Page 99 of The Wrong Husband
Me:No, I met someone else.
I watch in amusement as the dots on my screen flash, then disappear, as if everyone is trying to figure out how to respond.
Harper:
Grace:
Zoey:
Deciding to put them out of their misery, I type another message.
Me:Of course it’s Connor. Who else could it be?
Zoey:As long as this is what you want?
Me:I think it IS. I’m so sorry I’m eloping. Can you forgive me for doing this?
Harper:Woman please. We’re just happy that you’re happy. You deserve it.
I bite my lower lip. Harper’s response gives me the courage to ask the question I’ve been wondering about.
Me:You don’t think it’s too soon?
Harper:Of course not. When you know, you know.
Harper’s a romantic. She thinks Connor and I fell in love very quickly and decided to get married. She doesn’t know the main reason why. And I’ll tell them, once the ER is safe.
Grace:Listen bish it’s called eloping because you don’t tell anyone about it and just go ahead and do it. Personally I think it’s the fastest most efficient way to do it.
I chuckle. I bet Grace is thinking it’s the only way she could get married without missing her morning show. I’m doing it this way because I’m a coward. Because I don’t want to explain myself to anyone.
Why can’t I simply be open to my friends and my family? Why do I have this awful worry that I’ll be judged by everyone for my actions? Why can’t I stop worrying about what others think about me and simply allow myself to be?External locus of evaluation: Basing self-worth on others’ opinions rather than internal validation.
Or in this case, it’s one person’s opinion. My mother. I’ll face her when I’m back.
Zoey:I’m guessing, the sex is phenomenal. You do realize you don’t have to marry him for that, right?
Uh, am I going to tell them I haven’t slept with him? Not in the strictest sense, anyway.Probably not.
Me:That’s not the reason I’m marrying him. Not only
Harper:Spill the tea woman! Let me at least live vicariously.
Me:When I’m back.
Grace:Take pics. Lots of pics.
Zoey:As long as this makes you happy go for it.
Itdoesmake me happy. I’m so glad I shared this with my friends. I’ll tell Drew when I return. He’s not going to be happy, but perhaps, it’ll be the sign he needs to move on.
My phone vibrates again. As if thoughts of him have conjured him up, there’s a message from him.
Drew:I wish you’d change your mind, Phe. You know I still love you. I’ll always love you. We belong together.
My stomach twists. My chest pulls tight, like a rubber band stretched to snapping.
The jet hits an air pocket—sudden, jarring. I lurch in my seat as the phone slips from my hand and lands on the carpet with a dull thud, skidding to a stop beside Connor’s feet.
