Page 9 of Silent Cravings

“No kidding. That’s why the temperatures have been warming up.”

“I’m just saying. It would be one thing if a short timeline meant, like, September. We could handle that. But we’re heading into wedding season as it is.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” I assured her. She was an amazing assistant, but she had ahabit of stating the obvious when I was already three steps ahead of her. Then again, I’d had nothing but time yesterday to stew over after waking up alone in my messy bed.

It’s for the best.I had spoken those words to myself so many times over the course of a rainy Sunday that they popped into my head before I could help it. Itwasfor the best that he left. I wouldn’t have known what to say.Sorry, I needed something to take the pain away, and alcohol didn’t work.Yeah, no, even if it was the sad truth.

Things would be awkward enough the next time we saw each other, whenever that happened to be. No doubt it would be something wedding-related. My stomach felt a little queasy when I considered that. There would be plenty of things to do in the weeks leading up to the wedding, and of course, Colton would want Evan to be part of it.

Would anybody mind if I took a break from group functions for the rest of the summer?

“Did you hear me? Am I breaking up?” Bianca asked, raising her voice until it filled the inside of my Mercedes.

“You did cut out a little,” I lied, too busy thinking about the mistake I made two nights ago. “Run that by me again?”

“I said, my biggest concern is finding a venue. I mean, anybody with availability at this point is probably available because nobody wants them.”

“One thing at a time,” I urged. My head was starting to hurt. “Let me make this meeting, and I’ll fill you in as soon as I leave. Until then, take a breath and maybe a Valium.”

Ending the call, I took a breath of my own, then another, fighting to calm my nerves. It wasn’t the wedding on my mind. That I could plan and execute a showstopper on short notice in my sleep.

How could he have left without saying a word?No note, notext, nothing. All he’d done was clean up after we left the food lying out.

Was I surprised? I knew better than to expect anything from him. He had already disappointed me once. Maybe the worst a person could be. More than that, he never apologized. Why apologize now for punking out on me like he had? Time hadn’t granted him the balls to own up to the things he did.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, yet I couldn’t keep the memories and the subsequent letdown from playing on a never-ending loop.

There was a hell of a lot more going on in my life than screwing up and fucking Evan. My stupid body insisted on reminding me how good it was—maybe the best ever, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. I didn’t want it to be true. I wanted the sex to be forgettable, for it to fade into the background of my memory the way other partners had. But no, the idiot had to go and make me come three times, and hard enough that I basically passed out in the end.

Was it wrong that I wanted it again?

Of course, it was. Terribly so, not to mention incredibly stupid. Sure, why not walk headfirst into a mistake? And that’s what it would have been. Because I knew him, and I knew what was waiting for me if I let myself get involved. It was one thing for a naïve, eighteen-year-old kid to fall for a boy who broke her heart. I was twenty-eight now, and my eyes were wide-fucking-open.

I was grateful when my exit came up. It meant I could busy my mind with something productive instead of the downward spiral I was heading.

Arriving at the store was a breath of fresh air. Rose and Colton had worked so hard to turn an old bank into a showplace featuring Farrah Goldsmith couture. Steppinginside, I found a handful of women my mother’s age talking with one of the stylists while preparing for some big event.

I headed straight back to Rose’s office, tapping on the closed door and waiting for her to call out. “Yes?”

“Just me.” I stepped into the cozy space and closed the door, cutting off the overlapping voices outside. “No offense, but you don’t look so great.”

“I feel even worse than I look.” She pushed her chair back from the desk and reached between her calves, holding up a wastebasket for me to see. “Just in case I have to hurl.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Poor thing.” Funny, but I could handle talking about the baby now. It was just the shock on Saturday night that had me reeling and making incredibly unwise decisions. That was all. “Do you want me to go out and, I don’t know, get you ginger ale or something? Saltines?”

“I already have a sleeve of crackers, and this is ginger ale in my cup.” She held up a pink tumbler, sipping from the straw. “I can’t let it paralyze me, and they say it only lasts a little while. Not the whole nine months.”

I dropped into a chair on the other side of her desk and set my bag on the floor at my feet. “That’s good. So hopefully, by the time the wedding comes, this part will have passed.”

“Fingers crossed. So, since we’re on the subject…”

“Yes. The wedding you got me to agree to plan without telling me you were pregnant.”

She winced, briefly closing her eyes. “I know, I know. I should have mentioned it. But we wanted to wait until it seemed like everything was okay. You know?”

I knew very well, and the knowledge was a fist clenching my heart until it ached. “So what are we thinking?” I asked,pulling out my tablet and stylus to take notes. “Have you thought about dates?”

“I’ve thought about not wanting to look like a whale in my wedding gown,” she explained with a grimace. “Which means it needs to be, like, soon.Very soon.”

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