Page 21 of The Right Move

“So good! I mean, the wedding planning isn’t really Kevin’s thing, but we’re great.” She leans in closer to whisper in my ear. “He said we can start trying on the honeymoon.”

She pulls away with wide and excited eyes, and by “try” she clearly means for a baby. Maggie doesn’t know about my fertility concerns, none of these friends do, but her words unknowingly twist the knife in my chest.

“That’s…that’s amazing, Mags.”

“Oh! I’m so glad I ran into you.” She reaches into her bag. “I didn’t know where to send this. I’m not sure where you’re living, but here’s a save the date. You’re in the wedding, so you already know all the details, but I wanted you to have one.”

I take the ivory envelope from her. “Thanks. I’m so excited for you both.” My smile is far from genuine, and I feel terrible for it.

“Where are you living anyway?” Angie asks.

With my friend’s brother who happens to make more money than God, is hotter than sin, and plays basketball for a team my ex-boyfriend idolizes.

“I’m crashing with a friend I know through work.”

Pity smiles flash back at me.

“You’ll help with the bridal shower, right? And the bachelorette if you’re in town? I’ll need you to help with the theme and décor. Food.” Maggie laughs. “All of it. You’re the best party planner we’ve got.”

It’s my self-assigned role. Host. Event coordinator. The one who always makes a huge deal of birthdays and promotions. The friend who wants to celebrate every exciting moment of my people’s lives, to give them a moment of recognition so they know how special they are. The one who ensures those around her feel good about themselves.

I truly do love it, but it hurts a bit to remember that not a single one of my friends, outside of Stevie, congratulated me on my own promotion.

Plastering on a smile, I tell Maggie, “Of course, I will. Anything you need.”

“Are you doing okay?” she quietly asks.

Is she kidding? No, I’m not okay. My entire life was upended because of a decision someone else made. I had no place to live, no bed to sleep in because of someone else’s decision. The life I envisioned for myself, the family I imagined, have all disappeared thanks to Alex’s decision.

But before I can answer, Maggie adds, “Alex is still in the wedding, so I totally understand if you have any hesitation. You both have a plus-one though, so I’m hoping that’ll help the situation.”

What does that mean? Is Alex using his? Would he do that? Clearly, I know nothing about the man I thought I would marry, so I can’t answer those questions.

She lightly squeezes my arm. “Can’t you forgive him? I want everything to go back to how it used to be. All of us spending time together.”

“What?” I force out a laugh. “Maggie, he slept with someone else in our bed.”

And he’s never once asked for forgiveness, let alone apologized.

“He made a mistake.”

Sharp pricks of unwanted tears sting my eyes because I want to try on bridesmaid dresses, I want to go to trivia on Wednesday night, and I want my friends to have my back over Alex’s in this situation. Does that make me a terrible person? I don’t think so. That feels like the bare minimum.

I quickly grab my tray of coffees, tucking the save the date under my arm. “I’m so happy I saw you guys. Send me dress pictures later, okay? Have fun.” My tight-lipped smile carries me to the door where I’m able to hold the tears until I’m outside.

God, that hurts. Why am I being punished? Why do I feel like I’m losing my friends? They should hate him. He did this to us. Just because their boyfriends are still buddy-buddy with him? What about me?

Am I being irrational? Maybe Ryan is right. Maybe I am overly emotional, but that really hurt my feelings.

I have two blocks. Two blocks to be upset before I have to get my shit together. Two blocks until I’m at Ryan’s apartment where I need to be happy and fun Indy because I’m in his place and his life outside those four walls is stressful enough as it is. He needs his home to be a safe space. He needs a friend.

And right now, more than anything, so do I.

“Miss Ivers, welcome back.” Ryan’s doorman opens the lobby door for me.

Stopping in front of him, I set my suitcase aside. “Dave. Can I call you Dave?” His name tag says David.

“Sure, you can.”

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