Bring Me Back

I nod. “I’m scared,” I admit, afraid she might judge me for being afraid.


“Don’t be,” she says. “You’ll be a great mom, and you’ll have all of us to help you. Not to mention your parents and Ben’s mom.”

“I’m still going to be on my own,” I tell her. “People can’t help me forever.”

“No,” she agrees, “but by that point, you’ll be sick of us.” She winks. “Don’t stress so much, Blaire. I know how you overthink things. Take it one day at a time. Right now, the future is just that—the future; the last unknown territory to conquer.” She gestures wildly with my hand and I giggle. I actually giggle.

“Thank you.” I scoot closer to her and wrap my arms around her neck. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Blaire,” she says into my hair. “You’ll get through this. I know it.”

I’m glad someone believes I will, because most days, I believe I’ll never make it out of this hell.





I lead Jessica around the ballroom, telling her what I have in mind for the reception.

“I was thinking swaths of white fabric here, or in the color of your bridesmaids’ dresses if you prefer.” I motion with my hand to a length of the wall. “This room is pretty modern, so I feel like it should be softened. What do you think?”

She nods, mulling over my words. Her long red hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and she’s dressed in a pair of gray slacks and a pale pink blouse. She has a “take charge” persona, but she’s actually been very nice to me and willing to let me take over with the planning. I’ve grown used to people telling me exactly what they want, so it’s nice when someone allows me to plan an event entirely.

“I like that idea a lot.” She continues to nod. “I agree on white too.”

“Good.” I smile and take notes. I lead her to another part of the room and begin to go over more of my plans. She nods some more and approves everything I say, which makes my job a lot easier. We finish and head out to the parking lot together. “Bye,” I call cheerily.

“Bye.” She waves and gets into a sleek white BMW sports car.

I slide into my car and start the engine. Before I can pull out, I get a text.

<b>Unknown number: Danielle is sick and can’t make it. Can you pick up coffee and donuts? Or cupcakes? Or cookies? Anything? I’m desperate here.

</b>Even if the contents of the message didn’t give it away, I already had the number memorized.

Ryder.

<b>Me: Sure

Ryder: You’re a life saver. Thanks. I would’ve done it myself, but I have to get Cole from daycare and home to the sitter.

Me: You don’t have to explain.

Ryder: I wanted to. See you at Group.

</b>I set my phone in the cup holder and head over to a local cupcake shop. I get a random assortment of two dozen and then go across the road to Dunkin Donuts to get the coffee. I also beg them to let me buy some cups too, just in case. I haven’t been responsible for bringing the food and drink before, so I’m not sure if I’m supposed to bring the cups too. I snag a mountain of napkins from there too and receive glares from the staff. I ignore it, though. I have more important things to worry about than grumpy Dunkin Donuts workers.

I head straight to the high school after leaving Dunkin Donuts. I’ll be early, but since I have the stuff, I figure I should get there to set it up.

I get to the stoplight to turn onto the road that leads back to the high school and I end up behind Ryder. I follow him down the road and we park side by side. He hops out of his car and hurries over to mine to help me with everything.

He opens my door and I can’t help but look him over.

He’s dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a light-blue sweater that makes his olive-toned skin look even darker than normal. He’s not wearing his glasses today, and I find myself missing them.

“Hey,” he says, and it’s then that I realize I’ve been staring at him like a psycho.

My cheeks turn pink and I look away hastily, embarrassment clinging to me like a second, slimy skin. “Hi,” I mutter, reaching over for the coffee.

“Let me take that,” Ryder says, and grabs it from me. Our fingers touch and fireworks ignite across my skin. I jump back and my eyes widen in surprise. “Stupid static electricity,” he mutters, and I pale. That’s a much more plausible explanation for what I felt instead of … of … I can’t even describe what I thought it was.

I grab my purse and the cupcake boxes. Ryder waits patiently while I get out of the car and then closes the door for me.

We head inside the building together.

“How have you been?” he asks me as our feet squeak across the gym floor.

Micalea Smeltzer's books