Josh
Sloan and Brandon had said goodbye to their guests. Just Kristen and I stayed behind fulfilling our maid-of-honor and best-man duties helping them load the finished wedding favors and invitations into Brandon’s truck. Kristen, Sloan, and I stood on the patio watching the busboys blow out candles and clear the table while Brandon signed the charge draft.
“Good party,” Kristen said to Sloan. “We got it all done.”
Brandon handed the check to the server and came up behind his fiancée, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Sloan smiled, leaning into the kiss he put on her cheek.
Kristen got out her phone, and I watched her pull up the Uber app.
“Want to go get something to eat before we go home?” I asked her, hoping she’d go for it.
We’d been working on our projects for the last three hours, so it had been a while since we ate dinner, but my invite was just an excuse to stay out with her because I wasn’t staying the night tonight.
Or any other, probably ever again.
The backyard intruder had been apprehended. Some kid from the neighborhood, fucking around in people’s yards. I hadn’t told her. I needed to, but I just couldn’t bring myself to say it yet. The second she knew they caught the guy, I wouldn’t have any reason to sleep over tonight. I had work the next two days and when I came back, it would all be over. Tyler would be home.
This was my last night with her.
I tried not to let the disappointment darken my mood and ruin the little time I had left.
“Sure. But I can’t find an Uber,” she said, looking at her screen. “The nearest one is twenty-three minutes away. The bars must be getting out.”
“You can take my car,” Sloan said, hugging Brandon’s arms to her chest. “We took two cars over since I had to get here early. I’ll just ride home with Brandon.”
Kristen shook her head. “I’m not driving that thing.”
“I can handle it,” I said. “I can drive anything.”
“Can you?” Kristen eyed me.
“Ha ha. Give me the keys. I have work tomorrow. I haven’t had anything to drink besides the champagne toast.”
Sloan handed them over and we said our good-nights. Something was off with Sloan. She gave Kristen a hug that was a little too long to be casual, but Kristen’s face was unreadable.
“So where do you want to eat?” I asked as we walked out into the parking lot to the click of Kristen’s red heels.
“Tacos. I know a late-night place.”
This made me smile to myself. She always knew exactly where she wanted to eat. She wasn’t one of those women who gave you the “I don’t care” speech and then rejected every suggestion you made. When I pointed this out to her last week, she said she’s already thinking about what she wants for dinner while she’s eating breakfast. I loved that about her.
I loved a lot of things about her.
When I opened her door for her, it creaked miserably. Sloan drove an old Corolla. It looked like a car you’d find in a junkyard. It was a serious piece of shit.
The door on the driver’s side stuck, and I had to muscle it open. I got it started, but just barely, and I pulled out of the lot to the squeal of belts. Kristen pointed for me to turn left.
I looked at her. She was so beautiful tonight. The subtle hints of gold in her hair, the depth of her eyes, the fit of her dress. I had to drag my gaze back to the road. “Everything okay with you and Sloan? You guys spent a long time in the bathroom earlier.”
“Fine.” She looked out the window.