Page 10 of Second Chance Ex
I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want, Prue. What you deserve. But I can’t. And when I say it isn’t you, that it’s me, I know it sounds like bullshit but you need to believe me, because it’s not you, Prue. You’re pretty much perfect. It’s me. I’ve been permanently damaged by my parents, ruined. Because I know first-hand that nothing hurts worse than when love goes wrong, and that sort of pain is the last thing I’d want for you.
Joey.
It's been just over a week since Madison and Ryan’s engagement, and it’s been the talk of the town ever since; Rosewood’s own version of a royal wedding. It’s overwhelming to say the least, particularly because I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that this wedding is so much more than just my best friend marrying the love of her life, for me at least.
The last few days have been a roller coaster of emotion for me. Of course, I’m happy and excited for my best friend. But when Maddy phoned me on Tuesday night to tell me that she was able to schedule the engagement party for Saturday—as in,thisSaturday—I’ve been up, down, and sideways ever since; hoping for the best, fearing the worst, all while dreading the inevitable. I know they’re pressed for time butlessthan a week? It’s nowhere near enough time to prepare myself mentally, physically or emotionally.I’ve literally had a few days to try and get my life together, or at least enough to give off the impression of a grown-ass woman with her shit together.
I thought I looked okay back at home. Nice. Maybe even pretty. Probably the best I’ve looked in a while considering that dressing up nowadays generally consists of nothing more than popping on some lipstick and a pair of dangly earrings. Tonight, I’ve gone all out not only with a red lip and some dangly statement earrings, but sparkly heels and a beautiful strappy satin dress; one which might be just a tadtoosnug, but was the last one of its kind on clearance at Macy’s when I made a totally panicked express online order yesterday. I’ve painted my nails, winged my eyeliner, I even added a slight curl to my always slightly frizzy shoulder-length hair. I haven’t gone to this much effort in alongtime. And dammit, I look good even if I do say so myself. At least, that’s what I thought when I looked in the mirror before I left home. Now, however, as my Uber rolls to a stop outside Ryan and Madison’s sprawling home on the wealthy side of town, I can’t help but feel like I don’t belong.
I sigh as I heave myself out the car, mentally pulling up my big girl panties while smoothing down the front of my dress and giving myself a quick pep talk. Idobelong here. This ismybest friend’s house,mybest friend’s engagement party,mybest friend’s wedding. I belong here more than most people. So, with my chin held high, I continue up the drive, to the man dressed in black checking names off a list at the front door.
I’d planned on arriving earlier to spend some time with Madison getting ready together before the party, just like old times. But she called this afternoon to tellme she was dealing with a major crisis. I tuned out after the first thirty seconds. Not because I didn’t care, but because my mind was understandably elsewhere. I wanted to ask her about him. Joey. I know he’s going to be here. He’s Best Man and he’s been Ryan’s best friend since kindergarten. But I wanted to ask Maddy the kind of questions I knew needed to be asked even though I really, really don’t want to know the answers to. Will he be bringing someone? A date? A… girlfriend? God, the thought alone makes my stomach curl. I don’t want to know, but I feel like I need to prepare myself for the worst possible case scenario. But, it’s also, quite frankly, none of my business anymore. I have no right to ask. So, I didn’t ask. I half-listened while she went into detail over a balloon garland. And, well, now here I am, smiling awkwardly at a man as he scans a list for my name.
Once I have my name crossed off the guestlist, I follow the typical party sounds through the house to the big glass pocket doors that open up to the backyard. When I step out onto the patio, I’m taken aback. An open-air tent is the main focal point, full of flickering candles and balloons. Weaving through the canopy of trees overhead is at least a million twinkling fairy lights, even a chandelier hangs from one of the branches, right over the top of a black and white checkerboard dance floor. For a moment I just stand there, taking it all in. You’d be forgiven for thinking this was the actual wedding; it’s ridiculous. But I really wouldn’t expect anything less from Madison.
A waiter wearing a sequined bow tie passes me, carrying a tray of fancy glasses of champagne, and I’m quick to grab one. I don’t normally drink champagne.But right now, I’d drink boxed wine directly from the bladder if it were all that was available. Not only do I need something to help take the edge off, but I also need something to hold in my hand while I wander aimlessly trying to look cool, calm and collected and not at all like I’m searching for someone I totally don’t want to see.
“Oh my god, there you are!”
I stop in my tracks. I’d know that voice anywhere. Unable to contain my smile, I turn and, sure enough, there stands my very best friend. At least, I think it’s my best friend, somewhere beneath the giant hair and fake eyelashes. I can’t quite tell because the sequins on her dress catch the chandelier overhead, and I’m momentarily blinded.
“Maddy.” I recover long enough to step forward, ready for an embrace, but she simply grabs my hand and turns, towing me with her through the crowd.
“Is everything okay?” I ask her back.
“No, Prue. No, it’snotokay,” she says through gritted teeth, forcing a smile, clearly trying not to look like something is wrong when something is so obviously wrong. “I need your help.”
“Okay.” I nod even though she’s not looking at me. “Well, as Maid of Honor I’m officially at your service.”
We climb the stone steps and continue across the patio and into the house which is a buzz of commotion with catering staff and waiters fleeing back and forth into the kitchen. Madison continues dragging me with her, down the hall and through the formal sitting room, up the grand staircase and across the landing to the double doors where we come to a stop. Finally, she graces me with an albeit waning smile.
“Mads?” I steady her with a worried look. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” she scoffs, throwing her hands in the air in typical dramatic Madison fashion. “He’s only gone and ruined everything!”
I assume she’s referring to Ryan.
Madison lets out an almighty huff, pushing open one side of the door with such force it slams against the wall. I cautiously peer in through the opening to see the sprawling primary suite, and there, in the center of it all, lying flat on his back on the huge bed is Ryan, sound asleep, snoring like a jackhammer, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.
I glance sideways at my best friend, choosing my words very carefully. “Is he… drunk?”
Madison buries her face in her hands, nodding. I think she’s crying. I can tell by the way her shoulders are bouncing up and down. She looks at me then, her eyeliner smudged beneath her eyes, and I’m worried one of those big fake lashes is about to come loose and take out one of her eyes. I try not to directly stare.
“He went out with the boys to play a round of golf.Golf!” Now she’s yelling, louder than necessary, and storming into the bedroom all heavy-footed, directly toward poor, unsuspecting Ryan. “He promised he wasn’t going to drink, but of course he goes and gets wasted.”
Standing there in the doorway I don’t quite know what to do, watching my best friend as she crouches down to pick up a wayward shoe. But then suddenly, before I can move quick enough to stop her, the Nike goes flying through the air, colliding straight withRyan’s crotch. He sits bolt upright with a roaring expletive.Ah, true love.
Ryan’s red-rimmed eyes clock Madison. “What the hell was that for?”
“Because you’re a drunk jerk,” Madison screams, reaching for the other Nike, but I’m quicker off the mark this time and manage to intervene, snatching the sneaker from her.
“Everyone’s arriving, and you’re up here literally passed out, Ryan.”
“Give me a break, Madison,” Ryan groans, dragging a hand over his face. “I told you I was getting ready.”
“Ready?” Madison scoffs, glancing from Ryan to me and back again. “You wereasleep.”
“I was just resting my eyes.”
