Page 72 of If You Need Me

I make a noise of affirmation. He’s such an outdoorsy, northern-Ontario-loving guy. He’s always smiling, even when I make him do horrible things he hates. He’s been nothing but nice to me since we started this whole fake-relationship debacle. He’s spent a ridiculous amount of money on clothes, gifts, and other things he thought I might need for dates and this weekend. Every outfit he’s bought fits me perfectly and is exactly my style. And then there are the orgasms, which I will not think about right now. Shilpa’s words about getting what I need out of this turn over in my mind.

They announce that the buffet is open, but I decide to wait until the initial rush has slowed, crossing my fingers there will still be a few of Diana’s famous cheese biscuits left. She made several platters. They’re such a simple thing—Rice Krispies, sharp cheddar, and cayenne pepper—but everyone loves them and always go back for more. Dallas sampled a couple before we left for the party, and Diana rapped him on the knuckles every time he tried to sneak another one.

My moms stop to say hello to Roland March, the town’s primary real estate lawyer. I say hi, but when they immediatelydive into business talk, I excuse myself and check out the buffet. I stiffen when I spot Brooklyn’s mom. I haven’t seen her in years, and I haven’t spoken to her since graduation. Thankfully, Dallas’s mom slides her arm through mine.

“Shall we grab something to eat together?”

“I don’t want to miss out on your cheese biscuits,” I admit.

She pats my hand. “I have more hidden in the freezer at home.”

“Of course you do.”

Brooklyn’s mom’s back is to us, so she doesn’t notice our approach.

“What a surprise that Wilhelmina ended up with one of the players,” she says sarcastically to the woman standing next to her.

Her friend laughs. “I guess now we know why she chose the field she did—access to all those rich men.”

Dallas’s mom stiffens beside me. “Ugly isn’t a good look on you, Carla.”

My eyes widen. I’ve never heard a harsh word out of her mouth until now. Mrs. Bright does not take anyone’s shit, apparently.

The two women spin around. “Oh! Diana, Wilhelmina, I just meant?—”

Diana holds up a hand. “I know what you meant, and Dallas is lucky to have found someone as special as Wilhelmina. She’s exactly what he needs in a partner.”

I squeeze her arm as I untangle mine from hers. “I’m going to use the ladies’ room.” I turn to Brooklyn’s mom. “Congratulations. I’m sure you must be thrilled about Sean and Brooklyn’s engagement. They truly deserve each other.” I spin around before she can say anything else and make a beeline for the bathroom.

I’m only a handful of steps away from my escape when I almost collide with Sean and Brooklyn. I glance around, wishing one of my moms was with me, or even Dallas, but I’m all alone.Adulthood has leaned out the soft lines of Brooklyn’s face. I note, however, with a hint of petty glee, that Sean’s hairline is already receding.

I force a smile and try to keep my voice steady. “Brooklyn, Sean, congratulations on your engagement.”

Brooklyn’s smile looks as brittle as I feel. Sean stands at her side, eyes moving over me on an assessing sweep. I mentally thank Dallas for picking out a dress that accentuates my curves and highlights my cleavage, but in a tasteful, not an in-your-face way.

“Wilhelmina!” Brooklyn’s voice is all fake excitement. “It’s so good to see you!”

She pulls me in for a wet-rag, limp hug. I pat her back and remind myself that after this weekend, I won’t have to exchange more than a polite hello with her again for at least another decade—unless I get an invitation to her wedding. I’d consider giving myself food poisoning to get out of having to endure something like this again.

She steps back, severing the contact after a few painfully awkward seconds. “And congratulations onyourengagement. I admit, I was a little shocked. You actually hooked Dallas.” She shakes her head. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Right?” I laugh, and it sounds halfway to hysterical.

“I guess you’re not holding a grudge anymore if you’re here.” Brooklyn glances around the room, like she’s looking for an escape.

That makes two of us. “We’re all adults now.” I force a smile.

She hums her agreement and links her arm with Sean’s. “Oh! There’s Katie! We should go say hi.” She turns her fake smile back to me. “Let’s definitely catch up sometime this weekend.”

“I should be so lucky.” I hope this is the last conversation I ever have with these two.

Brooklyn guides Sean away, whispering as they go.

On shaky legs, I finish my trip to the bathroom, grateful that I cross paths with a server on the way. I grab two glasses ofchampagne, thank him, and continue into the bathroom. I’m grateful each stall has total privacy. I throw the lock, down a glass of champagne in two gulps, and drop to the toilet seat.

“This is the worst,” I mutter. I take several deep breaths, determined not to lose my shit in a public place.

That I didn’t punch Brooklyn in the face, or scream at her, or break down in a fit of tears, seems like a serious win. Except I’m finally ready to admit I haven’t grieved the loss of Brooklyn’s friendship properly. Instead, I shoved that pain into a box and tucked it away. Sort of like my adoption files. Time has taught me that she was never a good friend, but there’s still a disconnect inside me. I wanted to be as important to her as she was to me. The way she hurt me caused a ripple effect that changed my life—though probably for the better, I remind myself. I moved to the city for university and vowed never to trust the wrong person to have my back again. And yet here I am. Fake engaged to the guy who watched his friends push me into puddles on the playground. I want to believe he’s truly sorry for all the things that happened growing up. That he really is a nice guy, the kind I’d be happy to bring home to my moms. But we’re just a big old pile of fucking fake, and I hate it.

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