Page 119 of Harrison's Wedding

I want to scream at them that Heather would never cheat on me. I want to beg them to leave her alone. They should know that she’s perfect and beautiful and doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Did you know she was cheating on you? Is that why you slept with Madeline Turner?” he asks.

When I don’t respond, someone else tries to get Gabriel’s attention instead.

“Gabriel, when’s the wedding?”

We finally make it into the restaurant, and I heave a sigh of relief. I’m used to running The Gauntlet at events, but since my world went to shit, it feels like I have to do that everywhere I go. Of course, it’s my penance for doing what I did. I hate myself when I think about Heather being subjected to it because of me, though.

“Are you okay, Harrison?” Ariana asks as Hayden heads over to speak to the hostess.

I look down into her bright green eyes and force a smile for her. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just hate the things they say about her, you know? She doesn’t deserve to have her name dragged through the mud like this.”

“Nor do you, though,” she says while frowning at me.

I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe not.”

“Definitely not,” she responds, meeting my gaze until I look away from her. There’s a pause for a few seconds before Ariana says, “She still loves you and she misses you. Don’t give up hope, Harrison.”

“Please stop,” I ask the pot plant next to me.

“Okay,” Ariana says before she falls silent.

It’s another thirty seconds before someone leads us to a table in the center of the restaurant. It feels as though we’re on display, and I hate it. Places often do this when we’re in a group. If we don’t know the place well enough to ask for somewhere private, they’ll put us somewhere that we can be seen by everyone because it increases the chance they’ll get free publicity from our visit.

I can feel the stares of the other patrons on me and my skin crawls, so as we take our seats, I say to the waiter, “Can I please get a double of Glenfiddich?”

“Yes, sir. Would anyone else like a drink?”

My friends finally order alcoholic drinks, and it’s nice not to be the only one drinking now. While we wait for our food, I let the conversation happen around me, and I pull out my phone, searching Heather’s name in my browser.

There are a few articles about Serenity, but most of the front page is full of articles about our relationship and her supposed affair with Sebastian. I scroll back up to the top and click the button to show the images. There are a few of Sebastian and myself interspersed in the grid of pictures, but mostly it’s her.

I sigh because I feel the pain of missing her intensely right now. I close my browser and go to her Instagram profile. She hasn’t posted much recently, and she’s turned off comments on her last three posts. I scroll past them and look at the comments on the post before that.

There are a lot of supportive comments, but there’s probably an equal number that are cruel and vindictive. Some seem to be from Cruise Control fans and it’s deeply disappointing to see them attacking her. Others are from people who don’t even seem to be fans, but are saying terrible things about her cheating on me.

I want to message her and apologize for everything I’ve done to her. I know that I don’t deserve her love or her loyalty. I don’t deserve to even breathe the same air as her, and the knowledge that I’m going to see her tomorrow is nerve-wracking.

“Harrison?” Hayden’s voice snaps me out of my train of thought. “Is everything okay?”

I lock my phone and drop it on the table before nodding at him. “Yeah, it’s fine.” I pick up my drink and drain the rest of it. “Where’s the waiter? I need another drink.”

We finish our food and make our way through the paparazzi afterward to get to the black SUV. We’re taken to some club I’ve never been to before because it’s only just opened. Everything is starting to become a bit of a blur. The paparazzi call their questions from the other end of a long hallway, and I miss chunks of their words. It’s a lot less harrowing than it was when we entered the restaurant, even though there are so many more paparazzi here.

When we get into the club, I head straight to the bar for a drink before we enter the VIP section. I don’t know if our names were on the list or if they just let us in. Either way, we see some people I vaguely recognize, and I spend the rest of the night sitting in the VIP area, drinking whisky, and wishing Heather was here with me.

19

Anamnesis

I groan and grab my head when I wake up on Saturday morning. My memories from last night are hazy. I vaguely remember Michael insisting we go home, and also him stopping the bartender from giving me another drink.

I do remember one of the members of the group of paparazzi outside the club mentioning Maddy’s name and me vomiting in the SUV on the drive home. I cringe as I wonder who cleaned that up. I’m wearing my crumpled clothes from last night and they smell faintly of vomit.

I retch as I rush to the bathroom, where I puke into the toilet. When I’m finished vomiting, I strip off my clothes and get into a hot shower. The water is soothing, but I start to get light-headed after about a minute, so I wash quickly and exit the shower. I vomit again before I leave the bathroom, and I brush my teeth afterward.

My head is pounding, so I pull a packet of aspirin out from my side table and take two. This isn’t my first hangover, and it won’t be my last, so I’m prepared.

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