Hold My Breath(52)

“You look like Annie,” I say, smiling on the side of my mouth that’s mushed into my pillow.

Holly doesn’t turn around, but she gives me the finger with her free hand. She hates Annie jokes. She’s gotten them most of her life. She’s exactly how I picture Annie growing up, though—if she became a nurse, drank like a sailor, and brought home strange men from the bar.

“You ready to be coherent about whatever the hell happened last night? I know you weren’t drunk. And I know you were upset. I didn’t have that much wine,” she says.

I roll so my face is buried into the pillow, and I pull the blanket around my head, blocking all of the light. I don’t know why telling Evan’s secret makes me feel ashamed, but it does—like I’m admitting I wasn’t good enough for him to remain faithful.

“Evan…had a baby,” I say, my voice muffled by the mattress and linens.

“What the shit?” Clearly, not so muffled it couldn’t be heard.

I roll to my back and kick the blanket down my legs, watching as my friend’s eyes move down my body, to the dress I’m still wearing from the night before.

“Girl, it’s like, even worse than the walk of shame. You didn’t even get to orgasm,” she says, sitting on the end of the mattress and tugging the end of my dress down my knees. “At least let me make you look modest.”

I laugh, barely, and pull myself up to sit, pressing my palms into my swollen eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” she shrugs.

The easy answer here is no. I don’t ever want to talk about it. Evan’s dead, and my last four, five…hell eight years may have been a total lie. I want to pretend none of it happened, but then pretending that would erase parts of Will, too. The last several days.

The last eight years I’ve been noticing him and trying to pretend I wasn’t.

“There’s not much to talk about, really. I saw a text from the girl to Will, and I sorta jumped to one conclusion, and when he corrected me, I’m not sure what conclusion was worse—the one I had wrong, or the truth,” I say.

“I’m only half following you here,” she says, pulling her purse into her lap and taking out a packet of mints. She hands them to me, and I take four. Her eyebrow lifts.

“I threw up. My mouth tastes horrible,” I say.

My friend hands me two more, then puts her mints away.

I manage to stumble my way into the bathroom and splash water on my face, leaving my dress in a pile on the floor, and putting on a clean pair of shorts and a T-shirt, twisting my hair into a bun. This is as put-together as I think today is going to get. When I step back into my room, my friend has her keys in her hand, and I frown immediately.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’d stay, but I have so much to get done before tomorrow. The hospital has been so busy, and I have two tests this week,” she says.

I sigh heavily then move toward her open arms, letting her hug me.

“Look, I’m not sure I understand everything, but I do understand one thing that I don’t think you should lose sight of,” she says.

“What’s that?” I ask, my face muffled against her shoulder.

She pulls back from me, but keeps her hands on my arms, squaring me to look her in the eyes.

“You and Will have been making each other happy. That guy has made you light up in a way I have never seen, and if he’s been keeping a secret from you about his brother, maybe it’s because he didn’t want you to feel the pain it may cause,” she says.

I breathe in deep, and her eyes stay open on mine, her face serious.

“Maddy, Will’s not the one who cheated on you,” she says, stepping into me and kissing my head.

My mouth twists, and I nod slowly. I know she’s right, but the fact that Will didn’t let me know any of this—that maybe he knew all along—still feels ugly. If the roles were reversed, and a girl he had been with for years was having a relationship with someone else on the side, I think I’d have to let him know. Especially if that girl was my sister.

I walk Holly to the front door and see her off. The rest of the house is quiet. The mess from the party is still scattered around the kitchen and the borrowed tabletops placed around the main room, so I go to work in the kitchen, opening a bag and dropping in napkins and beer bottles, doing my best to set them inside gently, avoiding the clanking sounds.

I’m so quiet while I work that the small tapping on the front door makes me jump. My hand clutches my chest, and my mind races to the obvious conclusion—it’s Will. I move to the door silently, still not sure if I’m going to open it and dive deeper into the gaping wound opened only a few hours ago, when the quiet knock comes again.

With a sigh, I set the bag down in the foyer and slip on my flip-flops, not wanting to talk about any of this inside. It takes my mind a second to catch up to the fact that it isn’t Will at my door, but instead, his uncle.

“Duncan, uh…hey; I’m sorry I kept you,” I say.

His head falls to one side, and his eyes crinkle behind his glasses with his gentle smile.

“I wasn’t sure if anyone was awake, even though it’s nine, and why waste away a day like this, huh?” he says, his arms stretched out to his sides, a small velvet box in one palm.

I step out on the front walkway to admire the blue sky. It’s bright out, a slight breeze tickling the crisp summer leaves of cottonwood trees that line our street. It sounds like the ocean. I turn back to look at him and smile.