Page 72 of She Used to Be Nice
As she vowed to just keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other until it was all done, her phone vibrated with a FaceTime from Morgan.
“Tell meeverything,” she said when Avery answered.
Avery propped Morgan’s face up on her bathroom sink, then continued brushing her post-shower wet hair in front of the mirror. “The picnic was great. The weather was gorgeous, and I showed him some of my writing. He loved it.”
“Of course he did, Avery! You’re a great writer.”
Avery smiled. But she knew she was burying the lede. “And I invited him to the wedding.”
Morgan gasped, clapped her hands excitedly. “You did? Oh my God! That’s huge!”
“I know! I was gonna wait until after the Colorado trip, to see how that went, but I’m feeling so good about him. It felt right to invite him now.”
“I’m so happy for you. This is gonna be amazing!” Then Morgan’s mood changed, darkening as she took a breath. “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you that Ryan’s coming. To the wedding.”
A flash of heat pricked Avery’s chest. She put down her hair brush.
“I know,” Morgan sighed. Avery’s face must’ve said it all. “I’m so sorry.”
Avery leaned over the sink, pressing her palms into the edge. “Pete and I sort of had the ex talk. I mentioned I had a boyfriend in college but specificallydidn’ttell him anything about why it ended, or—” Avery massaged her temples. “And now he’scoming? Are yousure?”
Morgan tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, her discomfort tangible through the phone screen. “I’m positive,” she said in a gentle voice. “We got his RSVP in the mail yesterday.”
Avery didn’t know what to say. But also, there was nothingtosay. Morgan had warned her. Still, Avery couldn’t look at her.
“Fine.” Avery picked up her hair brush again. “Whatever.”
Morgan shot a glance off-screen, then stood up and started walking down the hallway of her apartment, keeping the phone steady on her face. “It’s not like Ryan’s gonna say anything. Why would he?”
“You don’t know that. He might get too drunk and make a dick comment. You know how he can get.” Avery fought a thick knot of hair at the base of her skull. “Or what ifIact weird? What ifmybehavior around Ryan gives something away?” She yanked hard until she heard a ripping sound. “Things were goingso wellbetween me and Pete. This is going to ruin everything.”
Morgan sighed as she settled into what looked like her and Charlie’s bed. “Look, one thing at a time. Just focus on the bachelor party first. It seems like you’ve gotten better at being aroundeveryone, so I’m hopeful you and Pete will have a good time. Have you been able to talk to Noah about the plans?”
Avery’s stomach dropped at the reminder of that phone call with Noah, from which she couldn’t recall a single detail. He’d told her to research some activities, but she forgot what she was supposed to be researching. She didn’t even remember where in Colorado they were going. Snowsomething? Rainsomething? There was no way she’d call him back to confirm, though.
“Oh, yeah. Noah—” Avery paused. That was the first time she’d uttered his name out loud since college. “Noah called me. We talked about it.”
His name tasted like poison on her tongue. The last time she’d said it was as a cry, a whimper muffled by an enveloping darkness. And now, in her nightmares, the sound of her voice begging him to stop jolted her awake all the time in a cold sweat, her body twisted in her dampened bed sheets. It was a sound she would never forget. A night of decisions she would never forget. And soon she’d have to see Ryan again, her scorned ex-boyfriend, the end result of that night coming palpably to life. With Pete right there to witness it all.
21
PETE STOOD UNDER THEawning of Monkey Bar wearing black slacks, a white dress shirt, and shiny dress shoes that gave him an extra inch of height. He’d made a dinner reservation here earlier in the week and had told Avery to wear something, quote, “nice.” The tight black midi dress with spaghetti straps that she’d had since college was about as nice as she could muster on her current maid-of-honoring budget. She hoped it was sufficient.
“You look gorgeous,” Pete said with a smile.
Avery smoothed down her straightened hair. “Thank you. You look great, too.”
Pete blushed and hoisted his messenger bag over his shoulders. “Thanks. I met with a client today. Had to dress up a little extra.”
“So eventheyhate your dorky vests?” Avery teased.
Pete laughed. “Hey, don’t talk shit about my dorky vest. I know you love it. I saw that sparkle in your eye in the hospital.”
“That sparkle is called intoxication.”
Pete laughed again, then gestured toward the restaurant. “After you.”
Avery pushed open the glass front door and led the way inside. As they stood in the foyer waiting for the maître d’ to show them their table, Avery swallowed. Off to her right, vintage brass lamps illuminated a long bar with a dark wooden trim. To the left, in the dining room, burgundy leather booths were pushed up against aback wall covered in old-timey art, and round tables were draped in white cloth and dotted with tiny candles. The restaurant dripped with luxury, like a scene out ofMad Men.Avery wouldn’t be surprised if Don Draper himself popped out from behind one of the red velvet partitions separating the rooms.
