Page 199 of Bridesmaid Undercover
From: Hardy Hopper
Subject: Please…
Everly,
I’d really like to go over the details in person. Please reconsider your thoughts on the matter. I want nothing more than to prove to you that I didn’t intend to hurt you.
I miss you.
Hardy
To:Hardy Hopper
From: JP Cane
Subject: Save the Pigeons
Dear friend,
It’s been a while since we last spoke. I’m afraid I’ve been busy with a lot of endeavors, but I will tell you one thing I’m never too busy for, and that’s saving the pigeons.
Recently, the pigeon adoption agency I’ve been working with has encountered some hardships with being short on staffing and foster homes, which is why I’m reaching out to you. Have you ever considered fostering a pigeon? Now is the time to give it some good thought. They are excellent companions, offer a great deal of entertainment, and are beautiful to look at.
We are looking for a few individuals with safe homes to take in a few of our pigeon friends. If you’re interested, please click here. Please open your heart and home and help us save the pigeons.
Your friend,
JP Cane
From my car,I stare at the Magical Moments by Maggie storefront and contemplate if I should go in or not.
I did drive all the way here with the intention of going inside the store, but now that I’m here, I’m second-guessing that decision. Because what am I really going to say to her? She asked me to leave, she’s ignored my text messages, and she denied me any meetup for the party we’re throwing together. She clearly—and understandably—doesn’t want me around, and I handled the entire situation completely wrong.
And yet, here I am with a box of matcha Oreo cronuts, ready to fucking beg her to forgive me.
If I’m going to try to win her back, to get her to listen to me, I’m going to have to go about this in a different way. Because here’s the thing, I think we all know I messed up the morning after. No, I didn’t just mess it up—I destroyed any possible hope of making that night magical.
I tainted it with my idiocy.
Therefore, if I walk into the office with a cheery disposition and say, “Hey Everly, guess what? Haisley said I can date you. So, when would you like to go out?” I think we all know that’s not going to go over well.
I think her exact words would be, “Oh, so your sister says we can date, so now it’s okay?”
See the mistake in there?
She doesn’t want permission.
She doesn’t want excuses.
She wants to be wanted, and that’s what I have to show her. She needs to know that I’ll never want another woman the way I want her.
She’s it for me.
That has become clearer with every day without her.
So, that’s why I grab the box of cronuts and head toward the storefront, knowing full well that this could go two ways. She could be excited to see my face but be upset—which is ideal because that I can work with. Or she could hate me with every fiber of her being and tell me to leave, only to toss the cronuts at my retreating back.
For some reason, I have a sinking feeling it’s going to be the latter.
