Page 4 of My Ex-Fiance's Best Men
“There’s no way I’m letting him enjoy this,” I mutter and take a deep breath, letting the anger take over for a moment.
The red mist is lifted from my eyes, and a strange kind of clarity ensues as I open my phone camera into selfie mode and use a tissue to wipe as much of my raccoon eye away as possible. It takes a minute, but I manage to pull myself together.
“Attagirl,” Penny encourages.
“Listen, I may be emotionally devastated, but I refuse to be visually devastating on top of it,” I say and fiddle with the settings on my camera until I finally see a version of myself that’s worth posting online. “Okay, here goes nothing?—”
“Go for it, Phoebe!”
“Shush,” I reply, hitting record. Aware that August, Dominic, and Theo will be the first to see this, I open my statement with a confident—albeit tired—smile.
“You guys… you’re so kind to speak up for me, and I appreciate it more than you know. Honestly? It would be a shame to waste a two-week honeymoon in Hawaii. So if any of you want to join me…”
I wink. “Pack light.”
Penny shrieks. “TAG THEM. TAG THEM NOW!”
“This will probably blow up in my face, but at this point, it can’t get any worse.” I post the video and set the phone down.
I take Penny’s mug of coffee and chug it while she watches the video on her phone, scanning the incoming reactions.
She giggles gleefully, almost maliciously. “Ooh, it’s blowing up already. But not in your face.”
“It’s still early,” I mutter and lean back into the sofa, emotionally exhausted.
My phone pings.
I grab it and check the notification. My eyes widen as I read the first comment on my video.
August has just replied.
Pack your bags, sweetheart.
2
PHOEBE
What am I doing? I shouldn’t be here.
Yet here I am in JFK’s departures lounge, drowning in a sea of couples and families who all look like they know exactly where they’re going.
I watch as a plane takes off. Advertisements flash on screens throughout the terminal, each with an enticing new offer. I look away, overwhelmed by all the stimulation.
My phone rings. It’s Penny.
“I need to leave,” I tell her without so much as a hello.
“Why? What happened?”
“Nothing. They’re not here yet, but I should leave before they get here.”
I glance down at my suitcase. It’s been packed since before the wedding. I’d picked out some gorgeous lace sets, perfect one-piece bathing suits, and ethereal shawls I raided Bergdorf’s for. My finest summer outfits for my honeymoon with MatthewHearst, one of New York’s most eligible bachelors until he popped the question.
I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. I look down at my ring finger, once again naked.
“Phoebe, breathe. You’re spiraling out of control,” Penny warns. “You deserve to get away from everything. Go to Hawaii. Have a good time. Let the guys spoil you. It’s what they want. It’s what you want, too, though you may not realize it yet.”
“I just want peace and quiet,” I tell her.
