Page 3 of Ava After Midnight

“Bride Tribe for us, and of course—” she drapes the final one over my shoulder, smoothing it down like a finishing touch—”Bride-to-Be for Ava.”

The words glitter in gold script across my chest. A reminder. A claim.

Zoe groans dramatically. “Mia, come on. You know she’s going to rip that off the second we get inside.”

“She should keep it on,” Mia counters smoothly. “Wouldn’t want anyone to forget what kind of night this is.”

The weight of it is nothing, but it feels heavier than my ring. I force a smile, adjust the sash like it’s not suffocating me, and push open the door.

I step out of the car and into the night.

The club buzzes with dark promises. Bodies press against us as we weave through the crowd, Zoe leading our charge to the bar like she was born for this chaos. The bass matches my pulse—too fast, too hard, and deliciously reckless.

“First round’s on me!” Mia shouts over the music, perfectly manicured nails tapping her black Amex against the bar. “What’s your poison?”

“Everything,” I breathe.

Shots materialize like liquid courage, each one stripping away another layer of Matthew’s perfect bride. The first sip is hesitation, the second is rebellion, and by the third, I’m someone else entirely—someone reckless, just a girl without a care in the world.

My body doesn’t just remember how to move; it demands it. The bass thrums through my bones, syncing with a part of me I’ve ignored for too long.

I roll my hips, let my hands skim down my sides, feeling the fabric of my dress ride up, unapologetic. The heat of bodies pressing in around me, the glint of hungry eyes catching the flashing lights—none of it feels wrong.

It feels like waking up.

“You’re being watched,” Jade calls in my ear, breath hot and tinged with vodka. “That group of guys by the DJ booth hasn’t taken their eyes off you since we walked in.”

I should feel guilty about the rush it causes, like a jolt of electric current.

I don’t.

“Let them look,” I murmur, the words sliding off my tongue smoother than the tequila burning in my veins. “At least someone is.”

Zoe grabs my hand, pulling me further onto the dance floor. The scarlet fabric of my dress slides up my dimpled thighs as we move, and I don’t bother pulling it down. Matthew’s Ava would have.

But she’s not here tonight.

“Speaking of Matthew,” Mia appears at my side, sweat making her perfect makeup run, “he’s called three times in the last hour.”

“And?” I laugh, and it sounds wild even to my own ears. “I can’t say I care at the moment.”

My phone buzzes in my clutch. I know it’s him. Probably pacing his pristine apartment, jaw clenched in disapproval.

The image makes me order another shot.I hope he wears a track in the carpet.

“You know what?” I announce to my bridesmaids, the 90-proof alcohol turning my blood to fire. “Fuck his rules. Fuck his schedule. Fuck his?—”

“That’s the spirit!” Jade cuts me off, her eyes sharp despite the alcohol. She knows what I’m not saying—what I’ve been afraid to admit.

The night spirals in a blur of shots and songs, each moment feeling more real than the last three years of my life. Men approach, testing their luck. For the first time, I don’t immediately shut them down with a flash of my ring.

“Dance with me,” one particularly bold one asks.

I almost say yes. Almost let myself be pulled into strong arms that aren’t bound by law firm partnerships and country club expectations.

But Zoe sees it in my eyes and pulls me back. “No, honey. You’re not the kind of girl who makes those kinds of mistakes.”

She’s right! Of course she is, and it’s becauseI’m not drunk enough. Not nearly drunk enough to forget the weight of this ring and the cage of promises I’ve built around myself.

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