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Bad Cruz_L.J. Shen

Page 30

by Shen, L. J.


  It was disturbingly wholesome.

  I was starting to think they were planning Bear’s bachelor party in Vegas without my consent.

  “You’re only thirteen, Bear. You should tell me if you see people who aren’t your father. I didn’t authorize this.”

  “We went fishing.” Bear opened a cabinet over my head and took out a cereal box, pouring half of its content into a bowl. “Besides, we both know Uncle Cruz is not a bad influence on me. It’s not my fault you didn’t want to move in with him. Which, by the way, technically means I should be mad at you. I could’ve had a game room, Mom.”

  He leaned against the counter and began shoveling cereal into his mouth using a spoon, sans milk. He got it from his dad. Rob never used to put milk in his cereal, which in my humble opinion was definitely grounds for deportation from this planet.

  “Cruz told you that?”

  “No, Dad did when Cruz wasn’t there.”

  “What’d he say, exactly?”

  “Only that I shouldn’t tell you that he said anything—oops—and that Cruz was kind of bummed about it, I guess.”

  “Really?” I asked thirstily. “Did he look broken to you?”

  “No.”

  “Did he cry?”

  Bear stared at me like I was insane.

  I was insane.

  “No.”

  “Well, now.” I sniffed, tilting my chin up. “Guess he’ll survive, then. Dr. Costello is a very sought-after man.”

  A sought-after man who stayed true to his word and hadn’t contacted me since he gave me an ultimatum and I blew it.

  Bear gave me a pitiful look.

  Heartbreak was so miserably horrible.

  Now I remembered why I didn’t do relationships.

  It felt the same as the last time I’d tried.

  Three hours later, I walked into the bridal suite Trinity was occupying ahead of her church ceremony at the Grace Covenant Church downtown.

  And when I say “bridal suite,” I mean her childhood room, because Fairhope wasn’t known for its hotels, or for its wedding venues, or really, for anything whatsoever when you thought about it.

  It was the first time I’d seen my family since the peanut fiasco when I came to pick up Bear and got a shower of insults.

  My family did not contact me after Gabriella had come to inform me she had set the record straight, and frankly, I had been too busy applying for loans to pay for my personal stylist course to talk to them.

  Or maybe I just didn’t think there was much to be said after the way they’d left things.

  “Mooooooom,” Trinity whined, sitting in front of her mirror in a bathrobe. “I can’t do this. I really can’t. I need to call the wedding off.”

  I slipped into the room, in which Gabriella and Mom were running like headless chickens, the hairstylist pinning Trinity’s hair into place, hovering above her head.

  Gabriella looked up from shining Trinity’s shoes and threw me a smile. “Hi, Nessy.”

  “Hi, Gabriella.” I closed the door behind me.

  Trinity welcomed me with a huff and an eye roll, and my mother gestured toward the door.

  “Nessy, you’re late. Do us a favor and get everyone some refreshments and a little snack for Bethany, the hairstylist. We’re having a crisis here.”

  Hello to you, too, Mother.

  What’s that? Yes, I’m okay despite the jail stint. Thanks for asking how I’ve been.

  And yes, I’m very relieved that Gabriella told you the truth.

  Pettily, I turned to Gabriella with a quizzing look, not wanting to address my mother if she couldn’t even apologize for what she’d put me through.

  “What’s happening?”

  “The makeup artist is not coming.” Gabriella winced. “She got into a car accident.”

  “Is she okay?” I asked.

  “Oh, who cares?! It’s so like Nessy to always ask the wrong question,” Trinity huffed.

  “Yeah, she’s fine, but the doctors think she might have a concussion, so she will be staying at the hospital through the night,” Gabriella replied mildly.

  I nodded and went downstairs to get everyone refreshments. Bear was already at the church with my father and Rob.

  Cruz was probably there, too.

  I wasn’t ready to see him.

  I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to see him.

