Page 106 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

With a wry smile, I add, “Melodramatic.”

“Who’s dramatic?”

I jump at the sound of Parker’s voice. She appears behind me, grinning.

“Oh.” I laugh nervously, glancing around. “I thought everyone already left.”

Ihopedeveryone left. I stayed late, declining a dinner invite with Dad so I could be sure to avoid running into Van again. In the hallway. Or the parking lot. Or anywhere else he might be in the building. I swear, I walked around today like I was being followed by a ghost. That's for sure how it felt.

The ghost of mistakes past.

But was the bigger mistake marrying Van on our last night in Florida? Or was it leaving without talking to him about why my dad texted himThanks for babysitting?

Maybe both. In equal parts.

“You’re coming out with us,” Parker says, and I’m shaking my head even as she starts dragging me out of my chair. “No excuses. Sorry. You're all out of them. They’re like vacation days, and you have to earn them. It’s your first day, so you’ve got none.” Parker’s smile is wicked.

Or at least, itfeelswicked to me. I’m sure Parker doesn’t have a bad bone in her body.

“Who’s theus?” I ask, hoping and also not hoping to hear Van’s name. If he’ll be there, I’ll fight my way out of this.

I’m pretty sure I could take Parker in a physical fight.

“Me and Summer and Gracie and Bailey.”

“Have I met Gracie and Bailey?” I ask, grabbing my purse and following Parker out. The names sound familiar, but I don't think they work here. The only women I interacted with today at the Summit were Summer and Parker.

She bites her lip. “Noooo … ”

Her tone of voice is off, and it only takes me a second to connect the dots.

“They were at the wedding.”

Notthewedding, a little voice in my brain corrects. Reminding me that the wedding Parker means wasn’t THE wedding. The one that actually took place. Technically, she means thefailedwedding.

THE wedding was the one where I actually got married.

The one only Van and I know about. For now.

“Sorry to bring it up again,” Parker says.

“It’s unavoidable,” I tell her with a shrug. “And honestly, not all that painful.”

Definitely less painful than thinking about theotherwedding.

Which is really wild when I think about it. Why should a spontaneous wedding with a guy I barely know—as I quickly found out—hurt more than one I planned for almost a year?

Maybe because I didn’t care as much about Drew as I do Van.

Did. As much as Ididcare about Van.

“I’m honestly okay with it,” I assure her. “Most of it, anyway.” I am still struggling with the part where I lost a cousin and a once-beloved uncle.

“Yeah? Well, you can tell us about it over drinks,” Parker says.

I have no plans to tell themanythingabout either wedding over drinks. Or to drink at all, considering what happened thelasttime I drank.

No, I wasn't drunk when Van and I got the brilliant idea to get married. Just ... tipsy. Happy.

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