Every Vow You Break(11)

“Excuse me?” Abigail had said.

“It’s a thing: one last fling before the ring.”

“What do you mean, it’s a thing?”

“I don’t know, Abigail, don’t get mad at me. I was just kidding.”

Don’t do it, you’ll regret it.

And those words kept running through her head as she stepped into the stranger’s arms again and kissed him, telling herself that was all that was going to happen. That she was allowed a kiss, one drunken kiss, before getting married.

But the kiss was just too good, and she told herself that maybe this was a little pocket of time. A pocket of time without names and without consequences. The world spun, and he was a good kisser, and when his hand touched her neck, an involuntary shudder went through her body.

Later, a few hours later, another phrase ran through Abigail’s mind as she lay, awake and sober, in the king-sized bed of his room. Reader, she thought, I slept with him.





CHAPTER 6

I want to hear all about the meal,” Bruce said, after they’d hugged and kissed, and as she slid into the seat across from him at a midtown Mexican restaurant.

“God, that meal,” she said. “It was amazing.”

“Tell me about it.”

Abigail had been nervous about seeing Bruce for the first time since the trip to California, and now she was so relieved that they were actually talking, and that he hadn’t instantly been able to see the infidelity written all over her face, that the details of the meal went entirely out of her head.

“Let me think for a moment,” she said, and then was saved by the waitress appearing to take their drink orders.

When he asked her again, the memory of that meal came back to her, and she described it course by course. He seemed so pleased hearing the details that Abigail relaxed some more, even though her guilt ratcheted up a little bit. It was going to be all right, she thought. She’d gotten away with it.

A week earlier, after skulking from Scottie’s room (she still thought of him by the name she’d made up), she’d tried to fall asleep in her own hotel bed, but only managed about two hours of fitful, edgy half sleep. Every time she thought she was going to trip over the edge into unconsciousness, images of what had just occurred erupted in her mind. Before she knew it, morning had arrived, and she sent a text to all the bachelorettes that she was sleeping in and skipping the brunch buffet, then she sent a separate text to Zoe, asking her to swing by her room when she got a chance. Five minutes later, Zoe, looking as though she’d gotten ten hours of deep sleep, arrived with a plate of croissants.

When the door was shut behind her, Abigail told her everything that had happened.

“Jesus,” Zoe said. “That’s not like you.”

“I know. I don’t know what happened. I was drunk, but I wasn’t that drunk. I think … maybe I’m telling myself something. Maybe I don’t want to marry Bruce.”

“This is what I think,” Zoe said. “Don’t make any rash decisions now. Wait a few days. See what it feels like to see Bruce again.

See if you keep thinking about this guy—”

“It wasn’t about him. It was romantic, but he’s married, and he’s not even my type—”

“And you don’t know his name.”

“Oh God,” Abigail said, and laughed, the act of moving her facial muscles painful. “I don’t even know his name.”

“Just don’t beat yourself up. Wait a few days and see how you feel. Maybe it did mean something, and then you can talk to Bruce.”

“It would destroy him.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. If you need to break it off, he doesn’t have to know about what happened here.”

“Okay,” Abigail said, and took a deep breath. Zoe, despite the complications of her own life, always gave great advice. Abigail held a croissant in her hand but hadn’t taken a bite. She took a small one now, flakes falling down onto her lap.

“One question,” Zoe said. “Condom?”

“Yes, we used a condom.”

“Good. He had it with him?”

“Well, it wasn’t mine. So, yes. You think it’s creepy that a married guy on a trip brings a condom, right?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“God, it is creepy, isn’t it? Did I get totally played?”

“Shh, relax. Did you have fun?”

“It was actually pretty nice.”

Better than pretty nice, Abigail told herself, but didn’t say it out loud.

“Maybe that’s all this is. You had a fling before getting married, and no one ever needs to know about it besides me. These things happen. Better now than in a year.”

“Okay. Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“Fuck you. Who would I tell?”

“I know. I just had to say it out loud.”

“I’m not telling anyone. Don’t beat yourself up about it. It happened.”

Abigail took her advice and tried not to make any decisions until she saw her fiancé. And now they were eating a normal lunch, and Bruce was so pleased to see her. She was still guilty, but maybe she’d been making too much of a big deal about it. She’d be faithful in their marriage, and this was one last moment of singlehood. For all she knew, he’d done the same thing on his bachelor trip.