Page 16 of Kiss the Bride
My tears feel surprisinglyrefreshing, even cleansing. Admitting what happened to a stranger may have reduced me to a sobbing mess, but each tear leaves me feeling a bit stronger—or my strength may come from Hunter. Selfishly, I need his friendship now more than ever. I need him to choose me over his friendship with Mitch. And in parts of my heart that I don’t want to question or explain, I need Hunter to look at me with fairy dust in his eyes.
I trust him when he says he didn’t know. I believe that if he knew, he’d have found a way to stop the wedding with minimal damage to me or my family. Hunter has been my best friend since forever, and I don’t know what I’ll do if he gets sucked into the wholebros before hoesmentality. What if—now we’re backon shore—he dumps me with my parents and races to catch up with Pete who must be hurting, too.
Pete!
“OMG!” I push back from Hunter’s chest, mortified.
“What? Liv? Whatever it is, it’ll be alright.” Hunter reacts to my cry, but I’m not the person I’m worried about. I can’t believe I was so insensitive.
“Pete didn’t know it was Mitch. He didn’t know until I posted the video.” I search Hunter’s face for forgiveness, even though it isn’t his to give. “I’m so sorry. Pete didn’t deserve to find out like that. What should I do? What can I do? Pete must hate me.”
“Babe, it will be alright.” Hunter pulls me in and kisses the top of my head like I’m his little sister. “Don’t worry about Pete. I’ll sort him out—take him out drinking and hook him up with those bridesmaids you promised me.”
My earlier promise now makes me cringe. Hunter doesn’t need me to set him up. He can have his pick from any of my bridesmaids, friends, or cousins. Even my gay cousin keeps an old photo of Hunter and me on his phone and has offered me everything from holidays to a new wardrobe if I try and set them up. Hell, no. Although, Hunter might just do it to make me squirm.
“I can’t even think about Pete with my friends, but I’m so sorry. Please tell Pete I didn’t even think before posting the video. I was angry.”
“He’ll understand,” Hunter pats the seat and hands me another bottle of water instead of my half-drunk cruiser. “But, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll talk to him, later. But I need you to sit down. We need to talk.”
Haven’t I discovered enough secrets today? Hopefully, this will be a pleasant distraction. “You mean your confession? The one you were about to tell me before your friend interrupted us?” I brace for a wicked story from when we dated. Perhaps he wasthe one who stole my phone in Year 10. There’d been some guy texting me, and I didn’t know how to block his number. Hunter had threatened to destroy my phone or the guy. My phone disappeared, and so did my stalker. I blamed my brother for both. Marcus denied the first but was proud of the second.
“Are you ready for confession time?”
“If you insist.” I grasp at the threads of the sense of humor Hunter used to tease me about. “But be warned, I’m not in the mood to hear about any of the hearts you’ve been breaking.”
“I think you should go on your honeymoon.”
“Really? Who do you think I should take this time? My great aunt? No. Let Mitch and Lina enjoy themselves. His dollar, his dime, his fucking good time.”
“Not his dollar.” I stare at Hunter, unable to decipher his riddle. What the hell does he mean the honeymoon isn’t on Mitchel’s dime? I paid for everything else, with help from my family. Mitchel had one job—book and pay for the honeymoon.
“Look, you don’t understand.” Hunter knows everything else about my failed wedding, he might as well know about the dollars. “I picked the destination, he paid for it. I’d feel like a fraud going on my honeymoon when he paid for it.”
“He didn’t.”
“He did.” I start ticking things off on my fingers. “My father paid for the catering and drinks, I paid for suits, dresses, photographer, videographer, stylist, flowers, and everything—other than the honeymoon.”
Instead of talking, Hunter pulls out his cell. I roll my eyes, wondering what family or friend texts he’s gonna share but when he shows me the screen, it’s white with black words.
I recognize the logo.
Balance owing, zero.
What?
The receipt is addressed to Hunter, but the venue and dates match what is supposed to be my honeymoon. Just as I’m about to speak, he slaps his head and looks at me with a sudden urgency.
“Babe, it’s important. Do you have any joint accounts with Mitch?”
Stunned at his reaction, I shake my head. “No, we planned to do that after the wedding when I changed my name.” Mitch has a second card on my accounts, but they aren’t joint.
“Mortgage?”
“House is in my name. Daddy insisted on that before he gifted it to us.”
“Are you sure? No joint credit cards or anything?”
“Hunter, you’re scaring me. I can sort the credit cards and cars out later. Give me a day or two to get past today.”
