Both Haven and Maeve cringed, which I got. But I had a type—and Harris had matched it exactly. I liked my boys preppy and clean-cut. I had since...well, I had for a long time.
“Anyway, we fell in love. Even looked at engagement rings after we’d been together a year, but we wanted to graduate college first.”
Now, the idea of being married was preposterous to me, but back then, I’d had mega stars in my eyes. I’d been twenty-one and in love.
Maeve clasped her hands over her knee. “Okay, so how did you get from there to wantin’ to dip this man in acid?”
“Ugh. Because we had the worst non-breakup of all time. Toward the end of our second year together, things got a little patchy. He had decided to get serious, since he was planning on going to law school after NYU, which meant he wanted me to get serious too. I wasnotready to be the good little girl who stayed home while her man studied, but I tried. I alsodidkiss someone else while hammered, but Harris never knew.”
Did a glass of champagne count as hammered? I thought it did.
Haven gave me a look. “Are you sure?”
“Just a kiss?” Maeve asked.
“Yes, I’m sure, and yes, just a kiss.” I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows, remembering that kiss and all that came after it. “Harris dumped me out of the blue. He wouldn’t give me a clear answer, just that he decided we weren’t a good fit and he couldn’t trust me. Then he pretty much ghosted me. I have not spoken a word to him since we broke up. Our mutual friends ghosted right along with him. So, I graduated, went to work for Mo, and licked my wounds while I toured with Unrequited and drank away some brain cells.”
Maeve wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Aw, honey. That sounds awful. I’m sorry I wasn’t around to tell that guy to go fuck himself.”
Laughing, I hugged her back. Haven curled her arms around me from behind, sandwiching me between them. I’d needed these hugs about four years ago. Instead, I got lost in a drunken oblivion and bad, bad boys.
Once they pulled away, Maeve pushed my hair off my forehead. “Now that we know who this Harris dickpickle is, tell us about the text. Why is he emergin’ from whatever slimy lagoon he’s been in?”
“Well…” My cheeks burned with embarrassment over the situation I’d gotten myself into. “So, I ran into Jamie and Allie a couple days ago. They’re getting married and I haven’t RSVPed yet. Allie told me I was welcome to bring a friend since I’m clearly a lonely spinster who can’t land a man, and then I…” I covered my mouth and spoke quickly, “might have told them Alex was my very serious boyfriend and he would be accompanying me to the wedding.”
“Uh...why?” Haven asked, blinking at me like I’d truly lost the plot.
“He was with me at the time, helping take care of Simone, and it just slipped out…” I said, deeply ashamed.
Maeve canted her head, her long, shiny hair sliding over her shoulder. “Did Murray play along?”
“He did, surprisingly.” I picked up my phone to reread the text. “So, I guess me being with Alex got Harris’s attention.”
Haven wound her long, shiny blue hair up into a bun on top of her head, her face pensive. “I’ve got to say, I wouldn’t reply. He chose to ghost you, he can continue being a ghost. You don’t owe him any kind of explanation. Besides, you’re not actually going to the wedding, are you?”
“I can’t picture a reason I would. I loved Allie in college, and she was the one friend who didn’t completely ditch me post-Harris, but I don’t really want to spend days with the rest of them.”
“Exactly.” Haven took my phone from me and laid it facedown on the coffee table. “No texting the douchey ex. Let’s get ready to go out. All this talk of boys we dislike has given me the urge to get toasty.”
A couple hours later, after prettying ourselves up, the three of us, along with Mo’s favorite security guard, Mac, hit a club. Maeve and Haven were all about dancing, but I was more of a head bobber and drink sipper. One might think with my long limbs, I would have been gifted with grace, but that was not the case. I was all thumbs and kicks when I attempted to do anything but slow dance.
I watched as they moved to the beats, hips rocking, arms high in the air, and wondered how long it had been since I’d let go like that. When had I been comfortable enough with myself to be free and have fun without worrying about what anyone else thought of me?
Too long.
Without alcohol lubricating the way? Even longer.
My chest tightened as I let my mind slide back to my college days—to my Harris days. We were supposed to be married by now, maybe even have a bambino of our own. I’d wanted that life so badly then, but I could barely imagine it now.
Two drinks in, and I took out my phone, bringing up that text message. I knew better, but I slowly typed out a reply anyway. Before I hit send, my wits came back to me and I deleted the whole thing.
No. Harris was my history. My girls were right. He didn’t deserve me being more than a ghost in his life, not after the way he’d treated me.
Pleased with my decision, I freshened my drink and moved to the edge of the dance floor, swaying slightly so I could fool myself into believing I was part of it all.