Page 81 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“Can we not do hypotheticals?” she asks. “Come on, Hudson.” She shakes her head and sticks her headphones back on. I realize then that there isn’t going to be a fighting chance that I can get through to her.
There wasn’t last night, and there sure as hell won’t be today.
She has shut me out.
Completely.
Stoic, uninterested, she wants nothing to do with me, and you know what? I can’t even be fucking mad about it. I was the one who wanted this distance. I was the one who told her no time and time again. She’s given in, and there’s no reason why I should be this mad.
This irritated.
This itchy to have her back.
At least when she was walking around the house naked and in an apron, she was still herself.
Sassy.
Mouthy.
Keeping me on my goddamn toes.
Now she’s…hell, she’s slipping away. But maybe…maybe that’s a good thing. Because don’t I need to focus on the business? Don’t I need to focus on maintaining all the relationships involved? The distance should be good. The distance will make the end of this journey easy.
At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself of.
Instead of attempting to get her to pay attention to me, I let her turn onAnchormanas I pull my phone from my pocket and text my brother.
Hudson: I’m losing it.
While I wait for him to text back, I adjust my pillow and kick up my feet on the footrest in front of me. I glance at Sloane, who already has a blanket covering her and is looking extra cozy. I consider talking to her again but know there’s no use, at least not here, on the plane where Devin the Douche can hear us.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I immediately read the text.
Hardy: Let me guess, Sloane?
Hudson: Yes. We’re on our way to London, and I’ve managed to make a complicated situation exponentially more complicated.
Hardy: Sounds about right. Didn’t you know, happy wife, happy life?
Hudson: Apparently not.
Hardy: What did you do this time?
Hudson: The better question is, what didn’t I do? Christ, man, I’m not cut out for this shit.
Hardy: What’s going on?
Hudson: She’s detached herself, which I should be happy about, but I’m not. She has zero need to talk to me, interact. She plays the part when she needs to, but fuck, when we’re alone, it’s as if I’m nothing.
Hardy: Umm…shouldn’t that be a good thing?
Hudson: Yes! But I don’t fucking like it and then she ran into an old friend in the airport who happens to be on the same flight and in the wedding, but he’s also the one guy that’s ever made her orgasm. The way she talks about him, you would think he’s a goddamn hung horse.
Hardy: Well, is he? Have you looked inside his pants?
Hudson: Don’t be a jackass.
Hardy: How do you know he’s not hung?
