Hell, he left me in bed this morning. No one else knew aboutthat, but it was enough that I did. Anger coursed through me. How could he just take off? After all the time we’d spent together, all the personal, intimate things he’d shared about his life, why couldn’t he tell me what was going on? Did it mean nothing to him?
All of these thoughts consumed me as I went back to my seat, not saying another word to Michael or my mother. The food was served, but I just picked at it. I didn’t have much of an appetite. I was too hurt for that.
A small part of me worried that he left because he was trying to avoid me, but I quickly rejected that as a possibility. It was overkill. If he just wanted to end things, there were much better ways than skipping the reception that we’d come to this island to attend.
Before I could think of a more reasonable explanation, I was distracted by Michael and Faith’s first dance. Once it was over, others joined them on the dance floor, and I stood to leave the table. I wasn’t planning on dancing, but I wanted to get up and stretch my legs. I was feeling restless and confused.
I’d barely made it ten feet when Cole appeared in front of me. I groaned, not in the mood to bother hiding how over this entire situation with him I was.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and the unexpected apology threw me off. It was the last thing I expected. “I was a dick the other night. I’d been drinking too, and I just let my frustration get the better of me.”
“Uh...that’s okay,” I replied, not sure what else to say. This was an earnest side of Cole that I never knew even existed.
“Listen, how about I make it up to you with a dance,” he suggested, holding out his hand.
The music had just changed to a slow song, and my gut reaction was to turn him down. It was a simple dance, but I didn’t want to give Cole any encouragement. But then, I thought about Briggs and how much he hurt me, and I impulsively decided that I was going to do it.
“Fine,” I said, unable to muster up excitement as he led me onto the dance floor.
My arms went to his shoulders while his hands rested on my hips. We started dancing to the music, and I already immediately regretted saying yes. Cole wasn’t being his usual handsy self, which I appreciated, but these also weren’t the arms that I wanted around me. I felt like I was using him because Briggs wasn’t here.
When the song was over, I was quick to part ways with Cole. For once, he didn’t push me to be with him. I hoped that meant he was starting to accept that it would never happen. Or maybe he was picking up on my dark mood and didn’t want to be around me.
The reception went on and I tried to have a good time. I participated in the bouquet toss and helped Faith hold up the big skirt of her dress when she had to use the bathroom. I clapped and laughed when the cake was cut and Michael shoved a piece into Faith’s face. When all that was done, the DJ played dance music and I joined my friends in the revelry.
It was a great celebration, but I just kept thinking about Briggs. I felt like I was ghosted, which was painful. Maybe I didn’t have a right to be angry. I’d started to think of us as a real couple, but we’d never discussed it. Did I make an inaccurate assumption that he felt the same?
The party was finally winding down hours later when I picked up my phone and noticed that I had three text messages from Briggs. I had missed them at first because I was dancing and had left my phone on the table specifically to avoid obsessing over the fact that hehadn’tcontacted me.
Stepping outside, I leaned against the side of the building as the cool night air soothed my overheated skin. Opening the text messages, I read the long apology and explanation about his ex-wife getting arrested and needing to be with Sam.
By the end of the messages, I felt like a jerk for getting angry with him.Of course, this had to do with Sam. I should have realized that was the case. Briggs wouldn’t leave Michael’s wedding without a good reason, and Sam was the priority in his life.
And Michael was right, it was personal, the kind of thing that shouldn’t be discussed in front of people that didn’t already know about his situation with his ex. That was why Michael didn’t want to tell me.
Had I let insecurity get the better of me in this situation?
I was usually a confident person, and the way that Briggs looked at me was certainly a boost to my self-esteem, but I had never had the “where do we stand” conversation with him. It was long-overdue, but not the kind of thing I wanted to do via text message.
Instead, I set him a short message, thanking him for letting me know what was going on, and telling him that I hoped Sam was doing okay. At the end of the message, I tacked on a heart emoji, just like the one he’d sent me this morning.
When I went back to the party, it was with a lighter heart and eager anticipation of returning home tomorrow. I had a certain police officer to track down and hopefully make mine.
I was goingto miss the island, but when my plane landed in New York the next day, I was glad to be home. My mother had tried to ask me what was going on with Briggs during the plane ride, but I avoided answering the question. If he wanted to share his private business with my family, he could do that, but I wasn’t going to take it upon myself to share his story.
When we arrived at LaGuardia airport, I retrieved my suitcase from the luggage claim area and headed out of the airport with my parents, but instead of following them to their car, I paused just outside the building, in the designated area for drop-offs and pick-ups.
“I’m going to catch a ride in a taxi,” I said.
My mother’s brow furrowed. “What? Why?”
“I have somewhere to go,” I said, unable to hold back my smile. A taxi pulled up to the curb and I stepped toward it. “Don’t worry, I’ll call you guys later.”
I was getting into the taxi before either of them could protest or question me further. I had thought a lot about my mom today, remembering the way that I allowed her to drag me away from Briggs yesterday and the crazy lengths I went to just to convince her that I was in a relationship instead of telling her to back off. I had come to the conclusion that I needed to change our dynamic by being firm with her from now on. That started by separating from my parents at the airport and heading to the address that I’d gotten from Michael before we left the island.
When the taxi pulled up in front of Briggs’s apartment building, I got out, still lugging around my suitcase and carry-on bag. I didn’t want to waste time going home. I needed to talk to Briggs in person, to tell him all the things I should’ve already said.
I knocked on the wooden door and waited, my pulse racing. I was about to put myself out there completely, and there was no denying that I was nervous about it.