Old acquaintances returns. Or, in this case, an old beau.
People called my name, inquiring about my weird escapade to the garden. I ignored them, striding with purpose and stiffness in my movements. Footsteps echoed behind me and later, the slam of heavy double doors. Knowing it's either Zach or Justine, I quickened my pace. A hand gripped my elbow and tugged me to a stop. I halted but didn't turn around. Wetness glide down my cheeks and I felt my eyes, using my fingertips. I was crying. Quickly, I brushed the back of my hand across my eyes, trying to get rid of the tears but I was pretty certain my eyes were puffy and swollen. Telltale signs.
"Hey." Macey's voice floated behind me and all the tension I held in escaped, leaving me drained and tired. "You okay?"
Her question was questioning. It was just something you've been drilled in to ask whenever someone is sad or mad. Though, in my case, it was pretty obvious but Macey obviously felt like it was needed. So, for the first time in five years, I turned to one of my best friends for relationship trouble – something that troubled me as much as it did everyone else. "No." I answered truthfully, tearfully.
Macey craned her neck, glancing at something that I couldn't see – or, more specifically, someone. "Number One Asshole's coming by." She muttered darkly.
I sniffed, willing my tears to stop flowing and stared vacantly ahead. Justine and Zach passed by; she was grinning at me wickedly and he was avoiding my gaze, avoiding everyone's gaze, even his precious fiancee. They ascended the grand staircase then part ways at the top. Justine, knowing fully well that I was watching, kissed him fully on the lips, smirking at me afterward. Zach just stared down at the rest of us, but his gaze didn't zero in on anyone in particular. It just hovered above us. Before he turned away, his eyes met mine and the intensity, the hollowness, the pain and regret in them made me staggered.
Do not feel sorry for him, my inner conscious whispered to me. He'll hurt you again.
But I can't help but feel sorry for him. It was like I was forbidden to feel anything remotely close sympathy for him. Anyone else, the emotion would come naturally, but with Zach, it wasn't a force to be reckon with.
"Don't." Macey said warningly, as if she felt what I just felt. "Cam, he'll do it again."
"I know that." I snapped then instantly felt contrite as a look of hurt flitted across her pretty face. I exhaled slowly, feeling the effects of the confrontation weighing down on me. "I'm sorry. It's been a long day."
"Really long." Macey corrected with a small smile.
"Right." I agreed, smiling back.
"C'mon, it's getting pretty late. We should head up."
I realized she was right. No one was around except for the two of us. Outside, it had darkened and the gaslights were blazing, casting a glow against the brick structure. I could see some of the workers posted at every entrance and exits. The foyer was so quiet that you can hear a pin drop. The silence, to me, was too loud.
"Yeah, okay." I said sullenly, following her up the steps.
"Oh, um, is this a bad time?" She suddenly asked, wringing her hands nervously as she jogged up the staircase.
I narrowed my eyes and inquired, "For what?"
"Well, Justine told us that you two were going dress shopping. Tomorrow." She said quietly.
"She's out of her damn mind." I muttered darkly, veering right and stomping into our room. It might seemed childish. Stomping is reserved for three to five years old not mature twenty one year old.
"Well, you technically have to." Bex announced, joining our conversation.
"The hell I do. Maid of Honor be damned." I tugged my shirt up and over my head, throwing it haphazardly on the bed. Walking in my bra, I found a tank top and shrug it on.
"You'll be jeopardizing the mission," Liz said gently. "It's not just about you. I know you're hurt but if you back out of this, this will be blown and both Blackthorne and Gallagher."
I sighed, hanging my head, propping my elbows on my knees. "It's not like I don't know that." I replied. "But it's hard. I hate her. So much. I know I need to do this. But, why me? Why does she need to single me out and blackmail me with the fact that my father might be alive!"
"What?" The girls hollered.
Oops, I realized I hadn't told them that. "Oh, yeah. She told me that if I help her, she'll tell me where my father, who's alive, is located."
"Do you believe her?" Macey asked questioningly. "I mean, I know my half-sister. And one thing is that she loves to lie." She shook her head in disgust.
"No, I don't." I replied quickly. Sometimes, I considered her offer, wondering if it was true. I was conflicted, wondering what I should believe. Should I tell my mom? No, I decided, I shouldn't. Rachel Morgan wouldn't believe me. Besides, my dad was a taboo subject.
"Good. It's not true." Bex concurred, laying her head against her pillow.
I shrugged, not saying anything. I sat on my bed, flipping the blanket over and snuggled underneath. My head slumped down on the pillow and soon, my eyelids became too heavy to open and sleep lifted me under.
….
"It looks good." I said dully, flicking at a speck of dirt under my fingernail.
A sigh emitted from Justine's lips as she surveyed herself in the mirrors that covered the entire wall of the bridal shop. She smoothed her hands over the taffeta and fingered the train. "You've been saying that for the last five. Honestly, I don't think you're really into this." Justine said conversationally.
"Really." I deadpanned. "It isn't obvious?"
"Next." Justine said to the assistant standing next to the door. The woman nodded, glanced down at her clipboard and exited the room. Justine, careful of the long skirt, scooped it up and plopped down next to me. "What's wrong, Cammie?" She asked, pulling on a strand of my hair.
I swatted her hand away, a scowl alighting my face. "Don't touch me."
"Well then." She huffed.
The woman returned, thankfully, with the next gown in her hand. It was a Vera Wang. Seashell neckline. The skirt puffed out, creating a full circle.
Justine jumped up, clapping her hands. "That's the one!" She squealed.
I rolled my eyes. I don't know why she's going through so much trouble. She isn't even going to be walking down the aisle. Her ulterior motive was to steal the Crest to unlock the Gallagher Alumni. It was all a big waste of time if you ask me.
"What do you think?" She asked me, twirling around. My vision swarmed with the images of silk, lace, and other perverted things that will be present at their honeymoon. It was mortifying that I even cared.
"It looks good." I answered flatly.
Another sigh. "I'll take this one." She said to the assistant, who smiled politely. Then, Justine proceeded to take the dress off.
I got up, heading for the door. "I'm out."
"Zach said you had to drive me back." She said patronizingly.
"I'll wait outside, then!" I shrieked, suddenly losing control. I pushed the door open and it slammed behind me. I grumbled under my breath and stalked to the end of the curb, looking around the busy outlet. The bridal store was across from a Starbucks and I happily made my way over. Halfway across, a voice called out to me.
"Cammie?"
I stopped, ready with a witty remark. When I turned around, the comment died on my tongue and my eyes bulged from their sockets. His name rolled off my tongue, stuttering uncontrollably. "J-Josh?"
My ex-boyfriend from five years ago stared back at me, smiling widely. "Hey!"
"Oh...shit." I grumbled under my breath, plastering a smile on my face. "Hi!" I chirped, my face flushing.