Page 101 of #Moonstruck

The only other time I’d felt this kind of hopeless despair was the night I found out about my mom’s accident.

My phone rang. It rang and rang and rang. All the calls were from Ryan. I turned the phone off.

The cab driver brought me to my hotel, and I tipped him extra for leaving my tears and snot all over the back seat. My brain pounded, making it difficult to think or see. I don’t know how I got to the right floor. I found Fitz’s room, not wanting to be alone.

He called over Parker and Cole, and in between sobs I told them I needed to go back to California. I didn’t give them any details. I couldn’t talk about it yet. My brothers made a bunch of threats about going over to Ryan’s apartment, but I begged them not to. I just wanted to go home. And not on Ryan’s tour bus.

Fitz got online immediately and bought us four plane tickets. My brothers helped me pack up and took me and all our stuff to the airport.

Three hours later we were onboard a California-bound flight. I would go home, and things would be better. I’d get back to normal and live my life the way I had before I ever met Ryan.

Exhaustion claimed me, but as I drifted off to sleep, I knew there would be no going back. We were going to sell our house. I didn’t have a job or a place to live.

And Ryan had ripped out a huge chunk of my heart. I didn’t know how I’d go on living without it.

We sold the house to a pregnant couple. It gave me some measure of happiness to know that a family would live here and love it the same way we had.

Since that money would take care of Mom’s facility, Fitz split up all the money we had earned on tour with Ryan. It wasn’t a small amount, either. It enabled us to go off on our own. Get our own places. I bought a brand-new phone and had the salesman give me a new number. I found a reasonably priced studio apartment in Venice Beach. The area felt comfortable, familiar.

I would move on with my life.

Angie asked over and over again what had happened with Ryan and me, but I still wasn’t ready to talk about it.

“Just tell me this. Do I need to have Fox take him out for you?”

I laughed and cried at the same time, but I said I didn’t want to talk about him anymore. From time to time, I’d catch her with this look in her eyes, where I knew she wanted to tell me something about him, but she respected my wishes.

Today she and I were shopping to find her a new dress to wear. She was going to meet Fox’s parents and wanted to look perfect. We’d been to three regular women’s stores already, and now we were at a bridal shop. When I’d asked why, Angie told me they had informal dresses for sale, as well.

“It’s a big step. The parent thing,” she told me as she thumbed through any number of cocktail dresses that would have looked amazing on her. One of them had a blue-and-white pattern, which made me think of the dress I’d worn the night we’d surprised Angie and Fox into going on their first official date. As if where I’d be stopping for lunch wouldn’t be enough of a reminder.

It had been happening more and more. Instead of remembering why I was mad at Ryan, how he’d promised not to hurt me and then immediately did, I kept thinking about all the fun we’d had together. How much I still loved him.

This is Angie’s day,I reminded myself. I would not wallow, and I would be a good friend and do what I had been asked to do.

One of the clerks came over and offered us a tray with champagne on it. “I thought they did that only for brides.”

“When in Rome, right?” Angie accepted a flute, but I waved it off. The last thing my morose self needed was to be drunk.

“Meeting Fox’s parents is a big step. But they’ll love you. And Hector Jr. If they don’t, then they can just ... I don’t know. Suck it.”

Angie laughed as she pulled out a red sparkly dress. She knocked back the rest of her drink before setting the glass on a shelf. “I’m going to try on this one.”

A song came over the trendy boutique’s speakers. At first I thought I was hallucinating, but no, it was “One More Night.” The words twisted painfully against my heart, like they were enclosing it in barbed wire. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, remembering when Ryan and I sang it together. How I’d felt an intimate, soul-deep connection with him.

Before I could start crying, Angie came out and twirled around in her dress. “What do you think?”

“You look gorgeous,” I told her, my voice tight. “But ask yourself, what kind of dress is this? Is this The Dress? The one you’d wear to the Governor’s Ball? The one you’d want to get proposed to in? Go to the Academy Awards in?”

Not hearing my none-too-subtle slip of the tongue, Angie sized herself up in the mirror. “It’s probably not formal enough for that stuff, but I do love it.”

“Then you should wear it out of the store. Be fancy for lunch.”

“You know what? I will,” she said, smoothing down the material over her legs.

After she paid for the dress and got the tags removed, we went back to her car. Angie had become very good at carrying on one-sided conversations with me.

“You should probably let me drive,” I said, interrupting her. I’d finally figured out the best way to finish up this afternoon. “I know you didn’t have that much champagne, but better safe than sorry, right?”

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