Page 83 of Maid of Dishonor
“Carter, Sam,” Maya says, her voice steely now. She stands up, her eyes flitting back and forth between us, and I know we’re going to have to tell her. “What. Did. You.Do?”
Twenty-Four
Carter
“So letme get this straight. You tried totrick meinto breaking off the wedding?”
Sam and I are sitting back on our original couch, our tails between our legs as Maya paces back and forth in front of us. We’ve just told her the whole, sad story, and I’m pretty sure at any moment she’s going to send us to bed without dinner. Honestly, at this point I’d just go quietly.
“Well,” I say, sounding more hesitant than I mean to. I look over at Sam, but her gaze is firmly on her legs.
And she was right. She said this would happen eventually, and she was totally right.
“Kind of,” I finally say, and even though Sam isn’t looking at me, I can feel her full-body wince, just like she can probably feel my trepidation in the tightness of my posture.
Maya’s eyes are livid on mine, and for a second she just stares me down. Then she turns on her heel and storms out of the room, and I take a beat to breathe. I look over at Sam, but she’s still focused on her knees, her shoulders curled in, her body seemingly attempting to occupy as little space as possible. I reach over and squeeze her hand, marvelling at the fact that this is something I can do now—hold Sam’s hand without needing an explanation.
But my marvelling doesn’t last long. When she enters the room again, Maya stomps over to Sam and me and waves something violently in front of our faces. Looking closer, I see that it’s the tarot card from her pillow; it suddenly seems much more indicative of our futures than it does of her own.
“You put fake omens in my life? Carter, are youserious?” she says, the words exploding from her. “That horoscope really worried me! This”—she waves the tarot card again—“freaked me out.” She pauses, thinking. “The reception venue thing wasn’t actually that big of a deal. But the rest of it?” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you guys would do this.”
“Look, Maya,” I say, sighing and running one hand through my hair. “We just didn’t want you to be unhappy. You were clearly unhappy with him, and I didn’t want that for you. He wasn’t going to be a good dad. He wasn’t going to respect you. And besides,” I go on, a hint of defensiveness entering my voice, “Iknowyou don’t want an open marriage.”
“Of course I don’t,” she snaps. “But it’s my choice to make! You can’t just waltz in here and—oh.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening, and then dashes to the trash can next to her couch.
Sam launches herself off the couch and into the kitchen, and two seconds later, I can hear her throwing up.
Once everyone’s stomachs have calmed down and I’ve passed out cups of water, Sam and I go back to our couch. The violent vomiting did slightly undermine the steam Maya was building up, but I have no doubt she’ll pick it up again with ease.
“Look,” she says, and I reassess; the fight seems to have gone out of her, and now she just seems tired as she paces in front of us—tired and sad. “I admit things aren’t looking good for Chet and I anyway, but you still shouldn’t have tried to break us up. Respect my life choices. Talk to me if you think I’m going to get hurt, but—”
“We did talk to you,” I say. “You didn’t listen.”
“Which would be my prerogative,” she says, her voice steely, and I have to say, I’m kind of proud of her for sticking up for herself.
She sighs. “Besides,” she goes on, rubbing one hand over her forehead. “Ididlisten to you. I just didn’t talk about it. For the most part, I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business what goes on between a couple, and I wanted to keep my problems with Chet as something thathe and Italked about.”
I just grunt, and Sam nods. I can grudgingly respect that.
“We’re sorry,” Sam says, finally speaking. “We were worried about you, but we didn’t have the right to interfere the way we did. It won’t happen again.”
Maya nods her head at the apology, and she finally stops pacing, turning instead to sit on her couch. She just stares at the floor for a second, looking lost.
“I’m sorry too,” I say. I have to force the words past my lips, but I can admit I see where Maya’s coming from. “I guess it’s just hard for me to stand by and watch if I think you’re in trouble.”
The smile she gives me is small and tight. “Just try to tone it down some, okay? Trust me to do the right thing.”
I exhale slowly, nodding.
“We should probably get going,” Sam says slowly, eyeing Maya. “We’ll let you get some rest.”
“That would be good,” Maya admits. “Thanks.”
“Once again, Maya…I really am sorry,” Sam says.
Maya sighs. “I know. And I know you guys love me. I just—I should go to bed. So we can talk about it later if we need to, okay?”
“Of course,” Sam says quickly. “Yes. Go ahead and sleep. Let us know if you need anything?”
