AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I turn my face away, wishing I had an invisibility cloak under which to disappear. Or, to be more pragmatic, that I had a beanie to conceal my hair at least. I love my long, white-blonde locks, but the mane is hard to miss. In a panic, I pick up my bag from the counter and ask the bartender where the restrooms are. The man points me to a hall to the right with a toilet sign above it. I hop off the stool and follow his directions. I’ve already signed the receipt and won’t need to come back to the bar. And to go back to my room, I can find another set of elevators or take the stairs, steering clear of the lobby.
Down the hall, I push the bathroom door open and hide in a stall for good measure. Ugh, this is the worst. Despite my best efforts to come prepared—meditation, yoga, even therapy, I can’t ignore the icy dread that creeps up my spine as I realize what I’m about to face. A week trapped in a hotel with all these people I never wanted to see again and would rather forget. How am I going to survive this?
Avoiding two of them for an evening won’t solve the problem, especially since I can’t ditch any of the events or I’d be spoiling the celebrations for Winter. Before coming, I was aware I’d have to deal with my past, but the real-life experience is worse than I expected. I’m not ready for the panic and shame assailing me even without a face to face. What about when I’ll be forced to really confront them? I’m going to die of mortification.
I close my hands into tight fists, digging my fingernails into my palms, and sag against the metal door to stare at the ceiling. Two glasses of wine should’ve helped me relax, but no, I’m still a bundle of nerves. And if a little liquid courage can’t even help me chill out, this week is going to be truly horrible.
The bathroom door swings open, and Susan’s voice drifts in. “Couldn’t you wait until we got up to our room?”
“Sorry,” Daria’s voice replies, getting closer. A door bangs next to me. “It was a long drive, and you’ve seen the line at the check-in.”
On alert, I push away from the stall’s door and backtrack to the rear of the tiny space, hoping my feet won’t show underneath. Could they recognize me from my shoes? I doubt it.
“Whatever,” Susan says, her voice closer now. I can picture her staring in the mirror while bouncing up the edges of her short bob of brown hair. “Are we going out tonight, or are you tired?”
“I don’t know,” Daria says. “You?”
“I texted Winter; they’re downtown at a French brasserie.”
“Who’s ‘they’? Is the scarlet woman going to be there?”
Blood turns to ice in my veins; she’s talking about me.
“Probably.”
“Yuck.” After the longest time, Daria flushes and comes out of the stall. “Then it’s a pass for me.”
“You’re still that mad at Summer?” Susan asks. “If Lana could move past—”
“Lana is an angel fallen from heaven,” Daria interrupts, turning on the water to presumably wash her hands. “I’m not.”
Susan must make a face, because Daria says, “Susy, drop it.”
“Okay, I will, if…” A pregnant pause follows. “If you explain why, just once.”
The sound of paper towels being yanked from their container on the wall is the only noise that fills the room for a few unbearably long seconds. In the ringing silence, I’m scared they’ll hear the pounding of my heart against my rib cage.
“What difference does it make?” Daria asks.
“I hate that our group fell apart and disintegrated. We were so close, the seven of us, and now it’s just you, me and Martha most of the time. And I’m not saying I don’t love hanging out with you both, but it isn’t like before.”
When Susan says the seven of us, she’s talking about them, plus me, my sister, Lana, Martha, another regular in our group, and Ingrid, who’s the wife of Johnathan’s best friend, Mike. The moment the affair became public, Johnathan and I were sort of cast out, and Mike stuck with his buddy, leaving the group and pulling Ingrid along. But I had no idea that even Winter and Lana didn’t hang out as much with Susan, Daria and Martha anymore. I’d just assumed I’d dropped off the invite list to their nights out.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but the group will never be the same,” Daria says. “That ship sank when little Miss I’ll Go and Screw My Best Friend’s Boyfriend torpedoed it by having an affair with Johnathan. I still don’t understand how Lana found the strength to forgive her, but I never will.”
Daria’s last words cut through my heart like a blade.
“But why? Summer didn’t stealyourboyfriend.”
“Susy, she was my best friend. Summer supported me when Tom had the affair, and then Gabriel. She witnessed firsthand what being cheated on did to me, how destroyed I was. Now, tell me, what kind of cold-hearted bitch would consciously unleash all that pain on another woman, let alone her supposed best friend?”
The blade continues to slice through my already-injured heart, filleting it to shreds. What I did to Lana was wrong, inexcusable. And Daria’s right: I didn’t deserve Lana’s forgiveness, or hers, or anyone else’s.
“No, no, you’re right,” Susan says. “She’s a total bitch.”
I cringe in my corner, flushing in shame.
“Lana got lucky she fell into a new relationship straight away, but she could’ve been broken to the point of no return,” Daria continues. “I’ve learned my lesson, and Summer Knowles is the kind of toxic person I don’t need in my life, thank you very much. And besides, she hasn’t had the guts to send me a single text since she was outed.”
