Page 22 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

“Well, we have a lot of cake!"

I can already feel the tears, and a little laughter, starting to come as I turn the corner."Cake might help. Booze didn't. Might as well try desserts."

Six sets of eyes snap to me, all wearing different versions of sadness, pity, and worry.The worry is obviously my parents. And looking back, what I did yesterday was pretty stupid, so I really need to apologize for that.

The combination of sadness and pity is from my three sisters. I mean, I’m the baby. I expected them to have these looks.

Then there's my brother Simon. The only way to describe his gaze is relieved with a splash of anger that I'm pretty sure is reserved for Duncan.

But as he walks toward me and brings me in for a hug, and his eyes don’t soften, I wonder if I'm reading him wrong. Is he mad at me?

"One, are you okay? Two, where did you go last night, and does it have any correlation with whose clothes you’re wearing?”

Of course Simon has to point out my walk of shame outfit. "Yes, I'm okay. And I’m safe. That’s all that matters.”

He grunts something under his breath, though I can’t hear him because my mom is tearing Simon away to wrap me in a hug of her own.

No, not a hug. This is a vise squeeze.

“I was so worried,” she says, somehow making her hold tighter. “Are you okay?”

My first instinct is to say that I am, though I think everyone in this room would know that’s a lie. So I say the only thing I know to be truthful right now. “I don’t know.”

“Shut the fuck up…”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“No fucking way…”

“Language! We aren’t damn heathens!”

“A hooker! As in a prostitute?”

“I need to call the firm…”

Two hours later I’ve showered, put on clothes that I had in my suitcase from yesterday because I’m an over packer by nature, and have a full stomach of breakfast food. I’ve also given the full post mortem on how Stella Banks became a runaway bride.

I told them about the money.

I told them about the maxed-out credit card.

And I told them about Nadia.

That’s the one that shocked them the most. I mean, I can’t blame them. I don’t think anyone had “catch Duncan getting flogged by a dominatrix in the honeymoon suite” on their bingo cards.

After I wrapped up all the details—and I spared none—Simon and my dad exited the room, likely to come up with a plan to have Duncan conveniently disappear. Which means it’s just the girls now, which I’m grateful for. I love my dad and brother, but sometimes you just need your sisters and your mom to tell you everything’s going to be okay.

Quinn breaks the silence, though she doesn’t have much to say. “I…I just…”

“Yup.” It’s all I can say. I try to think of something more as I take a long sip of the hot cup of coffee. Normally I’m an iced vanilla latte girl, but today, strong, hot, black coffee is exactly what the doctor ordered. “I do need to say that I’m sorry. I reacted in the worst way possible. I shouldn’t have just run off. I should have sent more than a text. I feel horrible for that.”

“Don’t apologize for the reaction,” Maeve says. “No one could ever know how they’re going to react to a situation that is so out-of-left-field it almost doesn’t seem real.”

“I know it wasn’t something I could have practiced a reaction for, but just sending y’all a text message saying that ‘Duncan cheated. And lied. Wedding’s off. Don’t look for me.’? That was shitty of me. So yes, I do need to apologize.”

Mom leans over and puts her hand on my leg. “You said enough. Plus, I saw your face before you left. You already had one foot out the door. You just didn’t realize it.”

I nod, knowing she’s right. She’s always right.

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