Page 63 of The First Kind of Love
SHILOH
Iknow I should be happy given the poorly decorated party hat on my head and the fountain of endless drinks, but grief lassoes my heart—a constant reminder of the relationship that I just jeopardized. It’s not bad enough that I got into a fight with the one person who matters to me most, but to get into a fight hours before my friend’s bachelorette party?
I have to be the most selfish person on this entire planet.
I shouldn’t be thinking about my own problems right now. I should be here for Aeris, celebrating her future instead of dwelling on mine—or lack thereof. This is her last night of freedom. Tomorrow, she’ll be a married woman, starting the next chapter in her life.
Three weeks.My three weeks are up. After the wedding, I’ll get my wish and go back to my lackluster life without Fulton—without him reassuring me with words of affection or surprising me with sweet acts of service.
My eyes roam over the girls screaming their lungs out to a Britney Spears song, and judging by the way Aeris is swaying on her feet, I’m betting she’s more alcohol than blood right now.
I wish Fulton was here. I wish I could just live in the moment instead of always worrying about what’s to come. I wish I could stow away this self-directed anger and have everything go back to the way it was.
Fulton’s and my relationship has been nothing but a revolving door of will they or won’t they. One minute, I’m floating on cloud nine, and the next, I can barely keep my head above water as some leviathan latches a tentacle around my ankle and pulls me down, down, down into the depths of doubt and misguided self-preservation.
Did I overreact? I know Fulton was just trying to help, but I was so thrown off when he offered to pay offeverything. That’s not pocket money, alright? At least, not for me. We’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars. Who in their right mind would give someone that much money after onlytrulyknowing them for three weeks? No matter how insignificant the sum might be for him, I vowed years ago to never take money from someone I care about. And I care about Fulton—so much it aches.
Ugh, I’m such a fucking mess. Who am I going to attack next, unprovoked, because I made the idiotic decision to keep all my qualms compartmentalized on a three-week vacation with some of the most successful people in the entire world? It’s not their fault that I hate my life.
I do, don’t I?
Then he made that comment about abandonment, and that was really the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m prioritizing work over him. Oh my God. I’m doing the exact same thing his dad did. And I’m no better than that girl who dangled a relationship in front of him just so she could pull it away at the last minute. The most important person in my life shouldn’t have to play second fiddle to my stupid job.
I sip rather aggressively on my dirty martini, hoping that I can either numb the pain or black out before the memoriescome barreling back. Aeris—even though she isn’t the host of the party—comes flouncing over to me with no knowledge of the untamed anger vibrating through my five-foot body, and she takes the liberty to sit down next to me, clinging to her drink like it’s Liquid I.V. instead of alcohol.
“Why the long face, Shiloh?” she asks in a motherly tone, her words surprisingly understandable for someone who I doubt can walk in a straight line.
I take a balled fist and try to scrub the frown from my mouth, as if it’ll suddenly disappear with a little elbow grease. “Sorry. I, uh, I’m just a little tired tonight,” I flub, the lie tasting like cigarette ash on my palate.
“Aw, love. You should get some rest. Nobody’s going to hold it against you if you leave early. I’m just happy you were able to show up for a while.”
Goddammit, Aeris. Why do you have to be so nice?
I shake my head, placing my glass down on the table that’s overrun with torn streamers, confetti, glow-in-the-dark penis stickers, and a disturbingly graphic, half-eaten dick cake with sprinkles for ball hairs and buttercream frosting for cum. There’s a very phallic theme going on here.
“It’s not that kind of tired. It’s like”—I press down on my chest, right where my heart is, right where it knocks against my ribs like death’s skeletal hand on my front door —“a soul kind of tired.”
Aeris nods in understanding, readjusting the pinkBride-to-Besash over her body. “Do you want to talk about it?” There’s a sweet tone to her voice, as soft as velvet as it wraps around me in an incorporeal embrace.
“It’s not important. This isyourbig night. Don’t worry about me.”
It’s not my goal to put a damper on the evening—it’s just hard to be in high spirits when I’m already mourning thisincredible vacation that Fulton so graciously gifted me. It’s like I can’t enjoy it anymore because it’s so close to ending.
Thank you, pessimism.
Aeris tacks on a frown, and she rests a hand on my leg, attentively searching my face for any crack in my carefully cultivated façade. “Itisimportant. Don’t invalidate your feelings for me. Plus, how could I truly have a good time tonight if I knew my friend was going through something? This isournight. I want to celebrate it with all the important people in my life, and you’re one of them, Shiloh.”
Before I know it, a veil of tears has misted over my eyes, but I’m quick to blink them away. I’ve never met someone with as big of a heart as Aeris. We were strangers three weeks ago, and now I’m important enough to be in her bridal party.
I wonder if that would change if she knew how I treated Fulton.
I glance up at the conga line that the rest of the girls have formed, completely oblivious to the internal mayhem taking me for one hell of a death-defying ride. They’re all smiles and raucous laughter, drunk off good company and capitalizing on the overflowing buffet of carbs. For them, this vacation isn’t the end of the road.
A cold sweat tiptoes down my spine, and the Fulton-specific butterflies in my belly flap in a frenzy similar to the way animals flee when they sense danger. “Fulton and I got into an argument,” I whisper beneath my breath, picking at a hangnail on my thumb.
Instead of the sympathetic “Mm-hm, tell me more” I was expecting, Aeris turns into the fucking Terminator, her big, endearing eyes replaced with ones that verge on destructive vengeance. She tries her best to remain impartial, but the grit of her teeth says otherwise.
“What. Did. He. Do.”
