Evangeline

I insisted on my own room at San Esteban Suites, where the wedding party is staying. Mom wanted me to share with Chanel, but I figured that would get uncomfortable if Thomas wanted to join us. Not to mention, it hasn't even been a full twenty-four hours and I'm heartily sick of Chanel.


I'm kind of amazed I got my way in the end, but now that I know that I can speak up with Dad and never lose his love, I'm not so afraid of losing Mom. If I do, that's on her.

When I wake up on the morning of Chanel's wedding, my phone is full of texts. None from Leonard or Carter, who suddenly went silent a few days ago. They've probably given up, which I tell myself is for the best even though my heart is fucking broken.

Don't think about that. Not today. Get through the wedding, and then I can grieve.


Most texts are from Saige and Maya, sending me hilarious memes they've made about weddings gone wrong, and karma, and how cheaters never change.

It's weird, but I actually don't want things to suck for Chanel. Thomas, yeah, he can choke on a bag of dicks. And I'm not a huge fan of my mom right now, who has made nothing but passive aggressive comments about my 'little vacation" since I got back yesterday morning.


Other texts are from the bag of dicks himself—Thomas. He's been trying to get me alone since I flew in from France yesterday, and when that doesn't work, he texts me things about the mistakes he's made and how much he wants me. I shut him down each time, telling him he's getting cold feet, telling him this is inappropriate. He doesn't listen. Absolute asshole. I told Mom, but she said she's told Chanel and Chanel doesn't care.

And still more texts are from my mom, micromanaging every aspect of my 'duties" as maid of honor.

I text her back one line: Thomas is still texting me. You're sure Chanel is okay with this?

She responds immediately. She's fine, don't bother her with it.

'Fine," I mutter to the bathroom mirror before taking my shower. I put on the little lavender sundress I bought in Paris. Because there aren't any bridesmaids, I got to pick whatever I wanted to wear as long as it was lavender, which is probably the only good thing about this wedding.

There's a knock at my hotel room door. It's probably Mom, ready to escort me to Chanel's room to help her, as if I wasn't already heading there myself.

'Hang on," I say as I grab my sandals and phone.

When I open the door, it isn't my mom—it's Thomas.

He looks terrible. Even though he's wearing a suit and it should make him appear dapper and put together, something about it screams 'fake." His brown hair is combed, his face clean-shaven. A lavender rose is his boutonniere and it looks out of place. It's as if the boutonniere, like me, wishes it was anywhere but near Thomas.

'You gotta listen to me, Evangeline," he says.

'I really don't."

Leaning forward, he traps me between himself and the edge of the doorway. 'I fucked up. Chanel's pregnant."

I stare up at him, too shocked to shove him back. 'She's—what? What?"

'Pregnant. I always pulled out?—"

Ew.

'Too much information, Thomas." I try to duck under one of his arms.

His hand falls, heavy, on my shoulder as he tries to keep me in place. 'Your mom is pressuring me to go through with this, but I still want to be with you, Evangeline. Please. I made so many mistakes."

And now Chanel will have his kid. It's so fucked up on so many different levels. The touch of his hand on my bare skin makes my stomach lurch with nausea.

'Thomas." I take a deep breath, praying for patience. 'I don't know how to say it any differently. There is nothing between us anymore, and there never will be again."

A woman rounds the corner—my mother in her silk dress patterned with lavender flowers. She looks between Thomas and me, and her eyes narrow at the sight of Thomas's hand on my shoulder. 'Your sister is waiting for you, Evangeline. She needs your help."

'I was on my way," I tell her.

'We will see you soon," she says to Thomas in an even voice that allows no room for argument.

As soon as we're out of Thomas's earshot, she stops walking and whirls to face me. Her hand digs into my forearm, but I wrench myself away before she can get a good grip. What is it with these people trying to manhandle me?

'What are you doing," she hisses. 'Throwing yourself at your sister's fiancé? I'm ashamed of you, Evangeline."

'I wasn't?—"

'This is her wedding. And what are you wearing? You look like a slut."

Tears prick my eyes. I wasn't throwing myself at Thomas. And this dress is pretty, and it makes me feel pretty. Or at least, it did a few minutes ago. Now, not so much.

Why does she have to ruin everything that makes me happy?

'Let's go," she says, marching down the hall and not waiting to see if I'll follow.

We make it into Chanel's suite without further conversation. The mood is somber as we watch Chanel get her hair and make-up done by professionals. I keep looking at her stomach. Pregnant. My sister is going to have Thomas's baby. I feel like I should have some sort of emotional reaction to this news, but other than my initial surprise, nothing.

Someone walks down the hall, blaring a commentary on the Surf Rats game that we can hear through the closed door. I wonder if Leonard is following it. I want to text them even if they don't want to be with me. I need closure, but I just need to get through this stupid wedding before I bring on more drama.

I miss them so damn much.

Mom watches me carefully, like she thinks I'm out to sabotage this wedding. Quite the contrary. The sooner it happens, the sooner I can leave this ticking drama bomb behind.

The hair and make-up stylists finish their work and leave. Mom gets up to use the restroom, giving me a warning glare as she goes.

Chanel and I are alone.

'You look beautiful," I say.

'Thanks." Her eyes are on herself in the mirror.

It's on the tip of my tongue to mention what Thomas has been saying to me about mistakes and wanting to get back together. But is Mom right—am I trying to wreck this day for Chanel?

Mom already told her. And Chanel's pregnant, so maybe she's willing to put Thomas's shittiness aside so the baby will have a father.

Before I can make up my mind and say anything at all, Mom comes out of the bathroom and says, 'It's time to go."

It's just a quick car ride, during which Chanel and Mom rehash the ceremony details, and then we're at the side entrance of Blackberry Park that leads into the rose garden.

'What is he doing here?" my mom sneers.

Standing at the entrance to the rose garden are two handsome men. My breath catches, trapped in my lungs and throat, at the sight of them looking so dignified and distinguished. They're in jeans and t-shirts, not wedding finery. But Leonard and Carter don't need to wear suits or tuxes to look amazing.

I don't know exactly why they're here, but whatever they want, now isn't the time.