Page 8 of The Best I Never Had

Chapter 3

THEA

I stare at the small, unimposing restaurant, just another spot in this small, unimposing town. The drive through looked familiar, in the way all these mountain towns look alike. When I came to the area with Owen, we made a game out of finding something unique in each of the tiny, near identical towns on the drive from the Asheville airport to his family’s property. A store that sold both fishing bait and fine women’s clothing; a restaurant called Hawk’s Landing that had a massive moose statue in front of it; a taxidermist that had three dozen stuffed animals on the front porch.

It had been a surprisingly fun way to pass the two-hour drive with a stranger.

This trip up has been a less pleasant experience. Instead of a quick flight, I had an eight-hour drive, and instead of the promise of financial security at the end, I have a mountain of bills and no income waiting for me. I’ve spent the past few weeks trying to find a new server job, but no one’s hiring. One of my old coworkers connected me with a catering company, but those gigs are unreliable and exhausting. I can’t do that forever.

But that’s a problem for future Thea. Present Thea has enough to worry about, like getting my ass to this party.

I shoot off a quick text to my best friend.

Thea: Made it alive and partially sane

Vaughn: Change your mind about me coming yet?

I fight off the urge to beg him to jump on the next plane. He’d come and run interference for the awkwardness I’ll create, but I don’t want him saving me. I don’t want Addy to see me rolling up with my best friend—who wasn’t invited—like a child who needs a babysitter. This is my chance to show up for her, to prove that all those mistakes of the past don’t define our relationship.

Thea: It’s just my sister’s wedding! It’ll be great!

Vaughn: Two exclamation points in one text? You’re clearly having a breakdown. Booking my flight now

Thea: Fuck off. Love you.

Vaughn: Same

I flip down the visor to check my makeup one last time. I’d done it in pieces at red lights, frantically spreading on my concealer or making it through one eyebrow before it switched back to green, and I’m sure I’ll find a giant mascara smudge.

I’d planned on arriving hours ago, giving myself time to settle into the hotel before the welcome party, but the universe was against me. First, there was a massive accident on I-75. Then, in an attempt to make up the time lost, I got pulled over for speeding. I don’t speed. I can’t afford to speed—either the ticket itself or the increase in insurance costs—but I was so anxious to get up here, to make sure Addy had someone in her corner, that I broke my own rule. And am paying for it. Literally.

When I enter the restaurant, the hostess greets me with a cheery “Welcome! You here for the Hayes party?”

“Yeah,” I answer, fiddling with my dress. It’s a little much for this dinner, but they have too many wedding events planned, and I have limited options.

“This way, then.” She talks as we walk, even though I don’t register half her words, before she pulls back the curtain to the private room. “Have a great time.”

I push into the party. Addy’s across the room, outfitted in a perfect white dress. It’s stunning, but still demure, like she’s been reincarnated as an article of clothing.

For the first time in person, I see the man who’s marrying my sister. He’s tall, with thick blond hair and a confident smile. He maintains contact with Addy the whole time I watch them—a hand moving up and down her back, an arm slung around her shoulder, fingers twined together—like he can’t keep his hands still when she’s near. Loving. Reassuring. And when Addy smiles up at him, it knocks the breath out of me.

Addy’s always smiling, the result of a desire to be what everyone wants at all times. She’s never angry, never disappointed. But it’s all an act—a desperate attempt to hold on to love where she can find it—and I see through it every time. That isn’t the smile I receive from her, genuine and joyful, with a touch of mischief. That smile has always been reserved for me, and me alone.

But Harrison doesn’t get my smile, either. This smile is so wide it splits her face, enormous, perfect, and tinged with the slightest bit of awe, like she can’t believe the person she’s looking at is real. I love it for her and am terrified of it in equal measure.

I study Harrison more closely. There’s something familiar about him. When I saw his picture last month, I thought I must have served him at Cibare. But now? It feels like more, and I can’t put my finger on it. The woman they’re talking to is familiar, too. Like my attention summons hers, she looks up at me and gasps.

Addy turns to me, my smile lighting her face before she calls out “Tia!” right as her husband-to-be hollers, “What?”

I reach around me, double-checking my dress isn’t tucked into my underwear from my backseat dressing room session, the cool of the red silk caressing my fingers.

My butt isn’t on display, regardless of how the group is looking at me.

I scan the room, trying to figure out what I’ve done in less than two minutes that has everyone looking at me like I ate the cake while they were in the bathroom.

I spot a woman who will stick in my mind forever, and my stomach drops to the floor. Beautiful in an unattainable way, but those soft features from three years ago are now twisted in shock.

And then I’m spinning again, looking for the person I know has to be here. The sea of faces blurs together, my rising panic making everything merge.