I expect them to pepper me with questions, too many questions, but they don’t. There is a moment of silence, a long one, and I can feel their questions on the tips of their tongues, but they don’t say anything, probably out of fear of upsetting me.
They’re my friends, and they’ve trusted me over the years with all their stuff, with their emotions and support. I need to do the same. Trust them with my innermost thoughts and allow them to support me.
They love me, and I know they are just worried.
“Okay,” Dakota begins. “What is going on with you and Viking?” she demands.
“Nothing…” I lie, my voice trailing off.
I’m not sure I am ready to say the words. Because when I tell them, they’ll try to talk me out of marrying Paul. And I am not going to do that. My decision has been made, even as hard as it was to make. As hard as it will be to go through with it all. It’s what I’m going to do.
Posey snorts, and all our eyes fly across to meet hers. I watch as she lifts the glass of water to her lips, taking a drink before she sets it down. She’s got something to say, and we all wait for her to continue.
“You’re a liar. I’m going to call you out on it because I love you. But we can all see it. Plus, he’s been at your place for weeks, and you’ve been in love with him for years, so we can all put two and two together.”
Three pairs of eyes stare at me, waiting for me to tell them everything, to spill all of my secrets. I feel like I could continue to deny it, to lie, but I’m pretty sure they would call me on it immediately, if not sooner. Probably before I could get a complete sentence out.
“It’s just a little fun before I have to go away…forever.”
They stare at me in silence, then thankfully, the waiter appears to take our orders. It’s a moment of reprieve from the questions and the looks. From the expectations. Everyone gets this new viral cucumber-and-tomato steak salad with black beans. I don’t, though.
I need some carbs.
I decide on a turkey-and-Swiss wrap with avocado and crispy bacon. It also comes with homemade sweet potato fries and a cinnamon butter dipping sauce. I’ll be taking full advantage of the sauce.
The moment the waiter walks away with a promise to return with food soon, I lift my gaze to meet the ones of my friends, and I let out a long, exhausting exhale before I continue. Clearly, theydon’t believe my words about a little fun, judging by their arched brows.
“I’m a liar,” I state.
They all snort, but it’s Dakota who speaks first. “We know you are,” she whispers. “You love him.”
“I love him,” I confess.
Saying the words should probably make me feel something other than sadness. But it doesn’t. I’m sad. I’m sad that I love him and will never know what a life with Gunnar would be like. I’m sad that I finally got what I wanted, him, and I can’t keep him, not that he would ever let me.
And that makes me even sadder.
Posey opens her mouth next, and I already know what she’s going to say. It’s going to be a gentle reminder about the contract having an out. But I don’t let her say a fucking thing. Lifting my hand, I show her my palm, shaking my head from side to side.
“No,” I whisper. “I don’t want out of the wedding. I’m going through with it.”
“But, Lainey,” Millie murmurs. “You love someone else.”
I can’t have this conversation. I open and then close my mouth. I’m not sure how to continue with this, but then I clear my throat before I speak. I want this part of the conversation to be done.
And as each day grows closer to the wedding, I realize that these days are going to be over soon. This is probably the last time I’m going to have lunch with my friends, and they’re not even all here.
My life as I know it is growing closer to an end.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “Viking only wanted to do this, to be with me, because he knew it had an expiration date. He doesn’t love me, and it doesn’t matter what I think of him.”
“He’s the asshole here. I hope you know that,” Posey snaps.
Pressing my lips together, I flick my gaze down to the table. I stare at the wet ring the water glass has made on the marble surface. She’s right. Vikingisthe asshole here, but it doesn’t make me love him or want him any less. And it doesn’t make me any less of an equal participant.
Because I do want him…badly.
“I know,” I say on a long-exhaled breath. “Which is why I’m going through with the wedding. If I stay here, it won’t end well. If I walk away on a good note, no harm, no foul.”