Page 80 of Abyss

Because anyone before her has literally turned to dust in my memories.

After giving Maddy a kiss on her cheek, I place her hand in Brie’s, and turn toward the front row to find my seat.

But right as I do, my gaze halts and my brows pinch as a man of perhaps thirty, with highlighted blonde tips in his otherwise dark hair, reaches for Kavi’s face. He gently tugs a small stray wildflower out of a ringlet of her hair in a move that’s so intimate and easy, it makes violence simmer in my blood. His hand lingers near her cheek, as if he’s contemplating caressing her jaw with his thumb before he thinks better of it, and hands the flower to her with a smile.

And here’s the kicker.She fucking smiles back—soft, shy, and appreciative—as if they’d just shared a familiar gesture.

Disconnecting from the man next to her, Kavi’s eyes climb back up to find me. Her smile vanishes when shefollows my line of sight, apprehension and guilt thundering over her expression.

If she wasn’t able to read my thoughts before, I’m sure she can see them written all over my goddamn face now.

The asshole just wrote his own death sentence, and I’ll be happy to deliver.

Chapter Twenty-Three

KAVI

This has to be a picture out of a magazine.

It’s the only way to describe the setting—a large wooden barn, adorned with draped linens and glimmering fairy lights behind a wedding arbor woven with delicate wildflowers where Brie stands, waiting for her bride in a white, two-piece satin and lace jumpsuit with a luxurious detachable skirt. Even from my vantage point, seated near the front on one of the wooden benches, I can tell she’s barely holding herself together.

The air is sweetly scented with blooming flowers intertwined with subtle notes of hay and damp earth. I silently thank the heavens above, for both Brie’s and Madison’s sakes, for sparing us from rain today. They had plans to move the wedding into the barn just in case, but thankfully, that doesn’t seem likely at the moment.

Shifting my gaze to my hands, I turn the silver band around my thumb. It sounds cliche, but weddings always choke me up. Maybe it has to do with all the love floating in the air, seeping into my lungs with each breath, or maybe it’s the fact that the idea of forever feels unobtainable and elusiveto me. Not by choice, I’ve grown accustomed to walking alone, being alone. Sure, I’ve dated here and there, but nothing has ever lasted, nothing has ever felt permanent, like it was mine. Perhaps it’s time to accept that this could be my future at every wedding—always the guest and never the bride.

There’s a rustle in the seats next to me as a handsome man, a little older than me, slides between the benches and guests, asking for permission to sit next to me.

I scoot over, wondering why he had to make such a spectacle for this one seat when there are seats left at other benches. Without a seating chart, the guests were asked to sit anywhere besides the front row.

“Hey, Kavi?” he asks, leaning in.

“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” He juts out his hand, and I place mine against his warm palm. “But I hope you decide to. I’m Adam, Brie’s friend. Maddy and Brie have told me a lot about you.”

“Oh!” I say, surprised. “It’s great to meet you. They said I’d be seeing you today.”

Even at Belinda’s house the other day, Brie had mentioned how excited she was for me to meet her friend, going on about how he was a great catch for anyone, but that because he lived in Portland, it would be nice for me to know someone before I moved there.

“I hope you don’t mind me being so, uh . . . forward. I don’t usually trample wedding guests to come sit by a woman, but then I saw how beautiful you were and, well, I decided I didn’t care if I squashed a few to get to you.”

The blush creeping into Adam’s cheek has me smiling back at him. He’s cute, though I’m not quite sure what to think about the blonde tips in his otherwise dark hair. But who am I to judge personal style? Most of my clothes, if not adecade old, come from thrift stores, including the beautiful chiffon pink dress I’m wearing.

Clearly, I’m not one to obsess over what I wear or the way I look. I don’t follow trends or go on shopping sprees often, but even I can admit, this dress makes me feel like a million dollars.

And while Adam’s compliment has my confidence boosted, it wasn’t his eyes I was hoping to please.

No, the ones I was hoping for aren’t clear azure skies like Adam’s, they’re stormy seas swelling under a wild tempest.

It’s been . . . complicated between me and Hudson ever since the night in his office. And though we’ve found ways to skirt around talking about that night, it’s been on constant replay in my head.

But aside from his gestures of friendship, like driving me to see Jojo that night and holding me after my awful nightmare, or even ensuring that I got to the wedding in a chauffeured car, he’s been nothing but cordial.

But that’s just it . . . It’s been cordial, friendly, and professional.

But not the same.

So when Brie and Maddy encouraged me to meet Adam, I reluctantly said yes.

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