Page 3 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
“OK.” She handed Coco the Branch Industries cup and held up the one with the photo on it. “To waking up and starting over.”
“Cheers.” Coco clinked mugs with Erin. “I was just saying the same thing to her. You have your entire life ahead of you, Mia. And we’ve already decided this was a blessing in disguise. He didn’t deserve you.” She touched her cup to mine before taking a sip.
“You decided that. I will never feel that this humiliation is anything but punishment.”
“Punishment for what?” Erin asked. “What could you possibly need punishing for?”
I groaned. “God, so many things… For ignoring everyone who told me Tucker would never settle down and feeling so fucking superior that I was proving them wrong. For ignoring that little voice in the back of my brain telling me something was off. For refusing to admit to anyone—or even to myself—that everything wasn’t perfect between us, and maybe getting married wasn’t the right idea.”
“Even so, you don’t deserve punishment.” Erin rubbed my leg. “You’re human, Mia. We all make mistakes.”
“This was more than just a mistake. I deliberately ignored any sign that I was making the wrong decision. All I could think about was pulling off the dream wedding. And it was nothing but a stupid fantasy.” Anger at myself knotted with my wrath for Tucker, pulling my stomach muscles so tight they ached.
“See? That’s what I’m saying,” Coco soothed. “You knew this was coming, deep down inside. Better to know now before you married him, right?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and lifted the cup to my lips. The bitterness of the French roast laced with the sweetness of Bailey’s tasted so good, I took two more big swallows before speaking. “I know. Rationally, I know what you’re saying is true, but all I can think about are the thousand little details that were supposed to make this day the biggest, bestest day of my life.” I gestured toward my closet door, where a wedding dress still hung, wrapped in its protective bag. “That’s my wedding gown over there. Which I paid for myself. Which I should be wearing tonight at five o’clock when four hundred-plus people watch me walk down the aisle on the rooftop of the Ritz. Oh, God—” I gave Coco a panicked look. “Tell me someone called the Ritz.”
She rubbed my hand. “Those things were taken care of. And you do so much business with all those vendors, most of them didn’t even keep your deposit.”
Relief loosened the tension in my shoulders. I’d been so out of it over the past week, I wasn’t sure what had been done. I’d had clients cancel a wedding once or twice in my career, but never with only a week to go. “It wasn’t my deposit. They can keep Tucker’s money, for all I care. He won’t miss it.” I took another glug of coffee. “What about the guests?”
“Done,” said Erin. “You’ve got nothing to worry about except moving forward.”
“I’m totally doing that.” I lifted up a pillow with a hole in the case. “See?”
Erin paled, not easy for a girl with her fair Irish complexion. “I’m just gonna take that gown out of here, OK honey? Be right back.” She set her coffee cup on the tray and grabbed the dress, scurrying from the room with a worried expression.
I watched her go, a vise squeezing my heart. “That dress was the one, Coco. I felt it the moment I put it on. Now I’ll never wear it again.”
“You might,” Coco said hopefully. “You never know.”
“I won’t. I’ll die an old maid, cold and alone. I won’t even have cats because I’m allergic to them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mia, please. You’re twenty-seven.”
“But I wanted to be married by twenty-eight, and now that’s impossible! I wanted to start a family by thirty, and I’ll have to scrap that plan too!”
“Now you just sound ridiculous. Your uterus is not going to shrivel up and die at age thirty.”
“Sorry for being ridiculous about my dreams.” My chin jutted out. “But that’s how I feel.”
She rubbed my back. “You want to talk about it some more?”
“What’s left to say?”
“I don’t know. Are you…are you sad about losing Tucker? Or just about the wedding?”
I swallowed hard. “Both, I guess.”
“Do you still love him?”
My first reaction was revulsion, but then his handsome face swam before my eyes. And I could still smell him on the sheets. He always smelled so good, and dressed so impeccably. And he could be thoughtful and generous and fun. We’d had so many plans together, starting tonight. Tucker, how could you do this to me? My throat tightened. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“I wish you would have said something about those doubts you had. I feel awful that I didn’t sense them. I see you every day. We talked about this wedding nonstop.” Her blue eyes were full of guilt.
“It’s not your fault. I put on a good show.” I shrugged. “People were always saying what a perfect couple we made. I was trying to be that.”
“You looked perfect,” Erin clarified as she returned to the bed. “But no one knows anything about anyone else’s relationship for real. Look at my parents—married for twenty years before my mom got sick of his closet alcoholism and mean behavior and left. People were shocked. I can’t tell you how many of her friends said to her, ‘Your marriage seemed so perfect.’” She shook her head. “They were clueless, even her best friends, because in public he was so charming. She kept it all in because she was embarrassed.”
