Page 87 of If the Ring Fits

“I’m not shutting you out. I’m just asking for a moment to process… this.” She swats at thin air. “On my own.”

Rowena glances over to where her bridesmaids wait by a cab. Then she looks back at me, her expression pained but determined. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Helplessly, I nod. What else can I do? I have no idea what’s happening, but I can’t force her to stay and talk.

I watch Rowena walk away with her friends, impotent, defeated.

Three months ago, spending my wedding night alone wouldn’t have meant anything. Now, it threatens to destroy me.

37

ROWENA

Twenty-two weeks pregnant

I sit on the living room floor of my old apartment, the voluminous skirt of my wedding dress splayed around me like a deflated jellyfish. Nina and Hunter lounge beside me in their champagne bridesmaid gowns as we eat leftover treats from the desserts buffet. We sent Dylan home with Tristan and are having an emergency girls’ night. It feels good to be back to being just the three of us. Even if my former roommates keep exchanging worried glances as I take a giant bite out of a chocolate cupcake.

The rich frosting coats my tongue and I let out a heavy sigh. “You were right,” I mumble through the mouthful of cake. “I’m in over my head.”

Nina raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean, Winnie? Talk to us.”

Hunter nods emphatically, leaning in closer. “We’re here for you, always.”

Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes and I blink rapidly. Not again. I’ve cried enough today to fill a small pond.

“Can we just… not talk about it right now?” My voice wavers. “I need a distraction. A night of silliness with my best friends and an obscene amount of sugar.”

Nina and Hunter exchange another look, seeming to have an entire conversation with just their eyes. Finally, Nina grins.

Soon we’re all up, twirling and leaping around the living room in our fancy dresses like sugar-high princesses. Our laughter reverberates off the walls as we dance to cheesy pop songs and stuff our faces with éclairs and cream puffs.

For a brief, shining moment, I forget about the heavy weight in my chest. I lose myself in the pure joy of being with my best friends, knowing that whatever comes next, I’ll always have them in my life.

Hours later, we’re watching the thirdScreammovie after starting a marathon. As Ghostface chases his next victim across the TV screen, I glance over at Nina and Hunter sprawled on either side of me. Their hair is wild, makeup smeared, bridesmaid dresses hopelessly wrinkled. Both out cold, snoring softly.

I smile, snuggling deeper into the couch cushions and letting my own eyes drift shut. Nineties slasher movies and a sugar crash—the perfect recipe to keep my spiraling thoughts at bay. At least for tonight.

Unfortunately, I can’t exile Dylan for more than a night, so eventually, on Sunday, I have to creep back into Adrian’s penthouse. I time my arrival with the hour of the day he usually works out, and I luck out—he’s in the home gym. I grabprovisions from the fridge and water reserves and hole myself up in my bedroom.

He knocks on my door later that evening, a hesitant rap of knuckles against wood. I bury my face in the pillow, waiting motionless until his footsteps retreat.

Over the next week, I keep up the same avoidance tactics. My phone buzzes with his texts.Everything okay? Just checking in. Let me know if you need anything. I type back quick replies full of forced cheer.

But we can’t avoid each other forever. The following Sunday, we have to leave for California—together supposedly. So that morning, I slink into the kitchen, praying our first meeting after the day we got married won’t be too awkward.

Adrian sits at the island, jaw tight, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.

Our eyes meet and he quirks an eyebrow at me coolly. “Morning.”

After a week of radio silence, even if it’s my fault, his curt greeting cuts like a knife.

“Hey,” I mumble, yanking open the fridge to avoid his penetrating gaze. I rummage through the shelves, not really seeing anything. Why does he have to look so irritatingly handsome even at this ungodly hour?

“Have you packed yet?” His clipped tone makes me wince.

I emerge from the fridge empty-handed. “Actually, I was thinking… you don’t need to come with me to California. I’m a grown woman, I’ll be fine on my own. I know how busy you are with work and?—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rowena.” Adrian sets his mug down with a thud, his eyes flashing. “Of course I’m coming. Sam will be here in an hour to drive us to the airport.”

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