Page 52 of Words We Didn't Say

Should I...?

No one had taught me the right things to say or how to navigate all the confusing paths in a relationship—certainly not my father. Therapy had helped, but that was all theory, no practice. When life forced me into a corner, I came out swinging. I’d been hurt too many times not to fight for myself. But I needed to make this right.

I swiped my finger to unblock Zach’s number and opened a new message. I stared at the blank screen.

What should I say?Sorry, I was a bitch even though you treated me like shit. That wasn’t an apology.Sorry, I couldn’t behave like an adult after you told me no one knew I existed.Probably not.

Maybe all I needed to say was…sorry.

Before I could start tapping out a message, Sam whooped out a cheer. “Crew!”

I glanced up from my phone. The silhouettes crammed around the dark table glowed amber under the chandeliers. Rugby players. Women I vaguely knew from the social scene.

An arm stacked with rows and rows of clinking gold bangles shot into the air. Yvette beamed like a disco ball in her sequindress and patted the empty stool beside her. Andie slumped on the other side, shoulders rolled over a tall glass of beer, her customary all-black invisible in the gloom. A row of empty glasses lined the table in front of her.

My phone disappeared into my clutch. My apology to Zach would have to wait.

Showtime.

I pushed my shoulders back, pasted on a smile, and dodged through the gaps to take up the spot between my friends.

I smirked at Andie. “I guess the party started without me.”

She grunted.

I nodded at the line of glasses. “How many of those have you knocked back, exactly?”

“Not enough to drown out her”—Andie pointed at Yvette—“and all the crapping on about bridesmaid dresses. Navy blue, off-the-shoulder, in case you’re wondering.”

“Call me an optimist,” Yvette cooed. “But you never know who you might run into at one of those corporate events.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, I think you knewexactlywho’d be there.”

Yvette didn’t look remotely guilty, but her life was spared when Sam’s head popped in between us.

“Girlies.” He beamed his half-winking grin. “How about some drinks?”

“Maybe a cantarito for me and Vettie?” I fumbled with my clutch to pass him my bank card. “A beer for Andie.”

Sam put his meaty paw over my hand. “My shout for this round, babe.”

I studied my hand as he lumbered off into the crowd. No tingles. No little zings like when Zach had touched my wrist at the stadium. Nothing.

Yvette turned to me. “Isn’t Sam a doll? You two will make such beautiful babies.” Her smile was sly. “Unless, of course, someone else caught your eye? Someone tall, dark, and scowly, perhaps?”

“It’s super cute you think you can interfere in my love life,” I said. “There’s just one little problem with your scheme.”

Yvette cackled. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t think so—”

“Michaela was there,” I said.

Yvette’s jaw dropped.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Andie growled. She was already pushing off the stool when my hand clutched her arm, pulling her back. She tried to shrug me off. “Let go.”

“Not a chance,” I said, shoving her back on the stool.

“I know where the suit lives,” Andie said. “After all his bullshit today, I’m going to kill him if he thinks he’s making a fool outta me.”

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