Page 12 of For the Record
“He thought it was the tattoo place next door. Somehow, I convinced him to get a Billy Joel vinyl, though.” Rachel winked my way and instead of adding to the conversation, I just nodded along.
“Do you two know each other?” Rachel asked Layla. I looked back and forth between them. Layla and I weren’t close by any means, but she was a nice girl, and eventually, she was going to have my brother’s last name, so although we weren’t what I would call friends, our circles overlapped.
Layla answered for me, thankfully. “Adam is Luke’s brother.” She looked over at me. “Rachel’s my roommate.”
Rachel and I caught eyes at the same time. We would be seeing each other around, then. I didn’t know whether I loved or hated that.
Currently playing: You've Got A Friend by James Taylor
***
My fingers gripped the hotel doorknob as I slowly let the door shut behind me. I looked back and forth down the wallpapered hallway before taking a step out and checking one more time. The Pink Panther theme song would have been perfect at that moment if I had been smart enough to grab my headphones from my room the night before.
Although I supposed I had been a bit distracted, and my head wasn’t in the mindset for next-day activities. Thankfully Adam had thought a few steps ahead of me, and apparently, before he had taken a shower this morning, he’d slipped into my room and grabbed a pair of denim shorts and my ratty ELO T-shirt. It was the comfiest article of clothing I owned, so the holes could be forgiven.
Things would have been incredibly more difficult to explain if I were wearing a white dress and heels to a family and friend brunch with my husband’s family.
My stomach sank at the thought. Oh gosh, I had in-laws now. Though if I were to do a whole fantasy football–style draft for a mother-in-law, Mama B would be my first pick. None of that mattered, though. She was never going to find out, and this would all be over within a week. We would sign those annulment papers, celebrate without alcohol, and laugh about it later on down the road.
Despite my reassurance, I was still dreading this whole brunch. Layla and Calla could both read me like a book by now. I was awful at hiding my feelings in the first place—these eyebrows can’t lie—but it was even harder between the two of my three closest friends. Thank the good lord Marigold was off on her honeymoon and not joining us, or she would call it out instantly. She had this freaky mom instinct that allowed her to see into your brain. I hoped I got that one day too. It really psyched people out.
I hummed along to the soundtrack in my head as I made my way to the elevator. It would be fine. I would be fine. This was a little speed bump in life. No one knew, and Adam was an excellent secret keeper—mostly because he never talked. And I would go in fake-it-till-I-make-it style. It would all be fi—
A door slammed behind me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Uh-oh. I knew that hiss and the demanding voice behind it.
Breathe in, Rachel. She has no idea.
I turned on my heel, forcing a smile. “Calla! My dear friend. I am…walking down the hall.” I looked at her shoulder, focusing my attention on the strap of her tank top to avoid her gaze.
“Yeah, like you work for the FBI,” she whisper-yelled and looked behind her. “Come on,” she hissed. Then she pulled me into the elevator as she feverishly pressed the close door button.
The moment the doors shut, I found myself being pulled by the hand. My left hand. Calla held my new ring to her face, and her eyes widened in shock. “Why do you still have that ring on?”
I gasped, pulling my hand back lightning fast and hiding it under my crossed arms. “What ring?”
She pointed to it. “The gigantic boulder sitting on your left ring finger after you and my idiot brother got married last night.”
Wincing, I uncrossed my arms and lifted the ring to my own eyes. It really was beautiful; simple but elegant. A princess-cut diamond with a thin gold band holding it up. Timeless, classic, and heavy. It sucked that I’d have to eventually give it up.
My shoulders slumped. “You knew?”
Calla rolled her eyes. “Of course I knew. You texted the group chat with all the girls saying wifey for lifey. Then you sent a picture of you flashing us your ring finger. And then another picture of your hand grabbing Adam’s bicep.”
Mouth falling open, I considered it for a moment and then shrugged. Because, well, yeah, that sounded about right.
She sighed. “So what are you two going to do about it?”
Adam was casual about this, so I could be too. We were adults. Grown people who could hire lawyers and handle things professionally. Or at least he was. I could just follow him.
“Get an annulment when we get back to Philly. No biggie. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas and whatnot, right?”
She nodded along, and her face seemed to settle at that. “How did this even happen? You guys don’t ever talk.”
I wasn’t sure why Adam and I had kept our friendship under wraps so much. It was our little secret. The late-night texts and hangouts when no one else was around. I liked that he allowed me to be myself unapologetically. He liked that I never forced him to talk more than he wanted. Freedom, that’s what it felt like. We enjoyed keeping it to ourselves, though. It would have felt…wrong, I guess, to tell others. Like if everyone else knew we were this close, it would ruin the rhythm we’d built.
Clearing my throat, I answered. “Too much alcohol, and his tattoos under those rolled-up sleeves.”