Page 184 of Built to Fall
Meredith sets the shot glass down a little too carefully, like she’s trying to prove to everyone around her that she’sfine.She might look put together with her perfectly done makeup and slicked-back ponytail, but it’s hard to stomach the fact that it’s the rest of her that’s unraveling.
“Mer,” Braxton’s voice all butbreakswhen he gets close enough for her to hear him over the loud chatter and live instrumental music. “Baby.”
She flinches at the sound of his voice. It’s what makes me walk toward Eden instead of Meredith.
“You saw?” Eden whispers to me, fiddling with her hands.
“Yeah. Lina called me on our way here.”
“Braxton already knew, didn’t he?”
I nod, calling the waiter over so I can order a drink. I get the feeling we’re all going to need one tonight.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
LINA
Remember that rumor mill I talked about?
Yeah, well, it’s come back around full circle.
Had I noticed how Meredith was scarily skinny?Of course I had.
But it’s become abundantly clear throughout the past semester and a half that I really have no idea what happened in the apartment during the year I was gone.
On one hand, I knew it wasn’t my place to come back, guns blazing, throwing those kinds of strong accusations around when I myself wasn’t even ready to reveal the skeletons in my closet.
Yet, on the other hand, I’veknownin my gut that something was wrong. For months. And I said nothing.
That’s the guilt that’s gnawing at me. And my brain is mistaking it for anger.
Grant texted me saying he and Braxton found Meredith at the bar. I’m trying to ignore the way that makes my stomach sink.
Because of course I want to find her. I want to see her with my own eyes and make sure she’s okay.
I’m standing backstage with Savannah because tonight is her night. She’s been working for this for so long. Her name is on every outfit. Her brand is plastered front and center all over this place.
I don’t have the option to split myself down the middle.
“You can go find your seat,” Savannah tells me. “The show starts in five minutes.”
Eyeing her, I try to sense whether she’s just saying that or if she really means it. “Are you sure? I can stay.”
She gives me a reassuring nod, slipping in a new pair of earrings.
In the past thirty minutes, she’s already changed her outfit three times before I offered her the black satin gown I was wearing.
At first, Savannah refused to take it, but I saw the way her eyes lingered on me a little too long. Instead of trying to convince her, I simply slipped into the dressing room alongside her and started getting undressed.
“You designed this dress. It’s yours, anyway,” I told her. “Find me something to change into. I’m just sitting in the crowd, so what I’m wearing really doesn’t matter.”
Now, I’m wearing her backup: a soft blush slip dress with lace detailing along the hem and neckline. It’s beautiful, obviously, because everything Savannah touches is, but it doesn’t feel like me.
Still, I’d wear a trash bag if it meant she felt good walking out there.
The only issue is the cleavage situation currently happening. “Are my boobs going to fall out?” I ask her, pulling up the neckline again.
Savannah and I are technically the same size when it comes to regular clothes, but this dress was perfectly designed for herbody. My slightly broader rib cage makes it so that what would hug her curves is barely containing mine.
