Page 13 of Shattered Dreams

I write a mental note to talk to the ME, and I never did get around to asking him about Stacy Birmingham.

Back at the office, I email Zane and CC Stella. There’s no one else to report to. I doubt they’ll be checking their email anytime soon, and pressing Send, I’m bitter all over again. I could have been there, could have watched them get married, gone out to dinner. I didn’t realize how much I liked Zane and Stella until Zarah breaking it off meant I didn’t have a reason to talk to them anymore.

I don’t have a big family, and I didn’t take advantage of having a brother when I had the chance. I’d always been in competition with Max, even if the contest had been made up in my head, and that ruined our relationship. I’ll always be jealous Max had Zarah’s time first, and I’ll always resent her realizing I wasn’t her type after all.

Pop leaves early, saying he needs a hot shower and a beer, and an hour later, I lock up. Tiredly, I climb into my truck, and my phone rings, the music cutting into the silence. Baby’s ears perk up, but I’ve stopped thinking it’s Zarah. She won’t call me after the things I said, and it’s just as well. I’m not going to let her straddle the fence. Either she’s in it or she’s not, and the last I heard, she wasn’t.

Sierra asks me out to shoot darts and grab a burger, and I accept because the only alternative I have on my busy agenda is going through Max’s diary and reading about how much inlove he’d been with my ex-girlfriend. I really don’t need that right now. It’s bad enough she probably invited Tate to Zane and Stella’s ceremony and to dinner afterward, and I’m too drained to care. I learned my lesson the first time Sierra and I went out, and I tell her I want to go to a bar in a shitty little town a half hour away. The paparazzi won’t be on my tail in a crap town and if Sierra wants to hang all over me, fuck, maybe I’ll let her take me home.

If Zarah can play around, so can I.

Except, my hands shake just thinking about it, and it doesn’t matter how many lies I tell myself, I know I’ll bring her home and go to bed alone.

CHAPTER THREE

Zarah

Ifake happiness pretty well, if I do say so for myself. Stella and I go to the spa, and I get my hair done but I don’t let her cut it. I can still feel the way Gage would wrap his fingers in it, tug a little asking me to look at him right before he kissed me.

While our nails dry, we drink champagne, and we’re at the penthouse to dress an hour before Stella needs to meet Zane at the courthouse. They spent the night together last night, but it will be fun to see his face when she steps into the judge’s chambers wearing her new dress.

She keeps looking at me out of the corners of her eyes and she opens her mouth to say something five or six times while we change in my room, but I don’t encourage her to say anything. There’s nothing to say. She wants me to be happy, but how am I supposed to be if I don’t even know for myself what will make me happy?

It’s difficult being pulled in two directions. Everyone said I should go out on my own, and I saw their point, even wantedthat too for a brief amount of time, but if I’m going to be miserable without Gage, is there any benefit to exploring? I have the resources for us to go anywhere we wanted to go. We could have traveled the world, but now I’ve broken his trust, made him doubt I love him, and that might be something I can never repair.

My mind blanks on the way to the courthouse. I can’t remember where it is or how to get there. Douglas turns onto the boulevard, and nothing looks familiar. I panic and my heart starts to race. Not this again. I was doing so well.

I keep my face smooth. I don’t want to worry Stella, and if Zane suspects I’m starting to relapse, he won’t let me out of his sight and I don’t want that for him now. He should be thinking only about Stella and the naughty things he’s going to do to her on their first night as husband and wife.

The building doesn’t trip my memory, and I push down an anxiety attack. I’ve been to the courthouse on a few occasions, and while the building wouldn’t be as familiar as a boutique or my favorite restaurant, it should at least be recognizable, but it’s not.

Walking through security flusters me. I wasn’t expecting it, and the security guard shoots me a suspicious look. Or I think he does. I’m starting to sweat through my dress, and I try to smile and act natural.

“Are you okay? You’re pasty.” Stella wraps her arm around mine and leads me to a bank of elevators. We study the chart on the wall and find the correct floor for the judge who’s going to officiate the ceremony.

“I’m fine. Just nervous.”

“This was your idea. Zane and I didn’t have to do this now.”

“I know, but tell me you’re not excited.”

Talking to Stella calms me, and maybe I remember a little of the building now. I hope.

“I really am. I’ve waited for this for a long time. It just never felt right, and it still doesn’t. Zarah,” she says, nudging me into an elevator as the doors glide open. We’re the only two who step inside, and we lean against the wooden-paneled wall. She inhales deeply and blows it out of her mouth in a shallow stream. “Tell me you’re okay with this.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I love you. We’ll finally be sisters.”

“I don’t want you to think anything will change.”

I scoff. “Of course things are going to change. You’re going to want the house to yourselves, and I understand that. I’m actually thinking of moving into the penthouse. I’m twenty-seven years old, and I need to start living on my own. I realized something dating Gage, even if it was only for a few months. If I can’t be happy alone, I can’t be happy with someone, either. That’s a big difference between you and me. When we met, you were making it, working in payroll, living in your little apartment and paying your bills. You were happy, and what didn’t make you happy, you were doing what you needed to do to change it. Going to school, attaching yourself to a company where you could get promoted and grow professionally. Even as young as you were, you were always on track, and I never was. I need that to be happy in any relationship, not just with Gage. This is a good thing, and I do not want you to think that you and Zane getting married is going to negatively affect me. It won’t. I need to start living my life, Stella. If I choose to live in the penthouse, don’t feel like you’re kicking me out. I’m leaving on my own, and you don’t have to feel bad.”

I almost sound convincing.

Stella’s shrewd enough not to buy it, but she runs out of time to say anything. The elevator dings and the doors open onto the tenth floor.

It isn’t romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but it will do. Things will eventually calm down and I’ll plan Zane andStella the biggest, most gorgeous wedding the world has ever seen.

Zane’s waiting in the judge’s chambers, murmuring to a rotund, balding man dressed in a dark grey suit. I think he and our dad used to be friends. They’re talking easily, and maybe they’ve already had a couple nips of the bottle—the judge’s cheeks are bright pink.

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