“Did Leo and Jared make it?” I asked Rome, since he was the only person aside from Marlena that I felt comfortable around.

“Nah, they booked their own trips before I even had a chance to invite them over,” Rome answered. “It’s just Carter and me.”

Damn.

Now I really needed a way out of this.

I glanced again at the happy couple, and I say the term very loosely because they were barely touching each other, or even talking. No, Molly was more interested in her cell phone that had been puked on by sparkling diamantes, and Carter was…still staring at me intently.

I felt my cheeks heat. Why were things awkward? We parted ways on a wonderful note. He’d kissed me good bye, and though he’d been broken up by it, he had also been ecstatic for the future.  Now it was like we were strangers. That shouldn’t have been possible. He should have gotten up and given me a hug! He should have asked me how I was doing, making silly jokes like we used to. Instead, I got this strange indifference from him that had me feeling like I didn’t belong.

Was he pissed because of the letters? Because I’d never answered him?

I opened my mouth to say something to him, but my nerves acted like a noose around my neck. I was too chicken-shit. Story of my life.

Say something, Leah. I told myself. Maybe you need to break the ice. Speak now!

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” I muttered under my breath.

I bolted out of there and into the main bathroom, shutting it behind me. I stood there for a long time, staring at the door like it was a portal to hell. Then I glanced at my face and cringed at my complexion. Yeah, totally shit looking.

Did I really have to look like this now?

I hadn’t seen Carter in three years. Our heartfelt departure still weighed on my being, and he had suddenly showed up out of nowhere, with arm candy I currently could not compete with, staring at me with such indifference, you’d think he loathed me! When I thought of what our reunion would be like, it never came close to this. It involved rose petals and sandy beaches and doting smiles under a bright sun.

But never this.

I pulled my cell phone out and quickly dialled Mel. She’d know what to do.

“Hey, hooker. Bored yet? Come home. I can still put on some Jason Momoa,” she said straightaway.

“He’s here!” I whisper-yelled at her.

“Who? Jason Momoa? Holy shit, how’d you manage that?”

“No, not Jason Momoa!”

“Fuck.”

“Carter,” I hardly whispered into the phone.

“What?”

“Carter.”

“I can’t hear you! Speak up!”

“Car-ter!” I said slowly and a little more loudly.

She went quiet on the other end for a moment. Then, “Go fuck yourself.”

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t freaking see that. “I’m being serious! I’m hiding out in the bathroom right now. Totally blindsided by this, Mel.”

“Is Rome there too?”

“Yes, and he’s brought his girlfriend with him. Oh my God, Melanie, she’s –”

“My look-alike, I know,” she cut in impassively, the damn mind reader that she was. “I’m already aware of that douchebag settling with a less than perfect twin of me. I’m actually tempted to go there right now and have a look –”

“No!” I almost yelled. “No, you cannot do that! You’ll ruin his parents’ anniversary, you selfish witch. Marlena’s so happy right now. Do not sabotage it!”

She cursed. “Well what do you want then?”

“I don’t know what to do! I’m terrified. He’s in the next room and he keeps glaring at me.”

“Glaring at you?”

“Yes, glaring! Like he hates me. And he’s with his freaking girlfriend to boot –”

“Molly Anderson is at that house right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I know!”

“Well, shit.”

“Should I come home? I’ll say it’s an emergency, like you got hit by a car or something. We can pretend you have a broken leg. Didn’t you say your sister was good with her hands? I’ll get her to do a cast and –”

“Hell no!” she interrupted, suddenly getting riled up. “You go in there and you show him how alright you are! Show him you’ve moved on, and you’re happy. Be confident. Rub it in that him tearing your heart open and squeezing every last drop of love from it hasn’t ruined you. In fact, it’s made you a cold-hearted man-hater, and you’re one step away from joining the feminist movement.”

I froze. What did she just say? “What did you just say?”

“You heard me!”

“I’m not a man-hater.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I love men!”

“You always complain about them.”

I frowned. “When was the last time I complained about one?”

“You said your boss was a dick.”

“Because he is a dick! If he was a woman, I’d call her a dick too.”

“You wanted the world run by women just the other night!”

“That was you!”

“Why are you arguing with me?”

My jaw dropped. “I’m not!”

“You’ve taken too long on the phone. They all probably think you’re taking a shit. I’m hanging up now. Tell me everything later.”

My head was spinning. “But –”

“And pretend you’re in a relationship! Nothing screams more proof of moving on than being in a relationship! Avoid being alone with him, don’t listen to his smooth talk, and report back to me later, hooker-face.”

Before I could respond, she hung up and I almost growled at the empty line. Talking to her was like talking to a deranged person at times. But she was right. I’d taken too long. Dear God, I hoped they didn’t think I’d taken a shit. As if I needed any more reasons to feel more conscious than I was already! Facing the portal of hell, I took a deep breath and opened it.

Be confident, she said. Show him I’ve moved on, she said. Okay, I could do that. After all, it was the truth.

A truth that was slowly diminishing upon seeing him, but whatever.

I rejoined them in the living room just as the front door opened and stocky Harold came barrelling up the stairs with bags and bags of take-out. I could smell Chinese food in the air, and my stomach ached. I hadn’t eaten all day, and while the thought of digesting a couple pounds of noodles and pork dumplings sounded like a dream, I was feeling nauseous being so near to Carter. Regardless, I stood tall and pretended I was oozing self-confidence. I deserved an award for my acting abilities. Except for my eyes. Sadly, they couldn’t help themselves.