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It’s a rapid slide into my hair appointment running late because it was scheduled in their diary for next Friday instead of today. My hairdresser fits me in but it puts me an hour and a half behind in my day. On top of that, I have to endure the whispers and stares of the salon clients. I really want to scream at them tojust fuck off, but I hold my tongue for Bradford.
I will not ruin his career.
I will not ruin his career.
I will not ruin his career.
I spend a great deal of time sitting in the salon wondering if it’s too late for that, though.
Jenna calls when I’m on my way home from the hairdresser to let me know the dress she pulled for me for tonight has been misplaced. She advises she’s sourcing more options and will absolutely have a dress for me in time for drinks with Bradford’s family.
I stare at the time on my phone as she tells me this. “They’re arriving in an hour, Jenna.” Panic begins building in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll just go home and find another dress to wear.”
“No.” Her voice is calm but I hear the edges of it stretching with her own worry. “I’m going to find you a dress, Kris. I promise.”
I agree for her to keep searching but I’m already mentally filing through my closet. I at least need to have another option planned in case she can’t find me a suitable dress.
She promises to keep me updated before ending the call. I haven’t heard any news by the time I arrive home, so I proceed to go through my closet. It takes me half an hour to narrow my selections down to three dresses. A ridiculous amount of time. I wouldn’t usually take that long but my brain is filled with so much clutter today that I’m finding it difficult to think straight.
A text from Jenna finally comes forty-five minutes after our phone call.
Jenna: I’m on my way to your place with a dress! It’s stunning and I think you’re going to love it.
She sends a photo and she’s right. I do love it. I just hope it fits.
Me: I love you. Thank you!
Jenna: Also, I meant to tell you that I saw Grayson yesterday. He told me he had lunch with Bradford the other day.
Me: Did he tell you they’re going to be golfing buddies?
Jenna: Yeah. The Black charm was obviously in full effect during that lunch.
Me: The Black charm is always in full effect.
Jenna: LOL. Okay, I’ll be there in about half an hour. Hopefully.
Bradford’s parents and brothers are due to arrive at six p.m. In fifteen minutes time. Bradford strides into our bedroom at 5:50 p.m. with a look of apology on his face. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
He told me he’d be home by five p.m., but I’d already assumed from the fact I never heard back from him this morning that he must have been busy all day, so I wasn’t expecting him on time.
“We’re in a bit of a crisis here,” I throw out, suddenly feeling frantic. “And I’m really sorry about it, but honestly, I don’t think any of it was my fault. I mean, maybe I confused the hairdresser with my Fridays for her diary, but I don’t think I did. The dress issue is definitely not my fault. And my makeup not being finished yet is not my fault. And—”
Bradford comes to me and silences me. “What’s happened?”
My anxiety crashes around in my stomach and chest as I take a deep breath, but I don’t even think breathing will help ease my turmoil. I don’t think anything will do that. I make wide eyes at him. “My neighbor called me a slut.”
He appears confused by that but rolls with it. “Because?”
“Because I married you and stole you from another woman.”
“This triggered the crisis?”
“No. Lila James triggered the crisis.”
“Who is Lila James?” A text sounds from his phone in his pocket but he ignores it.
“She’s the class reunion planner.”
