Page 20 of Reckless Vow

Syd

Hunter is whisking me away to Vegas this weekend (multiple heart emojis)

Paris

Oh, that’s so romantic.

Lo

And unnecessary. Brook?

In ten minutes.

Paris

Still a bit weird you’re marrying your brother.

Lo

Stepbrother.

Syd

I’m going to Vegas.

Of course he’s late.

I pace in front of the Bronx supreme court building, sweat trickling down my spine.

I opted for a simple black T-shirt and jeans, but the late April day decided to grace us with unreasonably high temperatures.

I should have worn shorts. Or maybe I’m uncomfortable because I’m about to marry the man who broke my heart. One who doesn’t even care enough to show up on time.

Maybe he changed his mind.

In which case, I can’t be mad at him. Because not going through with this would be the right thing to do.

But in some ways, it feels like déjà vu. Though I guess from his perspective, it was me who didn’t show up last time.

I stop and consider that angle of events. I’ve been so wrapped in my disillusion of him not coming back for me that night, I never thought… I’m not going there.

The thought already sends a shock wave of regret down my body. And I worked hard to not feel regret.

I’m quite certain my therapist bought several cars and properties from the hours we worked on resolving the regret and self-loathing I harbored after that night.

All the memories rushing at me speeds up my pulse. I put my hands over my frantic heart and start counting my breaths.

I haven’t had a panic attack in years. What was it I learned about overcoming them? How does box breathing work? Fuck if I know.

So instead I chant in my head.It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my fault.

“Are you okay?” The raspy baritone snaps me back to reality.

For a beat, I’m pretty sure it calmed me. It’s like his voice has the ability to reach into my soul and caress it.

Bullshit.

I take him in, sorting through the fog of memories, pulling my head back to the present. And fuck. My. Life.

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