Page 91 of Seein’ Red

A muffled whisper of “Oh my God,” comes from behind me, and this time I definitely know it’s Sylvie. There’s something in the way she mutters it that says she’s on my side. I have to fight back a smile, my heart loving that knowledge. Excited that this could finally be it.

Willa’s expression doesn’t change though. And all the hope that was starting to bubble inside fades faster than the tide washing away a message in the sand.

“Fuck off, Nash. I hate you.”

25

WILLA

I slam my apartment door behind me, making the frames on the walls rattle. Usually that would annoy me, but I’m already so flustered, I don’t think there is anything else on this planet that could push me further.

Then, I look to my left.

My bridesmaid bouquet is still resting on the kitchen island, still not in a vase. I only thought about putting it in water a dozen times since arriving home last night. I just never got around to actually doing it.

I was too distracted by Nash.

Nash…

Deep, sharp, stabbing pain cuts into me, like my heart is being carved right out of my chest. My knees buckle and I reach out, placing my hand on the counter to hold me up. It’s not much, but it does the job.

At least for a moment.

Another wave of pain, this one accompanied by nausea—haven't I had enough of that?!—hits me. Tears spring from nowhere, stinging my eyes and cool against my flushed cheeks as they fall. I don’t know what this is, but the hurt is so raw I feel it everywhere.

The room goes fuzzy, my knees wobbling even more, a foreboding sense of doom shrouding me as I sink down to the ground. I might not be able to pinpoint a name for this feeling, but I do know that the more it surrounds me, the more I feel like nothing is going to be okay ever again.

This must be what the dementor’s kiss feels like…

My ass hits the ground and I curl my knees up, back against the island, resting my forehead on them. It’s all I can do—all I can focus on as I try to breathe. It gets harder and harder though, my chest constricting with each inhale.

The sound of my door opening, my name being called out, catches my attention, but I don’t move. I don’t even look up. That would require energy I don’t have. Energy that this pain is sucking right out of me.

“Willa…” Kenzie says, her voice filled with concern.

Without another word, all three of them join me on the floor, surrounding me. One on each side, the third right in front, wrapping their arms around me, pulling me close and just holding me.

And I break.

A gut-wrenching sob racks my body, my cry high-pitched enough to break glass. It’s certainly enough to shatter me. Into a million little pieces, skittering across the floor.

We sit like this for I don’t know how long, my three best friends letting me cry, offering up all the solace they can. Which isn’t much. Still, their gentle squeezes and “we’re here” declarations are comforting.

Eventually, I look up. Right into Kenzie’s worry-filled brown eyes.

“Don’t even say it,” I warn her, my voice cracking.

“Say what?”

“That karma’s only a bitch if you are.”

Kenzie bites her lips, fighting back a chuckle. “You’re not a bitch, Willa. Tougher than bad jerky, as my dad would put it, but not a bitch.”

I try and force a smile, but can’t. The pain is still too raw and real to even fake it.

“So…I’m not pregnant.”

Kenzie nods but doesn't say anything. Her silent acceptance means more than anything.