  I didn’t know what to make of Rob and Cruz’s blossoming new friendship. It seemed like I had once again been pushed to the sidelines of a social circle that I was supposed to be a part of.

  I got back upstairs with a tray full of sparkling water, apple juice, and cookies, and set it on the edge of the vanity, as far as possible from Trinity, whose hair was almost done. It was coiffed elegantly and dramatically.

  “My goodness, what are you doing, Nessy? The juice is literally four feet away from me. That’s an accident waiting to happen,” Trinity bit out.

  “Nessy, why didn’t you bring the triangle sandwiches I made?” Mom complained, smoothing over the wedding dress hanging on Trinity’s closet door. “I don’t understand, they were right there on the counter.”

  “And I still don’t have anyone to do my makeup!” Trinity flung her arms in the air.

  “I can do your makeup,” I said quietly.

  I might’ve chosen to look like a drag queen up until a few weeks ago, but I knew my way around a makeup bag. I had a steady hand and was very good at dramatic eyeliner and contouring.

  Plus, my eyeshadow game was a killer.

  Trinity gave me a scandalous look. “Hard pass.”

  “Don’t upset your sister, Nessy. She is stressed as it is. Just go bring the triangle sandwiches.” Mom waved me off.

  “I think you should let Nessy do your makeup, Trinity,” Gabriella said gently, putting her hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “She’s our best shot. We won’t be able to find anyone semi-professional at such a short notice.”

  “She’s only going to ruin it,” Trinity moaned. “That’s her go-to. You know that as well as I do, Gabriella.”

  I wanted to get up and leave. Not only the room, but the town. The state. The country.

  The dislike I felt for and from the women in my life was so intense, so out of control, I could hardly breathe.

  “You have to be practical,” Mom cooed at Trinity. “Maybe Gabriella’s right. There’s no other choice.”

  “I’m still mad at her,” Trinity pouted.

  I smiled cordially, suddenly completely and utterly exhausted from her casual bullying, “Guess what? I’m mad at you, too. So why don’t you shove your spoiled tantrum up your ASS and find someone else to try to make your UGLY beautiful, because lemme tell you, baby sister, this one’s going to be a challenge.”

  Everyone in the room stared at me with shock.

  Yup. I went there.

  I cursed.

  Trinity was the first to recover. Her mouth turned into an O-shaped, silent scream.

  “See? She just called me ugly on my wedding day.”

  I turned around, opened the door, and ran out, taking the stairs two at a time. Mom bolted after me like lightning.

  “Tennessee Lilybeth Turner! Do you really think it’s the right time to pick a fight with your sister?”

  “Yes,” I said calmly, grabbing my purse and heading for the door. “She’s surrounded by all her fans—she’s got nothing but support from you all.”

  I was already dressed in my lavender bridesmaid outfit, but was seriously contemplating making a stop back at home and changing into an all-black outfit. After all, this was going to be the funeral for Wyatt Costello’s happiness.

  Mom continued following me to the door. “Look, I know she is a little overwhelmed…”

  I turned around sharply, raising my palm up to stop her from talking.

  “No, she is not. She is a complete and utter bitch to me, and so are you. My entire life, I tried to pacify you. You worked me to the bone to get this wedding to be exactly what she wa
nted it to be. She didn’t even invite me to her bachelorette party and pretty much assaulted me into breaking up with the only man I ever truly cared about.”

  “Honey…”

  “And not only that,” I raised my voice, hoping Trinity was able to hear, “but when Mrs. Holland accused me of trying to kill her daughter, you simply took her word for it. It took Gabriella to come to you personally and tell you that it wasn’t true, and even then, you didn’t have it in you to pick up the phone and apologize for your behavior. Yet, you knew I would show up here today. Do my part. Support you unconditionally. I’m done. Done with you. Done with Trinity. Done with this entire family. You’re not worth my love, my compassion, my everlasting loyalty. You are not worth all the things I freely give to you, because you don’t return even an ounce of it back.”

