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“Mal,” I groaned, dragging her name out into five or six syllables. “So not helping.”
She looked me over and wrinkled her nose. “You’ve been in bed since Sunday. You need to live your life instead of letting them win.”
“Professor Diego did win,” I reminded.
She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. He stole something from you, but he didn’t win. Not if you don’t let him. As for Maverick, it’s time to stand up for yourself, not roll over in bed and play dead.”
I huffed.
“You’re going to go to Denver, go to that wedding and show him what he’s missing by marrying Farrah the beauty pageant contestant.”
“I’m not going to his wedding,” I countered. No way in hell.
She nodded and poked me in the chest with her finger. “Yes, you are. You’re going to go there, look gorgeous and keep your chin high. Show him you weren’t broken.”
“I am. Broken, I mean.”
She reached and took my hand. “No, you’re not.”
I looked at our joined hands. Frowned. “I think I love him.”
With a cock of her head, she gave me a sad smile. “I know, sweetie. I’ve never seen anything like it and I’m really fucking jealous. Except for this mopey shit part.” She circled her finger at me. “But you need to do this. For you. Show him what you’re made of.”
I shook my head. “I’m not that strong,” I admitted.
She looked at me with a steady gaze. “Bridget Beckett, you’re the strongest woman I know. You’ve survived one hundred percent of your bad days.”
I sniffed. “Pulling out the math?”
“You know it.”
I thought about her words. Mav hurt me. God, it hurt. But I’d only known him for a weekend. That was crazy. A week ago, I didn’t know he existed. I could do this.
Couldn’t I?
I did want to see his face when he saw me there, to know that while he’d hurt me–how could he not know that–I wasn’t broken. I was strong.
I had to admit she was right. Kind of. It was going to suck really bad, but I did want to face him. To stand up to him, look him in the eye, then walk away.
Then cry and eat a few pints of ice cream.
“Fine. But you have to dress me. And do my makeup.”
Mallory clapped her hands and was back to her exuberant self.
“She agreed?” Lindy yelled from downstairs, probably listening for Mallory’s squeal.
“Yes!” she called. “You find the outfit, I’ll grab my makeup. The flight leaves in three hours.”
“Lindy bought me a plane ticket?” I asked, stunned. While I’d been miserable in bed, thankfully, she’d left me alone.
“Unless that smart brain of yours has figured out teleportation, that’s the only way you’re getting to that wedding on time.” She pointed toward the bathroom. “Shower. You stink.”
I obeyed as she began to dig around in my closet. Beneath the spray, I was able to drown out Lindy’s and Mallory’s chatter about the perfect dress.
I wanted to give Mav the proverbial finger and show him what he was missing marrying another woman. I felt petty though. Vindictive.
Maybe I deserved to feel both because of the way he’d played me. Mal and Lindy thought so.
