Page 86 of A Storybook Wedding

But no—I was wrong. I shouldn’t have touched her phone. I should have let her handle it.

“CJ?” I try once more, just a little louder, in case she couldn’t hear me the last two times.

Silence.

“Please leave me alone,” she says. Her voice is steady but quiet. She’s not yelling. She’s just stating her request, matter-of-factly, as if she just asked me to get her a sandwich.

I’m not sure why, but the words sting me worse than everything Dillon said to us downstairs.

My stomach bottoms out, and I fear I might be sick. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” I ask through the door. My heart is pounding. Pounding.

“If you care about me at all, please, Nate, just give me some space.”

The weight of her words crushes my lungs. Suddenly, my body begins moving on autopilot.

I should pack, my brain decides, pulling my luggage out of the closet.

My ears hear her slide open the bathtub curtain and then pull it closed again.

I can’t believe this is really happening. I toss the clothes out of my three drawers and into the bag.

I can’t stay here, I tell myself. She said she needs space.

I look down at my hands. I’m shaking. I rub them on my thighs to get them to stop.

What is this feeling?

Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by a fury that rolls over me like a snowball down a hill, picking up speed and momentum and gaining in size and strength with each passing second.

I want to put my fist through the bathroom door.

Nothing feels real or right or rational, and the room begins to spin.

I need to go.

Now.

I punch at my phone screen with my thumbs. The nearest Uber is seven minutes away. It takes me less than three minutes to put all my shit in my bag. I don’t even bother with the stuff in the bathroom. I’ll just buy new stuff when I get home. I put on my coat and take one last look at the room before I go.

I guess not all fairy tales end with a happily-ever-after.

I toss my key on the bed and shut the door quietly behind me.

I don’t even say goodbye.

Four minutes later, I’m in a car in the darkness.

Giving her space.

CHAPTER 17

Cecily

I let the shower steam soak into my pores. The firm spray courses into my hair and runs down my back, my legs, and into the drain.

I want to wash this day off me. There’s so much to process.

Kicked out of school. If this were a yearbook superlative, I would be the one voted least likely to ever have this happen.

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