THE EX ALMOST SISTER WIFE
Josh drops me off late Monday night. I beg him to stay over, but I know that he's headed into the office bright and early tomorrow, so I don't press him. Lots to catch up after a four-day weekend away.
All is well. I need to crack down on the GZ2 grand opening plans, considering we are 4 days out! We are hosting special classes and yoga post competitions, discounted memberships, free swag bags, the works.
I shower quickly and wrap my hair in a towel, letting the fig hair mask nourish away as I unpack my weekend bags. I (heavy) pour myself a glass of vino and settle into the couch when I hear a knock.
Am I weak if I hope Josh's changed his mind and is in the hallway wearing nothing but a trench coat?
I swing open the door and see not the last person I'd expect, but not Josh.
"Lauren?!"
"Emmy!" She squeals as she hugs me.
"You're here –In Seattle! I cannot believe you're here! What the hell?" I stare at Lauren on my doorstep.
"I know. I know," she says, throwing her hands up in agreement. "I just needed to get away. Get a break from wedding plans."
"And you thought Seattle?" I raise my brow.
"I did. My own yoga retreat," she jokes. "Plus, my sister is hitting the third trimester, and everything is nuclear. I forgot to pick up her burrito and she disowned me."
"Understandable," I nod.
I step back to let her pass and I grab the extra bag from the floor since her hands are full with a Chanel bag.
"Airport shopping?" I accuse.
"Maybe." She smirks. "Anyways, I miss you. Haven't seen you in like a month. Have to watch your life on your stories. That sailboat.... Ummm. Yes, please, Mr. Harding."
I roll my eyes at Lauren's nickname for Josh. She decided the very first time she saw a picture of him that he was simply too posh and too sophisticated to go by a first name.
"You really came because you miss me?" I ask, frowning. "I can read Lauren almost as well as Trix."
"Well, also maybe I wanted to be the one to tell you..." She trails off, biting her lip and becoming way too interested in my lazy llamas tapestry.
"Tell me?" You know the first thing that runs through my head. And it's not that she's pregnant or the wedding is cancelled or anything's wrong.
Nope.
It's him. He's engaged or he's eloped like Alex or who the hell knows.
"They were just back home for a visit. Last one before the big store opens in LA." Lauren stops abruptly. I wonder if my face is contorted. "Yes, I've met her. Yes, I still like you better."
I laugh feebly. "Just say it, Lauren."
"They're moving in together," she blurts out.
"Oh," I say, coming down from the spastic high. "Oh, ok."
It's not so bad. Really, I assumed they were already living together probably.
"Just didn't want you to read about it, ya know?" She squeezes my wrist.
"Much obliged," I tell her, smiling.
"Phew, now that's done. I'm starved. Can we eat?"
"Not like it's 10 PM and my hair is in a mask or anything." I roll my eyes at her.
"So let's order in."
I direct Lauren to the take-out menu drawer in the kitchen so she can order food while I rinse out my hair. I change into sweats and brush my hair as I sit on the couch.
"Ordered Thai." Lauren announces plopping herself on the couch. "Such good Thai out west."
"So as we wait, let's talk wedding." I am eager to 100% not talk about Brooks moving in with model Cece Majors.
But I'm OK about it. 99%. And the remaining 1% is just because nothing is perfect.
"Well..." Lauren says, drawing it out. "First and foremost, we still can't agree on a honeymoon locale."
"I mean, obviously that's the whole reason you're getting married, so figure your shit out," I state plainly, winking.
"You know it."
Lauren tells me all about her plans for the New York weekend. I assure her that Mr. Harding is definitely coming with me. She goes on and on about her knocked-up sister again. Now she can't fit into her maid-of-honor dress. Lauren shows me pictures of Marci and Penn, the other two girls in the wedding.
We end up dozing on the couch until I finally drag her over to my bed where we both crash. I crack a window so my loft doesn't smell like a Thai kitchen in the morning.
So much for getting anything done today. Lauren and I have breakfast, I show her GZ2 and we get coffees at my favorite beanery.
We squeeze in a yoga class and then walk to Pike Place Market for lunch. We walk lazily to the pier where she insists that we ride the Seattle Great Wheel. She's almost as hard to say no to as Trix.
It's basically like I'm taking her on a Jemmy date, which I'm not mad about.
We're peak Ferris Wheel, enclosed in the temperature-controlled gondola, and Lauren frowns again.
"You sure you're good with this all? I know I've skimmed the surface asking, but I've never really asked." Lauren looks ashamed with herself. "And the wedding –Oh my God, I'm so rude."
"Lauren, it's fine," I laugh. "Honestly. I have Go Zen and my Joshi and my life here. And everyone I love back home."
"So no residual feelings, then?" Her blonde eyebrow moves half way up her forehead.
Maybe it's the way she phrases it, or something, but I suddenly think about if I do have any residual feelings.
"I guess, maybe," I begin, fumbling my own words. "It's something that I can't capture. A remnant that I remember even though I'm not supposed to remember."
She watches me, nodding.
"Does that make any sense?" I ask out loud, focusing heavy on my bubble tea.
"Total sense. I'm with you." She nods.
"Anyway," I sigh, shaking my head. "You're not rude at all. So enough of that. I'll survive meeting her and then everything will go back to normal."
"Oo, I got it!" Lauren exclaims.
"Got what?"
"What you should do. To ditch the remnants." She smiles way too happily, her straw between her pink lips.
"What?"
"You should write a letter. To him."
"HA!" I laugh. "OK. One, I love the disgusted face you made at him. And two, a letter? What year is it?"
"Oh stop, you're all millennial old school. And I know you got some 2000s angst bubbling up inside."
"I'm dying," I tell her, laughing too hard.
"Dying because I'm right?" She raises her eyebrow, grinning.
"You want me to write an angsty 2000s letter to Brooks? Pen to paper letter?" I just double check to make sure she's 100% crazy.
"Maybe angsty, maybe not," Lauren says, shrugging. "Just feel like it would help. Even if you just write it for you and only you."
"But to him?" I confirm.
"Yes."
We walk back to my loft and if I'm being honest Emmy, I've already drafted 97 letters in my head. It would be cathartic, if nothing else.
Maybe Lauren is onto something.
And I never have to mail it...
YOU ARE READING
Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)
ChickLit*THREEQUEL* Even when they're done, all things are never really over. It's been one year since Emmy left for the airport, two tickets in hand. A long, eventful year. Brooks has successfully launched the flagship Edge and snagged a model girlfriend...
