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If he’s not answering there are only two explanations.
Reason one: he’s lying dead on the street somewhere.
Which doesn’t make sense. I doubt Thad’s last, dying thought would be: I need to screw with my fiancée before I leave this earth.
Reason two: he doesn’t want to be reached.
By me.
He doesn't want to talk to me.
Because he just broke up with me.
But that’s insane. My fiancé isn’t calling off our wedding via text. Thad is not that much of a coward.
I gather my fingers into the layers of tulle and lift the heavy skirt so I can run out of the dressing room. My heart thunders like crazy and my stomach is going for the gold in the intestinal jousting version of the Olympics.
“Asia? You okay?” My mom steps into my path. Her dark eyes fix on me. Fill with that mom-like I’ve got superpowers called intuition glaze. “What’s wrong? Is it Thad?”
I know she’s coming from a good place. I do. But the fact that she immediately jumped to something happening with me and Thad makes me feel like crap. Like maybe everyone was seeing signs that I wasn’t.
“No.” I play it cool.
Because that’s what I always do.
I have everything under control.
Planned to a T.
My contingency plan has a contingency plan.
That’s why Thad and I worked so well. Our personalities were nearly identical. We both had our ducks in a row. And then we got back-up ducks just in case the first ducks quacked.
“What’s with that expression?” Mom asks.
I blink as my mind chugs through rapid-fire explanations.
My fiancé got abducted by aliens.
My fiancé was kidnapped by drug dealers.
My fiancé is a tool.
Scratch that last one.
Thad might have his quirks, but he’s not that bad. He’s quiet. Smart. An unapologetic Mama’s Boy.
Not that I mind. Research shows that the way a man treats his mother, his sisters and all the women in his life is an indicator of how he’ll treat his wife. If Thad’s extreme catering to his mom is any indication, I have nothing to worry about.
I can’t marry you.
The words dance in front of my mind.
Screw it.
I have a lot to worry about.
“Hello?” Mom waves a hand in front of my face. “Asia?”
