He Said I Was Slow to Commit While He Was Slow to Tell Me About Her Chapter 09

He Said I Was Slow to Commit While He Was Slow to Tell Me About Her Chapter 09

The line went quiet for two seconds.

My mother must have heard something in my voice because she did not ask anything else.

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll be here.”

A few minutes later, Garrett called.

He had probably seen that I reacted to Stella’s story and started worrying.

I did not answer.

I honestly did not know what was left for us to say.

Should I yell?

Cry?

Demand explanations he had chosen not to give me for years?

I was a practical person.

If any of that could have changed the outcome, I would have done it.

But Garrett and I had been moving in different directions for a long time.

At eleven-ten, my Uber pulled up outside the Hyatt.

I stayed in the back seat for a moment and took a breath.

Garrett’s mother had posted on Instagram ten minutes earlier.

A carousel of nine photos.

The cover photo showed Stella raising a glass beside her. Garrett stood on the other side. All three

of them were smiling.

The caption read:

[Such a wonderful day. So happy to have everyone here.]

I looked at the photo for two seconds.

The place that used to be mine had been filled by someone else.

Honestly, she did not even look out of place.

I locked my phone and went upstairs.

Floral arrangements framed the ballroom entrance. A welcome table stood just outside the doors.

Garrett was looking down at his phone.

When he saw me, surprise crossed his face.

“Avery?”

He walked over quickly, visibly relieved.

“Why are you so late?”

“Where’s my mother?”

“Inside, near the windows. Avery, I picked up Stella because she just got back and doesn’t know this

part of the city well.”

“Garrett.”

He stopped.

I looked at him.

“You don’t have to explain any of that to me.”

I walked past him into the ballroom.

My mother spotted me and waved.

I sat beside her.

She leaned closer.

“What did you want to tell me?”

I poured myself some sparkling water, took one sip, and set the glass down.

“Mom, I’m getting married on the eighteenth next month.”

“I know. The date is already…”

“The groom’s name is Weston Carey.”

Her fork slipped from her hand and hit the plate.

My father had been talking to someone beside him.

He turned at the sound, the smile still half on his face.

Both of them stared at me.

“What did you just say?” my mother whispered.

“You know Weston. He was in my architecture program.”

My mother opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

My father’s voice dropped.

“Does Garrett know?”

I looked toward the family table.

Garrett stood beside his mother.

Stella sat close enough that all three of them could look at the same phone screen.

Garrett’s mother was smiling as she showed Stella something, one hand resting warmly on her

wrist.

“I broke up with him.”

I said it quietly.

My mother followed my gaze and watched them for a long moment.

Then she turned back to me.

“Bring Weston home for dinner.”