Page 82 of How to Ruin a Wedding

“Taina.”

“I won’t show up unannounced,” she grumbles. “Are you just going to abandon me even though I’m here?”

“Of course not,” I say. “I’m going to pack my things and stay with you.”

Taina follows me to the guest room, where I immediately start shoving everything of mine into my luggage. Her gaze is warm at the back of my head as I move, but she doesn’t speak until I’m halfway done.

“I’d love for you to stay with me,” she begins. “We can stay up all night watching reruns ofThe Nanny.”

“Just like the good old days.” I shove the rest of my shorts into the sloppy mess of clothes.

“But.”

“No buts,” I counter.

“However—”

“No synonyms of buts.”

“You’re very obviously stressed out.” She ignores me. “I haven’t seen you like this since, forever, really.” She pauses, then adds, “Well, not since you had to bail me out of jail.”

“A happy memory,” I say. “Thank you.”

“What could have Miss Keep It Together Even When the World Is Ending in a frenzy like this?” Before I can tell her to shut up, she says, “YoulikeAnders! It’s not just attraction.”

Always the observant little brat.

When I don’t say anything, she pounces.

“You like Anders, you’re freaking out because you’re trying to ruin his sister’s wedding, and you’re already telling yourself every singlereason why it will go wrong, and how you have to focus on working on what you know for sure isn’t risky—money. Getting paid.”

I slam my hand on the suitcase when the zipper gets caught. “What am I? Some teenager nervous to ask a boy to prom?” I stand. “I like Anders? I think I’m too old for a crush.”

Taina rolls her eyes. “Because your heart shrivels up and rots after the age of sixteen?”

“Because I’m an adult doing a job, who lives in an entirely different state, with no ties to Anders or this place. And I’m about to make his entire family hate me.” When she approaches me, I hold up a hand. “I swear to God, Taina, I’m not in the mood. Help me close this suitcase before I shove you in it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Taina says, and helps yank the zipper into place with both hands and a little grunt.

We sit in silence for a moment, side by side on the edge of the bed, catching our breath like we just fought the suitcase into submission. Which, honestly, we did.

Then she says, more gently now, “Don’t get mad, but I’m serious. You can talk to me. Unload whatever thoughts are ping-ponging in that pretty little head of yours.”

And maybe it’s the fact that the room feels too quiet, or that her tone has softened just enough to slip through my defenses, but something in me gives. Would it be so bad to share some of my worries?

Anders and his family rely on each other so easily, like it’s second nature. I watch it happen between them all the time—silent support, unspoken understanding—and I realize I’ve never really let that happen between me and Taina. Not really.

Taina never held back her troubles; it’s been me all along. But maybe letting someone else hold a piece of it, just for a moment, won’t be the end of the world, especially because Taina loves me in a way nobody else does. Wouldn’t her comfort mean more?

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“With Anders?”

“With a lot, but especially with him.”

She waits, like she knows I’m not done.

I sigh. “It’s not just that I like him. It’s thatif, keywordif, I did want something more with him, I know it wouldn’t work. Not because he’s done anything wrong, but because I haven’t got my shit together. I mean, look at me. I’m floating from couch to couch, trying to scrape together enough money to finally start the life I’ve been planning for years. Meanwhile, he’s already living his. He’s stable. He’s good. He knows what he wants.”