Page 134 of Meant to Be

CHAPTER 32

Cate

After I agreed to go to Peter and Genevieve’s wedding with Joe, I tried to put my emotions on hold, telling myself I just needed to get through the week without overthinking things. It was impossible not to be sad, knowing what would be coming afterward, but one thing at a time.

For the next three days, I pretended that I was only headed to a modeling shoot—and prepped accordingly, just like the old days. I got my eyebrows waxed, my highlights touched up, and my nails done. Then, on the evening before we left, I went to Bergdorf and bought a black off-the-shoulder, silk crepe dress from Rive Gauche, the ready-to-wear line from Yves Saint Laurent.

Curtis, who insisted on going shopping with me and was still in denial about the breakup, pushed back on the idea of my wearing black. He said that black was a downer for a spring wedding by the water, and the dress was way too “drapey” for my body.

“It looks like a potato sack,” he said.

I told him that was the point. The dress hit the right understated note, and the less people noticed me, the better.

“Because you don’t want to upstage the bride?” Curtis eagerly asked.

I rolled my eyes but smiled, thinking that everyone should have a cheerleader as big as Curtis. “No, honey. Because I’m on the way out the door. Better to blend into the woodwork,” I said, thinking that I also needed to avoid the wedding photographer, lest I end up in too many of Genevieve’s photos.

Curtis stuffed his fingers into his ears, closed his eyes, and shouted, “I can’t hear you! I can’t hear you!”

I waited until he was finished, then said, “You’re ridiculous.”

“No,you’reridiculous. And I refuse to believe I won’t be doing your wedding makeup later this year.”

“Wait a second. Is this about my relationship ending—or you not getting to do my wedding makeup?” I smiled, determined to keep the mood light—or at least not heavy.

“Both,” he said. “Oh! That reminds me—I picked up a new MAC lipstick for you. It’s called Russian Roulette. You’ll love it.”

“Well, the name feels somehow appropriate, but I’m not wearing red lipstick this weekend.”

“Why not?”

“I told you. I’m going for understated. Neutral.”

“Redisa neutral.”

“Still. It’s too bold.”

“C’mon, Cate. If you’re going to insist on black, can you please just do a red lip?”

“I’m not sure why you care so much. But sure. Whatever,” I said, throwing him a bone.

“Personally, Idon’tcare,” Curtis said with a smile. “But Joe loves your red lipstick.”

—

The plan wasto meet at Joe’s place at two, then ride out to the Essex County Airport together. But around noon, he called and told me that his meeting was running late, and that it might makemore sense to link up at the airport. I told him that was no problem, then asked what time I should arrive.

“Let’s say four,” he said.

“Okay,” I said, knowing that for Joe, that meant closer to five. “As long as we’re not flying in the dark,” I added, starting to get a little anxious about the flight. Like a lot of people, I had a thing about small planes, and it didn’t help that I knew how much his mother and Berry feared his flying.

“Daylight savings, baby! Sunset’s not till seven-something,” he said. “We’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you at four.”

—

As predicted, Joejogged into the terminal a few minutes past five.

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