Page 9 of Without You

Instead of saying it out loud, I nod, which only makes them laugh harder.

“My guess, that’s gonna be a thing sooner than later,” Owen murmurs.

I feel red stain my cheeks and duck my head.

“I agree. Since we were here at the beginning, I’m demanding that when it happens, you let us know. Besides, this is like a romance novel and I have all sorts of ideas rolling around in my head now.”

“Oh, boy,” I grumble as Owen chuckles.

“Don’t mind her. Everything turns into a book in her mind.”

“So I’m nothing special? Is that what you’re trying to say?” I ask, joking.

“Exactly.” Owen grins and it’s easy to see why Cami fell in love with him. Or, at least, was attracted to him.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Hannah and Cameron stand up together. She looks beautiful today, not that she doesn’t usually, and I feel not just a small pang of shame that I’ve been thinking the things that I’ve been thinking. Hannah’s not a bad person and I’m being catty, which I don’t like. It makes me feel like I’m in sixth grade all over again, talking bad about my friends behind their back. Whether Hannah and I are close or not is of no concern, we’re still friends and today’s her wedding day.

Together, Hannah and Cameron move about the reception hall, stopping to talk to all the guests and, presumably, thank them for coming. Cami and Owen are huddled together after Owen brought a chair over to sit next to her. It’s amazing how you can be surrounded by people but feel more alone than ever before.

I stand up and mutter that I need to use the restroom, even though I don’t think neither Cami nor Owen are paying attention, and make my way there. After doing my business and washing my hands, I stare at myself in the mirror.

Four months ago, the company I worked for let me go.

Because I’m the worst money manager in the history of money managing, and I have a spending habit paired with a wage that didn’t necessarily support this habit, I was forced to move home. And, also, forced to take a good hard look at what I’m doing with my life.

I have no job prospects, no real aspirations on what I want to do with my life. I’m thirty-two years old and am currently jobless, living with my parents, and have a pitiful amount of money in my checking account. Savings? I blew through about a quarter of that during the last four months that I’ve been out of work and was trying to find something else. I moved home before I spent it all because I got control of myself.

Oh, and the topping on the craptastic cake that is currently my pathetic excuse for a life? My cat died. Right in front of me as I was packing the contents of my ground floor apartment into the back of my dad’s truck, she got out when the door was left open, ran across the street right in front of a car, and that was that. It was awful and I cried right there in the middle of the street, yelling at the driver who wasn’t at fault, but I needed to blame someone and that poor man was there. He felt awful, kept apologizing and asking how he could help but there was nothing he could do.

To say I was in a bad mental place already would be putting it mildly and that just pushed me over the top. Since that day, just three weeks ago, I’ve been mopey, crying off and on in a constant pity party and I’m pretty sure my parents are days away from kicking me out if I don’t stop. Especially my daddy since he is letting me work for him in the meantime until I find something permanent and I’m certain he’s just tired of being around me. Two days ago, he snuck out of the house rather than the two of us riding together. I couldn’t even blame him, though. Quite honestly, after living on my own for over twelve years, being around my parents this often isn’t exactly thrilling.

I’m not normally a wreck, but everything snowballed since I lost my job because the company shut down. And, if I’m being honest, I’m not where I’d like to be at this point in my life. Filing papers at my dad’s insurance office and transferring them to the new online system isn’t how I expected to fill my days, but yet I’m grateful for it. If I didn’t at least have this to do to keep me busy, I’d be even more of a basket case than I already am.

I look at my reflection and reach into the pocket of my dress (yes, pockets! Hannah did good when she picked out the bridesmaids’ dresses) and pull out my deep red lipstick, reapplying a heavy coat along my bottom lip. I rub my lips together then fill them in with more color.

The door to the restroom opens and the sound of laughter fills the small space, right along with Hannah.

“Oh, good. I thought I saw you come in here and I have to pee so bad!” Hannah practically yanks up her skirt as she barges past me and into a stall. “Help me? Please, Katie?”

I jump to action and shake off my shock, trying not to laugh at her expression.

I help her hold her dress up, the material bunching around her chest. She takes a seat and sighs with relief, making me giggle. “Oh my gosh, I had to go so bad. I saw you come in here like ten minutes ago and kept trying to excuse myself but people kept talking to me and I couldn’t get away and I kept thinking I’m going to pee straight down my leg at my own wedding reception and after all the crap Brody just pulled that people will never forget, I didn’t want to add to the crazy that they would never forget,” she rambles and can’t stop talking.

Another laugh bubbles out of me. “People will forget the Brody thing, but probably not you wetting yourself, if it had happened.”

She snorts. “Right. And don’t lie, people won’t forget about Brody coming in here like a lunatic.”

Hannah rolls her eyes and I bite my bottom lip. “I’m sorry that happened,” I say, not knowing what else to say, handing her a bunch of toilet paper. I wouldn’t necessarily call him a lunatic, but I can see her point in being frustrated.

She finishes up and I help her stand, moving out of the stall before dropping her dress and moving to the sink to wash her hands.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“I am. I’m mad that he showed up, though. I thought he was over it. Over me.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes because that’s not what he showed up here for, but I don’t think anyone will be able to convince Hannah of that. “Well, you’re married now so it doesn’t matter, right?”

She beams and turns to face me, lifting her hand and squealing, “Very true. I’m married!”

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