  “Nessy, wait!” Mom cried.

  I didn’t listen.

  I got out, making my way to my car. Driving away from the place that made me feel so weak, so inadequate, I felt a weird sense of calm wash over me.

  Finally, I was taking charge of my life.

  No more Messy Nessy.

  No one was going to put me down anymore.

  It took a lot from me not to go back home and change my outfit, but ultimately, I didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene by showing up looking like someone’s widow.

  Karma’d already got my sister nice and hard by denying her the makeup artist she was counting on.

  I showed up at the church early and noticed Bear, Cruz, and Rob standing on the front lawn in their tuxes, laughing about something.

  When Bear noticed me, he waved for me to come over. I couldn’t exactly turn around and flee, even if that’s what I wanted to do, so I marched along toward them.

  With each step I took, the knots in my stomach became tighter and more painful. Seeing Cruz so dashing, so gorgeous, made the weight of our breakup press against my sternum.

  I stopped a good few feet away from them and smiled. “How’s everyone doing?”

  “Great,” Rob beamed.

  “Awesome.” Bear grinned.

  “Fine,” Cruz clipped wryly.

  “You look beautiful,” Rob offered.

  “Thanks.”

  “Really, Mom. Like a princess. I love Auntie Trinity, but honestly, it must suck for her to walk down the aisle knowing the woman behind her is ten times more beautiful.”

  I squeezed Bear’s arm. “Aww. That’s the sweetest yet rudest thing I’ve ever heard. Thank you.”

  Rob looked between the three of us, a mischievous smirk painting his lips.

  “Hey, Care Bear, why don’t you come with me to ensure Uncle Wyatt is not drinking himself into a coma?”

  Bear laughed. “Okay. But does that mean you’ll let me have a sip of beer like you promised?”

  Rob’s face whitened, and he gave me an innocent look. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  “You watch it, pal. You’re not out of the woods yet.” I wiggled a finger in his direction, and just like that, Cruz and I were alone.

  It was painfully awkward. Especially because I’d tried calling him a few times and texted him every day, and he’d ignored every one.

  I didn’t know how someone who claimed he liked me was able to disregard me so thoroughly. I didn’t know how his soul didn’t bleed all over his mattress every night before he went to sleep.

  I couldn’t bear the pain of not being with him.

  He held me with a cold, guarded stare.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hello.”

  “How’ve you been?”

  “You asked that a few moments ago,” he pointed out.

  I was trying to work my way into an apology. No, into asking him to take me back, but he was making it hard .

  “Can’t we be friendly?” I asked.

  Cruz looked at me through his dark-blue, thickly-lashed eyes that I couldn’t stop dreaming about, rearranging the bow tie in his tux. “Sorry, sweetheart, no.”

  “No?” I echoed weakly.

  “No. I don’t want to be friendly with you. I’m an all-or-nothing type of guy, and right now, you’re offering me nothing, so I’m not going to give you the perks by pretending I don’t care.”

  There was so much I wanted to say, starting with how I was absolutely willing to give him my all, but before I could speak, a hand grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around.

  “Nessy, quick. Trinity’s asking for you.”

  It was Gabriella, who wore a replica of my own lavender dress and the face of a woman who was facing death row.

  The sight of Gabriella and me together gave Cruz pause. He looked at both of us with open interest before letting the mask of his indifference slip again.

  “Gabriella,” he said.

  “Cruz.” She smiled weakly. “Save a dance for me.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Poisoned dagger, meet my heart.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I said to Cruz.

  He turned around and walked over to Rob, Wyatt, and Bear without even acknowledging me.

  I let Gabriella drag me through the lawn into the limo Trinity had rented for the occasion.

  “What does she want?” I murmured on my way to the limo. “Is her something blue my face after she strangles me to death?”

  “She tried doing her own makeup and failed miserably. She asked for you, but then your mom said you basically bailed and no longer wanted anything to do with their miserable asses. So Trinity decided to come to you so you could do her makeup.”

