Because even though some of my anger had faded, there was no getting around the fact Will had devastated me. He had no idea how severely.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad if it had ended with him ignoring me after our night together. I’d had other dates ghostme before and since, never after a night as amazing as that one, but still. It would have hurt, and I’d have been pissed, but I would have gotten over it eventually.
Except it hadn’t ended that way.
It had ended in the hotel lobby, weeks later. That feeling of being blindsided remained in my subconscious. It sometimes popped into my brain for no reason, or sat in the pit of my stomach, as life’s worst moments had a nasty habit of doing. Sure, there had been sadder days in my life—my dad dying, and the first time my mom’s illness was so bad she didn’t recognize me. There had been other embarrassing moments—ripping my pants open during gym class in fifth grade, or Toby Kindman asking me to prom and then taking back the offer in front of the cafeteria when Greta Thornson said she’d go with him.
But that moment of finding out Billy had a fiancée felt like a lead pipe being thrust against my back, brutal in a way nothing else ever had been. That kind of moment lived with you. Lived in you.
I’d watched my mom become a shell of herself after my dad died. Held Bren’s hand when she’d miscarried the baby of a boyfriend who couldn’t get to the hospital because he was busy fucking some other girl. Listened to Marley cry over Kasen when she thought no one could hear her. I knew better than to let myself get tripped up by infatuation.
The realization I’d let it happen anyway had been a gut punch I wasn’t prepared to handle. To say I’d managed it poorly would be a colossal understatement.
That day, I never picked up the order from Starbucks. Never went back to work. Never said a word to anyone as I turned and walked out of the hotel on autopilot.
The lead pipe to the back feeling had intensified as the minutes passed, Billy’s betrayal an assault. My ears rang with Rosalyn’s declaration she was his fiancée.
Somehow, I made it home. The first thing I saw was the bottle of champagne my mom sent me when I got the job at Kolya’s. I started drinking. I rarely drank, but that day I could easily justify it, since getting the shit kicked out of me by a man was also unprecedented. After the champagne, I took care of all the beer we had in the fridge. Then the liquor stash Bren kept above the sink. I hadn’t intentionally tried to harm myself—at least I didn’t think so—I’d only been trying to go numb and get out of my head somehow. I had no memory of throwing an empty bottle against the living room wall and smashing it, of getting three huge gashes in my calf. No recollection of blacking out.
I’d woken up the following morning in the hospital, recovering from alcohol poisoning, with six stitches in my right leg. The first thing I saw was Bren hunched in a chair next to me. I was too embarrassed to come clean about Billy. I gave her a bullshit story about new job jitters and not knowing my limit. It was only by the grace of my very kind supervisor I didn’t lose my position at Kolya’s and my fashion career didn’t get snuffed out in its first month.
I’d felt disgusted with myself for how I allowed a man to get under my skin. Having control of the situation now meant everything.
Will might think he had a way to explain his actions to me, but I had better reasons not to let him try. I’d built my defenses back up. No one had come close to me since then. I might be a little softer than I was a year ago, but I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t about to let him in again.
A short while later, Katy Baumbeck came over to help set up for the engagement party, brushing some sort of orangey powder off her shirt as she shuffled through the door.
“Sorry,” she said. “Braxton got into a gross ancient bronzer my ex-mother-in-law gave me. I didn’t notice until I drove halfway here that I hadn’t wiped it all off.”
“No worries. Although I would have guessed Doritos,” Marley teased, reaching out to swipe across Katy’s shoulder. “Lucky for you, I’ve relaxed the formal dress code for tonight.”
I got up to take Katy’s coat and give her a quick hug. We’d all grown up with her since she’d been in Miranda’s year in school. Now she worked as a server at The Landslide, Coleman Creek’s best pub, and she and Marley were close friends. They’d become even tighter since last year, when Katy’s husband, Mike, suddenly left her and their two children. I didn’t have all the details. I only knew he’d been gone for months prior to their split, helping his parents. He’d come home last Christmas and asked Katy for a divorce, saying he’d fallen in love with a nurse in Phoenix.
The town had immediately rallied around her, helping with meals, babysitting, and anything else she needed. Her ex paid enough child support and alimony that Katy didn’t have to worry about losing their home or starving. But even with support, it wasn’t easy. Every time I’d seen her recently, she looked exhausted. Yet another instance of how someone’slove of their lifeturned out to be a total nightmare.
Katy sat with us as we perused the magazines, tittering over the outdated styles. It quickly became clear why she and Marley were BFFs. Even with all the setbacks life had thrown at her, Katy still brimmed with genuine happiness for my sister and James.
“Maureen, you have such amazing style.” Katy sighed as she watched me get up to grab more treats for Oscar and Bambi.
Among Kolya’s crowd, I might have wondered if that statement was passive aggressive. But I knew Katy was sincere as she complimented my wide-legged evergreen pants, fitted and high-waisted around my middle with sailor-style button detailing, and boat-necked cashmere sweater in a green so deep it appeared almost black.
“It’s sweet of you to say that. You’re looking pretty stellar yourself.” She blushed at my words, but I wasn’t just being polite. Katy absolutely rocked the plaid flannel and beat-up Wranglers look. With her glossy dark ponytail, all she needed was a cowboy hat and a few hours to sleep off the fatigue in her eyes, and she’d be ready to shoot a country music album cover or star in a truck commercial. Anytime I’d attempted a version of the denim and plaid combo, I’d come across looking like a defeated scarecrow.
I also couldn’t have pulled off Marley’s outfit. She had on a Rudolph sweater with holly leaf print leggings. I never felt comfortable wearing anything kitschy, but my sister looked adorable and completely at ease in her own skin—exactly the way everyone should feel in their clothes.
That’s why I’d started making my videos. They helped me feel creative, but I also wanted to give viewers permission to have fun, be themselves, and understand fashion didn’t need to be planned or defined to count as “style.”
“Hey Katy, did Marley ever tell you I have a YouTube channel?”
She laughed. “Of course! Like she’d keep that a secret when she could brag about her big sister instead. I’ve seen all of Francesca’s videos. Cool stuff. I especially liked the one about the ‘No-Pants Trend.’”
Marley winked at me. I felt my cheeks flush, pleased she liked my videos enough to force her friends to watch them.
“‘No-Pants’ is a classic,” I agreed, giggling when Katy mouthedlady sandwich. “Anyway, I’m thinking of going back to it while I’m in Coleman Creek. Maybe you’d be willing to do a piece with me?”
Katy ran an arm across her brow. “Like you want to interview me for your channel?”
“Uh-huh.”