Page 85 of A Storybook Wedding

“My mind is made up. Now go, before I have to call security to get you out of my sight. I want you both on the first ferry out of here tomorrow morning. Nate, HR will be in touch with you regarding your final paycheck. Cecily, I’ll have the bursar contact you about whatever payments you’ve made for the semester.”

She sniffles through her weeping and manages to say, “I have a scholarship.”

“Not to Matthias. Not anymore, you don’t.”

“Dillon!” I yell. “This isn’t her fault. You want to get rid of someone? Get rid of me. But leave Cecily out of this. She worships you, Dillon. She thinks the fucking world of you. Please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry,” CJ says. The makeup is smearing down her face, and she takes off her glasses so that she can swipe at it with the back of her hand. She looks like she’s melting, dissolving right in front of me, and it breaks me to know that I am powerless to stop it.

“So am I,” Dillon says. “This conversation is over.” He pushes back his chair, stands up, and makes for the door. He stops before exiting the room and says, “You’ve got what it takes, Cecily. I meant every word of what I said in my introduction of you tonight. But I can’t let you make an ass of me. You made your bed. And now, the two of you can lie in it.”

He turns away from us before I can think of anything else to say.

Once he’s gone, I look at CJ, searching her face for something, although I’m not sure what. Poor girl. She’s a total fucking mess. She won’t look at me though.

“Hey,” I whisper.

Nothing.

“Sweetheart. Please look at me.”

Still nothing. She stares up at the spot where the wall meets the ceiling, far away from my line of sight. Tears continue to stream down her face.

“Come on. Let’s get upstairs,” I suggest.

She doesn’t speak to me. Her jaw is set, eyes glassy. I stand, and she follows. I don’t know what she’s feeling, but here in the library, while a grad party begins to roar just feet away from us, it’s not the proper time or place for the conversation—that much I do know. The nerves in my digestive system grip me, threatening to take me hostage. I did this. This is my fault.

I fucked everything up.

Once we’re upstairs, she heads straight for the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. I sit on the edge of our bed and replay the last hour of events over in my head.

I should never have talked to her parents.

She should never have picked up the phone.

My blood pressure rises.

Fuck.

My job.

I lost my job. After all we went through to save it, I lost my fucking job.

“Hey, CJ?” I call out.

And CJ—the smartest, most hardworking girl I’ve ever met—just got kicked out of grad school.

What the actual fuck?

I hear the water running. I stand and go over to the bathroom door. I try the knob. It’s locked.

“CJ?” I say, louder this time.

She’s mad at me.

Not mad—furious.

I just didn’t want her parents and her sister to be upset with her.

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