Page 147 of No Rings Attached
“I might have missed it,” Grace gave Celia a fake-sweet smile, “but what flowers did you say you picked?”
She was right. Celia hadn’t said. Even though Drew and I had done it for her she’d sent me the list of what to choose. She should’ve remembered what they were.
This whole not over-the-top gushing did seem off. Yay to Grace for seeing that.
“It was such a whirlwind that day when I decided, so it’s hard to remember them all, but Ellie was fantastic and helped to pick them out.”
A coldness settled in my chest. If she’d loved the flowers chosen, why didn’t she remember? I could recite them from memory; they were all my favorite—Japanese anemones, white roses, pale pink peonies.
“Celia, just show them.” Mom laid a hand on my sister’s arm. “She has a whole binder full of ideas,” she announced to the table.
An odd expression crossed Celia’s face, but it vanished too quickly for me to interpret it.
Mom reached into the oversized bag draped over the back of her chair. I wondered why she even had it with her—they were staying at the B&B and could have easily run upstairs for anything they needed.
She hefted out an old, worn album.
My heart lodged in my throat.
No.
She didn’t.
Shecouldn’thave.
What in the actual hell?
The familiar purple cover came into view—plastered with photos of my teen celebrity crushes. Stickers spelled out ‘Dream Wedding Ideas’ at the top, but I didn’t need to be reading the letters to know what it said or what was inside.
I knew this binder intimately.
Every page.
Every clipping.
Every sketch and note written in my teenage handwriting.
Hours and hours of dreams carefully curated over the years.
A chill ran through me the longer I stared at the cover that once meant everything to my younger self.
That’s mine. That’s MINE!
“That’s … that’s … ” Words escaped me. My vision tunneled until all I could see was that purple cover.
My sister gave me a weak smile. “Guess what I found at Kyle’s? It was at the back of his closet, and when I saw it, I knew it was a sign.”
A sign?!
The room tilted slightly. When I’d packed up my belongings from Kyle’s apartment, I must have left it behind. I’d been so frantic to get out, so heartbroken and humiliated?—
And she’s been planning her wedding with MY dreams?
“A sign to use my ideas?” I finally gasped out. My voice sounded strange to my own ears, high and thready.
“It’s not likeyou’reusing them,” Celia snapped.
I couldn’t tell if she was completely oblivious to how this made me feel or if she simply didn’t care. Based on our history, I was leaning toward the latter.