  A few seconds later, I was sitting in front of Trinity in a spacious limo that smelled like lemons and champagne. Trinity’s entire face was puffy from tears, and she was hiccupping uncontrollably, looking at me like a sick puppy.

  “Nessy…” Hiccup. “I…” Hiccup. “Makeup…” Hiccup. “Gone wrong…”

  I screwed my mouth into a scowl, looking around us.

  “The driver will have to take us to the park or something. Somewhere sunnier where I can have some natural light.”

  “I’ll ask him.” Mom nodded, flicking a button to make the partition roll down as she spewed out instructions.

  A few moments later, I was doing a bride’s makeup while she sat on an old, rusty swing, in full wedding gown, while ignoring her tearful apologies to me.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much. Oh, Nessy, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank your lucky stars we’re genetically sisters, or I’d have left you to walk down the aisle looking like your nephew painted your face while you were asleep.”

  The ceremony itself was okay.

  I couldn’t stop staring at Cruz, who completely ignored my existence.

  I knew people were paying close attention to the two of us, considering how crazy the rumors had been, and I was also aware that it looked like he had dumped me and now I was pining for him for eternity.

  And strangely…I didn’t care.

  I had put so much emphasis on looking strong and unfazed throughout the years…and it got me absolutely nowhere. Now, I was hurting, and it was okay. I didn’t want to conceal it.

  It was the truth.

  Wyatt and Trinity exchanged vows. There were a lot of tears. Most of them were his. Man, did the man bawl his eyes out. I wasn’t sure if he was devastated to tie himself to another crazy woman, or suffered from some sort of a hormonal influx.

  Cruz had to hand him a tissue midway through his oath.

  Even Father O’Neill rushed through the if anyone can show just cause why this couple should not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace part, suspecting Wyatt himself was going to do just that, and we’d have a runaway groom on our hands (which reminded me—why were there no books and movies about runaway grooms? Surely, they existed, too?).

  When Father O’Neill instructed Wyatt to kiss Trinity, it looked like they were trying to give each other mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  Then Tr
inity burst out in tears after holding herself together for so long and whacked him with the bouquet, moaning, what the hell is wrong with you? followed closely by look what you made me do. I swore in a church, goddammit!

  On the way to the reception, there was a human-train accident. One of Trinity’s childhood friends stepped over another woman’s dress, and they both toppled over an elderly couple.

  Soon, there was a pile of people by the pews, trying to untangle themselves from one another. I was pretty sure Trinity was having a heart attack. She always liked everything to be perfect, especially when her new mother-in-law was in the vicinity.

  But when I stole a glance at my sister, she looked a little amused and not at all tearful anymore at the sight of people trying to stumble out of church without slipping over one another.

  Her eyes met mine unexpectedly.

  “Bet you this is the only thing people are going to remember when they talk about my wedding years from now,” she said to me, her way of handing me an olive branch.

  But I wasn’t quite so ready to let our feud go.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The groom cried like a little girl who watched Bambi for the first time. Don’t count on it.”

  When we got to the venue on the outskirts of Fairhope, things began to look up. The weather was glorious—a little on the hot side, but still beautiful—and the flowers surrounding the open barn were in full bloom.

  The tables and seats were rustic and elegant, freshly painted in white, swathed in romantic tablecloths, and a centerpiece flower arrangement on each of them, consisting of fresh daisies, lilies, and roses.

  There were sparkling fountains, a floating gazebo, manicured lawns, and a family of swans shyly angling their faces to take in the guests in a nearby pond.

  I also heard that the food was delicious, and that Wyatt and Trinity went for the most expensive culinary options, so I was hopeful the unlucky streak of the new Costello couple had come to an end, even if I still desired to beach-slap the bride.

  The Turners and the Costellos (sounds like a seventies’ band full of people with big hair and bell bottom jeans) were seated at a long king’s table decorated with pink roses, antique candleholders, and lanterns.

 

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