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“He’s definitely something,” I say, taking a hearty sip of my champagne.
“I saw online that he has quite the reputation as a ladies’ man. There are so many pictures of him with a different woman in each one. I certainly hope you aren’t setting yourself up for a repeat of your last relationship.” She has got to be kidding me right now. Who says that? I want to slap the faux sad smile off her too-sweet face.
“Oh, don’t worry about me, dear sister. My eyes are wide open. To so many things these days.” I clink my glass to hers as my mother claps her hands and announces that lunch is going to be served, so we should find our seats. It looks as though I’m not the only one who’s changed in the last five years. My sister has grown into her claws like the society bitch my mother would have loved for me to be.
I’m seated with seven other women I don’t know. Must be the ones my mother doesn’t deem important enough to include in her social circle, so anything that comes out of her “problem child’s” mouth won’t hurt her. All I can think as I sit here and listen to the latest gossip about people I’ve known my whole life but haven’t bothered to stay in touch with for one reason or another, is what the hell am I doing here? I keep questioning why I’m putting Jackson and myself through this. My family couldn’t care less about me being here, other than it would look bad in front of all their fake friends if I didn’t show. I don’t know why I bother continuing to put on a charade in front of everyone. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about any of these people.
Unfortunately for me, I was raised to have manners and walking out in the middle of this luncheon isn’t something I can in good conscience bring myself to do. No matter how justified it would be. If biting my tongue and getting out alive is the best I can hope for, so be it. I’ll keep my head down and say my goodbyes after an appropriate amount of time has passed.
We’re halfway through the second course when the door to the restaurant opens, and a tall brunette with too much makeup, in a dress that she would never have been caught dead in in high school, walks in.
Raelynn.
I haven’t seen her since I caught her with Davis, and it would have been preferable if I never saw her again. She rushes to my mother and bends to speak in her ear. Probably apologizing for being late. My mother smiles at her and pats her hand. If I ever showed up late to an event like this, all I’d get would be a tight smile and told to take my seat so as not to draw attention to my tardiness. She walks over to my sister next, who has a wide smile on her face and stands to hug her. That stings. It’s certainly different from the not-so-warm reception I received.
Raelynn takes her seat next to her mother, and I try to stomach the Waldorf salad on the bed of arugula. The creaminess of the dish is making my stomach roll post-hangover, or it might be seeing the woman I thought of as a friend for so many years.
My head is hazy, the events of that Fourth of July barbeque replaying over and over. There’s a whooshing sound in my ears and I feel sweat gathering at my hairline as a result of the anger coursing through me right now.
“Excuse me, ladies. I’ll be right back.” Splashing some water on my face and doing some of those deep breathing exercises Lindsey raves about seems like a good plan. Never let them see you sweat. It’s the Southern way.
Thank God the restroom is in the opposite direction of Raelynn’s table. I don’t know if I would have been able to walk past her without “accidentally” knocking her plate onto her lap. That thought has me almost smiling as I open the bathroom door and head to the sink.
When I look up, the strong woman who doesn’t let anyone fuck with her happiness is staring back at me. I can do this. No one gets to have that kind of power over me. If everyone in the room wants to show her pity because of the scandal that rocked my family’s little social circle, then so be it. It’s not like I live here anymore. After the wedding, I’ll be on my way back to my real life, where the people that actually care about me are. Not this fake, air-kiss bullshit.
Taking a damp towel, I dab it over my face and behind my neck. There, much better. I can go out there and be a fake bitch with the best of them. I don’t need to look at her or talk to her, and after lunch, I can sneak out and no one will be the wiser. With a firm nod of my head and a plan set, I give myself one more confident glance in the mirror and turn to go back to my table. The door opens in front of me, halting my exit, and there stands Raelynn with a nervous smile on her face.
“Hi Abigail,” she says softly.
“Raelynn.” I nod my head and try to pass her, but she doesn’t move from the doorway.
“I was hoping we could talk for a moment.” Her soft voice is pleading, and I look up to the ceiling, taking a deep breath.Why, God, why are you doing this to me right now?
I take a step back to allow her entrance, but I don’t smile or encourage her to talk. Leaning against the sink, I cross my arms in front of my chest with a clenched jaw and impatiently stare at her as she links her fingers, squeezing them together. It’s a nervous habit she’s had since we were kids. Regardless of what she has to say, I have no intention of making it easier on her.
Finally, mustering the courage to speak, she looks up from her hands. “I am so sorry for what Davis and I did. For what I did to you. I should have never believed anything he told me. It was so stupid.”
I never allowed her to try to explain her side of what happened that day. As far as I was concerned, she was a home-wrecking bitch who didn’t deserve my time. I really don’t want to hear her out now, but I figure in for a penny, in for a pound.
“What did he tell you?” Do I really want to know this?
“He told me that you two were as good as over. He just hadn’t wanted to break it off before the party because his parents would throw a fit. He said he knew you felt the same because you never wanted to spend time with him, and when he would try to come see you during the last semester of school, you would turn him down, claiming you were busy with your studies.” She crosses her arms in front of her and begins rubbing them as though to comfort herself. “He told me that he always had a thing for me, but his parents were always pressuring him to date you in high school, so he did. When his brother started dating your sister, and both of your guys’ parents started talking about how wonderful it would be if you and Davis and Cesily and Dawson got married and started families together, he said he realized he couldn’t be stuck in that life.”
I don’t know if Davis really felt that way. After finding out about the extracurriculars he and his frat brothers participated in, I highly doubt he was telling the truth. But it’s evident that Raelynn believed him. For being a beautiful and smart girl, she’s always had shitty self-esteem, especially when we were younger. I never understood it, but I loved her like a sister and always thought she was amazing. That’s what was so painful. Not the Davis part, because fuck him, but the betrayal from her.
“Honestly, Raelynn, what you did was the worst part of the whole thing. You were one of my best friends and you betrayed me in the worst possible way. Then you went and married him. I don’t know what you hope to accomplish with your apology, but I don’t know if forgiveness is in the cards for me.”
She looks down again with a teary sheen covering her eyes.
“I screwed up. There was so much pressure from my mom about finding the ‘right husband.’” She clears her throat, and a tear escapes. “I was pregnant. That’s why we got married. There was no way either of our families would have tolerated having a baby out of wedlock. So, we threw together a wedding and planned to announce the pregnancy a month later, hoping no one would do the math.” She lets out a pained laugh. “Turns out it wasn’t necessary because I miscarried a couple weeks after the wedding.”
Wow. I was not expecting that. Nor was I expecting the urge to hug her to overpower any ill will I have toward her. Taking her in my arms, I give her a tight squeeze. No matter how many times I cried over what she did to me or how much I hated her for it, I’ll never be the kind of woman who isn’t sympathetic to something so devastating happening to someone.
We break apart, and I grab a paper towel, run it under cool water and hand it to her.
“I’m sorry you went through that.” And I truly mean it.
“Thanks.” She wipes under her eyes and gives me a small smile. “We tried again afterward, but it never happened. Not too long after that, he started going to strip clubs and doing God knows what else. When I tried to talk to my mother about it, she just told me it’s a cross we have to bear when we marry rich men.” Raelynn rolls her eyes and throws the paper towel in the trash. “I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me again, and I tried to talk to Julia, but she turned the hose on me the second I walked up her front steps.” I shouldn’t chuckle at that, but I can’t help one from escaping. That doesn’t surprise me in the least.
