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“Not quite.”

“Oh God. Don’t tell me he didn’t show?”

“He was in the building,” I say with a small sigh. “Holed up in one of the rooms… with my maid of honor.”

Her eyes widen and her jaw drops. “What?!”

I nod. “And based on what I saw, that wasn’t the first time they’d done that kind of thing.”

“Jesus. Darling, you’re a saint. I’d be in jail for double homicide right now.”

“It was a close call,” I admit with a laugh. “But I just wanted to get away. I spent the evening of my wedding day sitting on the beach in my dress, trying to figure out how I could have been so damn blind.”

Freya looks at me with deep, genuine sympathy. “God, Jessa. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I say, forcing a smile on my face. “I’m glad it happened that way. Better that than after I signed on the dotted line. Or after we had kids, moved in together, any of that.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” she agrees. “It’s still sad, though. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I’ve got some bad karma, but not that bad,” I joke.

“You and me both. So, what did you do after that?” she asks.

I hesitate. I haven’t known her long enough to trust her with the rest of my story. “I called up a friend,” I tell her. “An old friend. Chris. And I went to his place. That’s where I spent the last two nights.”

“He wasn’t at the wedding?”

“We’d had a… falling out,” I admit. “He told me that I shouldn’t marry Dane, and I told him to go fuck himself.”

She raises his eyebrows. “Sounds like a real friend.”

“He is,” I say. “I was the stupid one for not listening to him.”

“I wouldn’t be too hard on yourself. Everyone does stupid things for love.”

This is the second time someone has given me a pass based on the justification that I’d been in love. But again, it feels wrong. The word doesn’t fit.

“Maybe,” I say. “But I don’t intend on making that mistake again.”

“Of course not,” Freya agrees. “Once you’ve been burned, nothing can ever wash away those scars.”

“Sounds like you’ve got stories of your own.”

“Oh, I do,” she says with a smile. “Maybe one day, I’ll tell you all about it.”

I raise my orange juice and we clink our glasses together.

“To unexpected friendship,” I say.

“Unexpected,” Freya agrees. “But the best things usually are.”


Tags: Nicole Fox Stepanov Bratva Erotic