Page 80 of Until Tomorrow Comes
I shouldn’t have come.
This thought has been on repeat from the moment the hotel door shut behind us.
I watch the numbers above the elevator doors as they count down, bringing us closer to my own personal Hell. It still baffles me that my mom managed to pull one over on me and convince me to come. Yet at the same time, it doesn’t.
She knew what she was doing by putting on the waterworks.
Regardless of the fact that I knew she was pulling all the stops to get me to be here, the sight of her crying broke my resolve. No one likes to see their mother cry.
I could’ve come up with some excuse as to why I couldn’t be here. I could’ve backed out at the last minute and not have to deal with this, but that’s not me. I told her I would be here and I try to be a man of my word.
Plus knowing her, she would just show up crying again.
But the feeling of Kat’s hand slipping into mine, interlocking our fingers, and squeezing gently as we reach the ground floor pulls me from my thoughts.
I hold my breath as the doors open, my chest tightening at the sign set up to be the first thing guests see when stepping off the elevators.
The white sign has ‘Turner Wedding’in big cursive letters, framed by the same floral that matches the invitation. An arrow points in the direction to go but instead of following, I continue to stare at the damn sign.
My pulse pounds in my ear and I’m vaguely aware of the fact that I stopped in front of the elevator doors, likely blocking the way for others. My teeth grind painfully together when I note the dent in the top right corner of the sign.
“Jackson?” Kat’s quiet voice yanks me back from the spiral of anger. Clearing my throat, I nod toward the sign.
“She used the same one from our wedding. Same invites, same directional signs.” I shake my head, pointing to the damage on it. “That dent was because of me. We were loading everything up the day after our wedding and I was frustrated that she was sitting on her phone in the passenger seat, not helping load anything, and the sign got caught on the backseat when I went to slide it in. Of course she noticed and tore me a new one for damaging it. Apparently asking why it mattered since we weren’t gonna need it again was the wrong thing to say.”
I rub my hand along my jaw.
“I’m surprised that we aren’t at the same venue at this point. If we get there and they have the same color scheme…”
Kat laughs, causing my head to whip toward her in time to see her slapping her hand over her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into her hand, but laughs again. “It’s not…” she clears her throat, swallowing her laugh and forcing a serious expression on her face. “It’s not funny.”
The corner of her lips fight to stay in a straight line as she holds back her laughter.
“Yet, you’re laughing?” I question back, some of the anger easing as I watch her struggle to stay serious.
“I’m sorry, but it’s just so ridiculous! I know without a doubt thatifI ever get married again, there are so many things I won’t have or do, hell maybe I won’t even have a big wedding again. Even if Zack wasn’t a trash human being and we’d ended on a good note, I would never invite an ex to my wedding. Let alone reuse decorations.”
“Well… yeah. But she’s marrying my brother.”
That’s the whole reason my mom wanted me here today, so she could pretend for one day that we’re a happy family.
Kat raises a brow.
“All the more reason for younotto be here. It feels almost petty to have pushed so hard for you to come. Like someone wants to rub it in your face,” shaking her head, she takes a deep breath before straightening her shoulders. “Granted, I don’t know any of these people and could just be jaded and expecting the worst from people.”
Her words make complete sense though, and now have me looking at this whole thing from a different perspective. Toddhadtried to call me multiple times, but only after the invitations had gone out. Not once in the past two years has he tried to reach out or make any attempts to mend things between us.
“You might actually be right,” I sigh, scrubbing a hand across my face and racking my brain on what to do. “It feels like everyone has manipulated and played me into coming.”
Kat chews on the corner of her mouth for a moment, staring at the damned sign in front of us before turning to face me.
“Well, we have three options.”
“And what are those? Cause I can’t even think of one.”
“Option one, we go to the wedding and reception. Stay silent and stay long enough for your mom to thank you and dip out the moment she’s distracted again. Option two, we turn around and leave. Screw what your mom thinks or wants, tell her I couldn’t stand being here and let her hate me or whatever.”
