Page 2 of Commit

“Oh my gosh. Was he flirting with her right in front of you?”

I shake my head. “He didn’t even notice she was coming on to him.”

“Then why did you say he moved on?”

“Because he seems so fine.”

“You can’t tell if he’s fine by looking at him.”

“He’s dressed, his hair is combed, and he just smiled at a little boy. I think he’s fine.”

Chelsea laughs. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I was dressed as a depressed paper bag for weeks after we broke up.”

“Maybe he’s exiting the used-sack-lunch phase. And maybe you’re the one that should’ve brought a date.”

“Why would I need to bring a date?” I scoff. “I broke up with him. I have nothing to prove. And don’t you think that would be a little insensitive of me?”

“Yeah, I guess.” There’s a squeaking noise as if Chelsea leaned back into her office chair even more. “If it’s so awkward, then why are you even going to this wedding in the first place?”

That’s a great question. One I’ve been asking myself for the past month.

I RSVP’d for Reece and Jana’s destination wedding even though I knew Matt would be here too. They’re both of our friends. We introduced them and were friends together—until two months ago when I ended things.

“I’m going to the wedding because Reece and Jana are my friends, and that’s what friends do. They support each other.” I twist my finger around the tie on my hood. “And I’m the maid of honor. You can’t skip a wedding when you’re the maid of honor.”

“Sure you can. People in the Witness Protection Program do it all the time.”

“I’m not in the Witness Protection Program.” However, someone might take one look at how I’m dressed right now and disagree.

“Jana would understand if you tell her you’re not up to seeing Matt.”

“I’m up to seeing him. I just didn’t think it was a good idea to start a conversation in the airport. We’d have to walk off the flight together. Stand and wait for our luggage together. That’s a lot of time to try and make conversation.”

And in all honesty, I wanted a chance to freshen up at the hotel. I know I shouldn’t care about that stuff since I was the one who broke up with him. But I do. I didn’t end things because I didn’t love him anymore. It was something bigger. And a part of me wants to stroll into this wedding weekend looking my best. I want Matt to have a moment where he thinks, Man, I should’ve gone after that woman. I should’ve fought harder to keep her.

It doesn’t make sense, but this is where my logic is at.

“It sounds like you have it all figured out,” Chelsea says.

A new wave of people line up around the carousel, blocking my view. I spin around to the other side of the pillar so I can keep my eye on Matt, not because I like seeing him smile at strangers or because I miss watching him run his fingers through his light-brown hair absentmindedly. I’m keeping an eye on him because that’s what you do. You never lose sight of your target.

“I do have it all figured out.”

“All right, text me tonight. I want to know how it goes,” Chelsea says.

“Sure thing.”

Then, she’s gone.

The lights on the baggage claim start flashing, and the conveyor belt begins spinning. I need to get my luggage and get the heck out of this airport. I inch my way closer. It’s one of those half-moon conveyor belts where the luggage goes through the little carwash flaps, takes a ride around the carousel, and then, if nobody picks it up, it goes back through the flaps on the other end.

I’m standing where the luggage comes out, making sure the flight board hides me from Matt. He’s on the other end, where the luggage escapes back inside. As soon as I see my suitcase, I’m grabbing it and heading in the opposite direction to the curb.

My pink polka-dot ribbon tied to my suitcase handle peeks out of the flaps first. I’m sneaky, so I keep my head down as I lean in to get my bag. Anyone watching me is probably wondering why I’m ducking, or maybe they’re wondering why my hoodie is cinched so tight around sunglasses.

Pretty much everything about me right now is questionable.

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