Chapter 3
Harlow
"Okay, kiddo.” I look over at my thirteen-year-old niece, Sofia. "Give me a hug. I’ll be gone this weekend." We spent the whole day shopping together and then had dinner before I brought her back. It was one of the best days I’ve had in a while.
Sofia walks to me and gives me a hug, turning and walking to her room on her tippy-toes. My brother, Reed, and Hazel just had their third child a month ago, and well, he came into the world showing them why they shouldn’t have another child.
"Are you really going to that wedding?" Reed looks at me as I walk to the kitchen. I pull open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water, and then walk over to the island.
"What am I supposed to do?" I pull out the stool and sit down next to him. "I made a promise, and a promise is a promise." A fucking promise that I’ve been regretting ever since I got his wedding invitiation in the mail a month ago.
"I don’t think you need to keep a promise you made to an ex-boyfriend," Hazel says. "An ex-boyfriend you still love."
I roll my eyes at her. "I don’t still love him." I take another sip of water, hoping that she doesn’t see the bullshit written all over my face. "Besides, I got an invitation. If I don’t show up, he’s going to know it bothers me." I push off the counter, the anger coming back to me because who the fuck invites their ex anything to their wedding? "I’ll go to the wedding, show my face, smile, and wish him well." I give them the same smile I’m going to give him. My hands are balled into fists beside me. "See? Fine." I turn on my heels and storm out of the house. Slamming the front door behind me, I stop and close my eyes, hoping to hell I didn’t wake the baby.
Getting in my truck, it takes me three minutes to get home. Grabbing all the bags in my hand, I walk up the four front steps, and the phone rings from my back pocket. I reach around to grab the phone, and two bags fall out of my hand at the same time my phone falls out of my hand onto the welcome mat. "Fuck," I huff out, pushing the hair away from my face and seeing that it’s Rachel.
"Hello," I greet, putting the phone to my ear and pressing it with my shoulder as I open the front door.
"Hey," Rachel says. "I’m just calling to ask what time you are arriving tomorrow?"
"I’m leaving home at eight, so I should be getting to the hotel at around noon." I walk past the living room that leads to the kitchen and straight to my bedroom. "What about you?"
"I should be getting there at the same time," she says. It gets quiet, and I stop midstep.
"What’s the matter?" I ask her, and she huffs.
"Do you really want to do this?" she asks, and I sit on the bed, the bag falling from my hand.
"It’s closure," I finally say. "Seeing him again will be closure."
"Nobody would think less of you if you opted out," Rachel reassures me.
"I’m going to go to that wedding, wish them well, and then maybe—just maybe—get drunk in my room."
She laughs. "Fine, I’ll be right there."
I smile, and we hang up with the plans to text each other when we get there. I pack two dresses, not sure which one I’m going to wear, and when I slide into bed, I lie awake most of the night. Memories of the first time I met him come back, and if I close my eyes tight enough, I can still hear the way he used to say my name. I give up and get out of bed at six and decide to hit the road and take my time going there.
I stop twice on the way, and when I pull up to the hotel, my stomach starts to flip-flop like a fish that just got out of the water. Check-in goes off without a hitch, and I’m thankful I didn’t see anyone. I know that we are all staying at the same hotel, and I know I’m going to have to face the music at one point, but now isn’t the time I want to do it. Pushing open the door, I see it’s a standard room with one king bed and a desk in the corner of the room. I text Rachel as soon as I get into the room.
Me: I’m here and in room 227
I put the phone beside me, walking over to the window and looking out. The last time I stayed in this hotel was when he brought me back home for his cousin's wedding. I put my hand to my stomach, ignoring the pain in the middle of my chest. "I need a shower and then a nap."
The nap lasts a full forty-five minutes before the alarm rings, followed by a text from Rachel that she is on her way up. A minute later, the knock on the door comes. I pull open the door and smile when I see her. "Hi," I say when she walks in, and she gives me a hug.