It’s just the alcohol.
However, when I saw the blonde woman beside him flip her hair off her shoulder, I stood up.
“Gwen?” Stevie stood up beside me. “Are you okay—”
“I have to go.” I gathered up my things as fast as I could, but when I turned to leave, I ran into the server bringing in all of our desserts. The silver platter slipped, pouring all over me before falling to the carpet, and my first instinct was to look up to see if he had seen. I thought he must have moved because I couldn’t see him.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” I said to her. “I have to go. Sorry, Stevie.”
I ran. I ran as fast as I could, my purse and jacket in hand. My ankle twisted once, but, ignoring it, I just threw myself out the door, the cold air blowing across my face.
“Gwen!”
I didn’t want to look back.
She caught up to me and placed her hand on my shoulder. “Gwen, what is it?”
“He’s in there, Stevie. I saw him, he and she—”
“Gwen.” She gripped my sides. “He wasn’t there. It looked like him for a second, but when he looked over after the plates shattered…it wasn’t him.”
“Not him?” I echoed in a whisper.
She shook her head. “No. Come back inside.”
I wanted to smack myself. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.”
“It’s okay, come back inside and let’s order dessert.”
“Look at me, I’m a mess. I’m just going to sit this one out. I don’t want to mess this up any more for you, okay? I’m sorry, please go back in. Your friends are all waiting! This is supposed to be happy, remember? Go be happy. I’m okay, I swear.” It was a lie.
She looked me over.
I forced a smile, giving her a little push. “Go, or I promise I will tell even more embarrassing stories at your wedding. I can even gather photos.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” She lifted her hands and backed up. “Text me later?”
I just nodded and waved, because I knew if I said any more I wouldn't be able to keep it in, and it wasn’t fair to take over her day worse than I already had. When she went in, I turned and walked quickly, trying to use my coat to hide the stains on my dress, wiping the tears from my eyes. God, this sucks. Why am I like this? It wasn’t even him.
Eli
I pressed the close button for the elevator doors when she limped in, heels in her hands and a mess of something all over her blue dress. Her mascara was smeared, and she just stood there as the doors closed and we went up.
“Rough day?” she asked me.
It was funny, but I couldn’t laugh. “Yes. You all right?”
“Yep,” she said when the door opened, and we just went into our separate apartments.
Chapter Seven
We Are Not Okay
Guinevere
I was just deciding whether or not to knock on his door when he opened it wide, a first aid kit in his hands.
“What are you doing?” His eyebrows furrowed together and he took a slight step back.
“I don’t have a first aid kit yet, so I was going to ask to borrow yours,” I said quickly. “But never mind, I will just buy one tomorrow.”
“I figured.” He laughed, though he didn’t seem to find it funny. He held up the first aid kit. “I was going to give this to you.”
“Oh, thanks—” I reached for the kit.
He pulled it back, staring down at my ankle as I balanced on my other leg. “How bad is it?” He knelt in front of me. “Did you feel anything pop?”
“No, it’s fine.” I put my foot all the way on the ground, only to wince and lift it up again.
“That is not fine. Come in.” He took my elbow, helping me inside.
“Eli—”
“Keep walking.” He guided me toward his gray sofa.
Everything in his apartment was either navy, gray, or off-white, and annoyingly clean like one of those show homes or…well, like a hospital.
“Sit,” he commanded when we reached the sofa.
“I’m not a dog—”
Sighing, he just pushed me back slowly.
When my butt hit the couch, I felt the urge to just lean back into it. The thing was so soft. “This is nice…” I whispered, running my hand over the cushions.
“Isn’t it? It’s called a couch, a marvelous invention really. With all that empty space in your place, I wasn’t sure if you knew about such items.” He sat on his wooden coffee table, lifting up my leg.
“You are not funny—ah.” I winced as he pressed around my ankle.
“What happened?” He finally looked up.
“Why do you care?”
“Because if people see you coming in like that, the value of this place might go down.”
Reaching up, I tried to smack him.
He squeezed my ankle.
“Ouch! What happened to 'do no harm'?”
“Sorry, just checking to see if you tore anything.” He shrugged, a small smirk on his lips betraying the lie. “You're going to need to ice this first,” he muttered to himself, taking out a large, square instant ice pack. “After the swelling goes down, I’ll compress it. Hand me that pillow.”