Page 63 of The Wedding Fake
Sammie grunted, leading the way through her tiny rental into the living room, then sitting down on the couch. “You should tell me everything, from the beginning, but I know you won’t.”
She was right, although more because I couldn’t bear to relive it right now than because I didn’t want to share with Sammie. “In a nutshell, I really like Claire, but she’s been burned in the past, and she can’t see me—or any man, I think—as anything other than temporary. She can’t trust me.”
Sammie rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh my God, give me her number and I’ll tell her you’re boring as hell and a hopeless romantic to boot.”
My eyebrow twitched irritably. “I’m not…either of those things,” I muttered, though my hesitation may’ve given away the fact that I was second-guessing myself. Maybe she was right and I was both.
“It’s not a crime to admit you like the idea of cuddling on the couch watching Netflix until death do you part.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the words that popped out were, “Have you seen The Tinder Swindler?”
“Everyone’s seen The Tinder Swindler. Nobody’s even talking about The Tinder Swindler anymore. Except you, probably because you watched it with this woman. Am I right?”
I didn’t answer her, but years of interactions had taught Sammie silence was as good as admission.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked.
“I was hoping to sleep and rent a car to go home tomorrow,” I replied.
Sammie looked at me thoughtfully. “I’ll do you one better. I have to drive into the city on Monday for work. If you don’t mind hanging in town for an extra day, you can drive with me.” She grinned. “We’ll bond and you’ll save a hundred bucks.”
Sleep didn’t come easy, but I still didn’t feel like getting up the next morning. Had Claire stayed in the B&B alone? Was she staring at a strange ceiling now, missing me the way I missed her?
I grunted, looking at my watch. Probably not. She had to be up for the morning-after brunch. It was the last event before she drove home this afternoon. I imagined she’d be embarrassed to attend without me, but I couldn’t worry about that right now.
“Jesus. Are you just staring at the ceiling? You’re a mess.” I looked up to see Sammie standing over me, grimacing.
“I was just getting up,” I mumbled, sitting up and rubbing both hands over my face.
“I’m going out to brunch,” she said, sitting next to me and patting my knee. “I’d invite you, but I don’t want you to come.”
I snorted out a laugh, though Sammie’s bluntness rarely surprised me. “Thanks, Sam. You really know how to make a guy feel better.”
“It’s my weekly girls’ brunch,” she said defensively. “It’s in the name. If we start bringing men it’ll become some co-ed bullshit. I didn’t sign up for that. Anyway,” she continued, “half my friends have a crush on you, and that’s gross.” She put a single hand up as if she were stopping all possible discussion of her friends’ interest in me, huffing irritably.
“Maybe I could use a rebound,” I joked. I’d known most of her friends since childhood, and had no interest in them, but Sammie was fun to mess with.
She stood, hanging her hands on her hips. “Don’t be repugnant. Why don’t you go visit Mom and Dad or something?”
I’d already thought of how I wanted to spend my day, and it didn’t involve my parents or a gaggle of girls getting drunk on Sunday morning mimosas. “I’m going to go see Amy.”
Sammie’s hands dropped from her hips, her eyes going wide. “Why? What are you going to say to her?”
“Mom says she’s engaged.”
Sammie’s frown deepened. “She is, Hud, and she’s doing better. It’s not fair of you to screw that up.”
I inhaled deeply, knowing Sammie’s heart was in the right place. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I was going to give her my blessing.”
Sammie’s brow winged up. “She doesn’t need your blessing.”
“Fuck, Samantha, I know that,” I snapped. “Mom said she’d appreciate it. I was trying to do something good for a change. Instead of fucking everything up.”
“You don’t fuck everything up, Hudson,” she said quietly.
I’d fucked up things with Claire, and with my family, and saving Lawrence. It was a nice thing to say, but we both knew it wasn’t true, and I rested my arms on my knees, sighing.
Sammie hiked up her long dress and knelt down in front of me, the way one might squat to talk to a toddler. “Hud,” she said gently, and I looked up to meet her gaze. “Except Amy, no one on Earth was closer to Lawrence than you, I know that, but it tore the whole family apart, losing him, you know?”