I should be sobbing. Wondering what I’d done wrong.
I was still in shock, but I didn’t feel like it.
Instead, I was relieved. I felt like I could breathe for the first time in months. There was definitely something wrong with me. I wanted to do more of what I’d just done. Disrupt life. Tell assholes to go fuck themselves. Live for the moment.
But mostly, I wanted to go stand in the middle of the street and scream at the top of my lungs until I couldn’t talk anymore.
4
nigel
Iwas willing to stick Easton’s picture-perfect tux to the wall with a knife if it kept him from following Megan out the back. Fortunately, the instant she vanished, a large number of people converged on him.
Megan’s father patted me on the shoulder. “Go make sure my baby is okay.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I was happy to leave Easton to deal with the fallout of this. I left him to the angry mob, which had her brother and brother’s boyfriend leading the pack, and jogged after her.
I caught up to Megan, Carly, and Sonya, near the hotel parking lot.
“I’ll cancel your travel plans. What else do you need me to do?” Carly asked.
Megan was fighting with the hem and train of her dress, making a series of irritated grunts and huffs.
“I can have Quentin make both of themvanish,” Sonya offered, a hint of menace in her tone.
The frustrated noises coming from Megan’s throat grew louder, and she tugged at the fabric of her dress, as if trying to rip it.
“I know it sucks, hon, I do.” Carly sounded sympathetic. “But we’ve got you on this. You don’t have to handle it alone.”
I couldn’t watch Megan struggle with that dress anymore. I reached behind me, under the tails of my suit coat, and pulled one of the blades I carried from its tek-lok. I handed her the knife.
She gave me a grateful smile. “It’s my mess to clean up. You shouldn’t have to do that work because I’m an idiot and fell for the wrong guy.” A loud rip filled the air as she pierced the lace and satin of her dress, then dragged the knife along the fabric, cutting fistfuls off in giant clumps.
“Hey.” Carly’s voice was sharp, and she grabbed Megan’s face between her palms. “Look at me. Eye contact.”
Megan’s scowl deepened, but she obeyed. “What?” her voice was so sad.
“You’re not an idiot,” Carly said gently. “None of this is your fault, okay?”
Megan nodded, and returned to butchering her dress. When she was finished, as much of the dress lay on the ground around her as she still wore, and she looked like the heroine from an old monster movie, but more beautiful than Fay Wray ever could have hoped to be. She handed the knife back and I re-sheathed it.
Carly grabbed Megan’s wrist. “Come here,” Carly said. She pulled her sister into a tight hug. “I’ll handle this. Don’t worry about it.”
