Page 198 of So Not Meant To Be
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“Doyou think people will be able to see it?” Lottie asks, looking into the mirror.
“With our concealer, no one will be the wiser,” Meredith, our makeup artist, says, reassuring Lottie.
It wasn’t a zit that she needed to worry about, but rather a hickey. Apparently, Huxley wanted to claim what was his one more time without a ring. And he did in spectacular fashion, right on the middle of her neck.
Unfortunately for me and my fragile state of affairs, seeing my sister with a hickey and about to get married only made me consider my current situation, which of course led to me having a mental breakdown in my sister’s bathroom. When I came out with puffy eyes and Lottie asked me what was the matter, I told her I’d gotten a charley horse while on the toilet and that it nearly made me fall to the ground in writhing pain. She told me Huxley got a charley horse the other night while pumping into her and that it was so bad, it made his penis shrivel right up. I’m not sure I’ll be able to look at Huxley the same after hearing that.
But I’ve been able to hold it together ever since, enough to feed myself, wash my body, and even engage in conversation about how excited I am for Lottie to be getting married. It’s been great.
“So, you never told me how last night went. Did you cash in on your text?” Lottie asks.
Well... itwasgreat.
“Uh, not really,” I say, knowing I can’t lie to my sister, that she’ll see right through me. “Too drunk.”
Keep it at that, simple.
“You weren’t that drunk. Did you chicken out on me? You didn’t have to do the twirl. Was it the twirl that got you?”
There was no way in hell I was even mentioning the twirl last night.
“No, it just... it wasn’t happening,” I say, crossing my legs.
She frowns. “What do you mean it wasn’t happening?”
“I mean... he wasn’t... in the mood,” I draw out, hoping Meredith signed that NDA Huxley makes everyone who walks into his house sign.
“He wasn’t in the mood?” Lottie asks as Meredith blots concealer on the hickey. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he wasn’t in the mood. Can we drop it? Because I feel emotional about it and I don’t want to be emotional on your wedding day. It’s supposed to be happy and fun, not depressing.”
“Yes, but I don’t want you to have to force a smile. We need to talk this out.”
“Hello?” Ellie calls from the entryway. Just great... “Where are you guys?”
“Upstairs bedroom,” Lottie calls out.
“Can we not talk about this with her?” I ask. “I’m really... I’m embarrassed. Last night was such a disaster, and the more I think about it, the more I just want to curl up and cry. Trust me, I’m highly emotional, and you don’t want that while we’re getting ready.” My eyes well up.
Lottie reaches her hand out to me, and I take it. “But you’re hurting, and I can’t have you hurting right now. How could you have any fun today if you bottle it all up?”
Ellie comes through the door at that moment, a box of baked goods in one hand and her dress bag in the other. “Sorry I’m late, the baby was being fussy, and I hate to be that person, but I really wanted to make sure everything was okay before I left.” She studies me, then Lottie, then me again, and she winces. “Oh, he told you. How are you doing?”
Told me...
Told me what?
I sit taller and so does Lottie, her protective-big-sister instincts kicking in. “Told her what?” Lottie asks.
Ellie’s face drains of all color as she once again looks between us. “Uh... what was that?” She blinks a few times.
Lottie turns to Meredith and asks, “I’m so sorry, but could you give us a moment?”
“Not a problem, gives me a chance to check in with the kids.”
Meredith takes off, shutting the door behind her, and Lottie spins in her seat and asks, “What are you talking about, Ellie?”
