“I didn’t. I don’t think anyone wants me around after what happened at brunch. I can’t say I blame them. I haven’t been the best sister or daughter lately.”
“Have you thought to talk to them? Your brother seems like a great guy. I don’t know much about your mother . . .” Her voice trails off. If you don’t have something nice to say . . .
“My mother is hard to deal with. She’s taught us that being proper is better than having feelings. When Tilly died, she didn’t even cry. Not a single tear. It’s hard to love someone who doesn’t care that her daughter died.”
“People grieve differently.”
“But not for their children. She was our sister, her daughter. She carried her for nine months and didn’t even smudge her mascara. Tilly’s funeral was one for the ages, though. She made sure no flower was out of place and no hors d’oeuvre was room temperature.”
I take a sip of the champagne, toeing my shoes off and flexing my feet. The shoes are gorgeous red bottoms but not made for running into bathrooms.
Silence descend upon us before the door to the suite opens. A beautiful girl with springy blonde curls bounces in and tackles Emerson.
“Mommy! You were gone for forever!”
Emerson laughs and kisses the little girl’s head before pulling her up on her lap. A striking man stands in the doorway. His dark hair is the perfect amount of mussed to be cute.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were having girl time.” He flashes Emerson a smile, and it’s like time stops. Their love is pronounced for all the world.
“It’s okay. Grant, this is Bliss, Royce’s sister. Bliss, this is my husband, Grant, and Gwen, our daughter.”
“Nice to meet you, Grant. That’s a really pretty dress you have on, Gwen.”
She crawls off her mother’s lap and twirls for us. “It’s a swishy dress. The kind you can make really big.”
I choke back a sob and tears pool in my eyes as I think of Tilly and me playing dress up in our room. Little girls pretending it was their wedding. She always made me play the groom, but I never minded. We were inseparable. I did whatever made her happy.
“I love a swishy dress, and yours is the swishiest,” I say.
I place my glass the table and brush a curl from her face. If I don’t leave, I’m going to break down in front of two strangers.
“Thanks for the talk, Emerson. I’m going to go find my date. Left alone too long, he’ll have a line of girls following him around. Nice to meet you, Grant.”
I leave the room, rubbing at the pain in my chest. I should have never come. I should have stayed away. I belong in L.A. Not around all this happiness. All this love.
“THAT WAS one hell of a party. I mean, your family is like fucking super rich.”
Ashton is leaning on me, his rum and Cokes having finally gotten to him. All that sugar must have him feeling pretty good right now.
“Yeah, a bunch of rich assholes. Did you see how Todd, my second-cousin, kept staring at my boobies? He’s so gross.”
“You do have a nice rack,” he says, peering over.
I smack his shoulder playfully and he grabs my hand. We walk down the street filled with nothing except the night sky and the sound of the ocean.
“I want to feel the water under my toes. Can we sit on the beach for a while? Tomorrow is going to suck so hard. I’d like to have my last night here with someone who matters to me.”
He kisses the top of my head, pulling me in the direction of the crashing waves. The boardwalk is quiet, all bustle of people gone. Peace washes over me as we make our way through the sand. It’s unusually cool now that the sun is gone.
He pulls me down onto the beach, then takes his jacket off and places it around my shoulder. We sit, huddled together, and listen to the waves. It’s too dark to see clearly.
“This is my happy place. I don’t think I could ever do the city thing like you or Carson.”
“What do you mean?” I know Carson moved to Bordentown, but I didn’t take him for a city guy. I figured he’d come from a generic California town.
“Carson’s from L.A. His parents live there.”
A spark of hope flashes inside of me, but then I remember that he left his parents. There is no way he’s going back. Our lives are different. We’re too different for this thing between us, whatever it is, to work.
Ashton’s phone beeps in his pocket. Leaning back, he answers the text, the soft glow of his phone the only thing that illuminates the night.
“Who’s that?” I ask casually. I shouldn’t pry, but that little butterfly eats away at my insides.
“This new girl Meg. She’s a friend of Andrea, another lifeguard. We’re meeting up tomorrow night.”
“Wait, the wedding is tomorrow night.” A rush of fear shoots through me. How could he forget?
“No, it’s not. It’s Sunday,” he says, but he doesn’t sound so sure of himself.
“It’s Saturday night. Ashton, we were just at the rehearsal dinner. The rehearsal dinner always happens the night before the wedding.”
“I’m a guy. We don’t know these things!”
“Can you cancel? I feel like such a jerk for asking you that, but I don’t have anyone to take.”
“She’s in town till Sunday morning. Then she’s off to Japan. How about Carson takes you?”
“What? He can’t take me. It’s—he’s . . . no, he can’t.”
“You two are going to have to face this eventually. If what you said earlier about it being real, then you owe it to each other to explore that.”
“I’m leaving after the wedding. I can’t stay in Bordentown. It won’t work.”
“It’s only a hundred
