The Summer Wedding | A Belly and Jeremiah fanfic

Chapter Thirteen

1 year later

"Happy Anniversary, Belly!"

My face is buried in my bedding and I let out a very long groan, just to let Taylor know that I'm not at all pleased with being woken up at this ridiculous hour.

12am to be precise. 12am on the dot, because as she rudely woke me up to announce, it has been a whole year since I left George Westfield at the alter.

Taylor has rambled on for weeks about the upcoming 'anniversary', as she likes to call it, and I don't even know why I'm shocked to be awoken at 12am for an absolutely ridiculous reason.

I feel her nudge my limp body, which gives me another reason to groan dramatically.

"Champagne, babes," Taylor explains, which peaks my interest a little. I poke my head out to see the beautiful glass of bubbly liquid she's holding out to me.

I don't care if its too late or too early for alcohol, I need it. If Taylor insists on treating this day as if it's something to celebrate, then I will definitely need it.

I brush back the frizzy strands of hair that tickle my cheeks, before taking the glass with somewhat of a smile on my face.

"How does it feel?" She asks as she interviews me with the bottle of bubbles.

"How does what feel?" I croak out before deciding to take a sip.

"A whole year being single. One whole year you've gone without a man on your arm. No fling, nothing. How does it feel?" She repeats the question.

I groan for the third time in the last five minutes, "great."

Her whole body sags in disappointment.

"If you want more out of me, you're going to have to wait until I've had the correct amount of sleep. Or at least until this kicks in." I raise the glass.

She rolls her eyes before throwing herself on my bed. That's typical for her. I don't think I'm ever in her room, on her bed or in her space. Taylor just likes to invade my privacy. I guess I've grown to get used to it, but I'll always respect other people's.

I moved into an apartment with Taylor a few months after the wedding shitshow. Everyone thought it would be good for me to get away from my hometown, away from George and the memories of everything.

So, we moved to Cousins. Obviously. Because where else is there? Where else would be more perfect than here? I've had more amazing memories here than anywhere else, even a few of them include Taylor. This is where I belong. This is where my life picks up.

Or... where it was supposed to pick up.

The plan was to move away from everything and get my life sorted. I new place, new job, new life. I figured that once I had the first two, the latter would just come hand-in-hand, but I don't really feel as if my life has significantly improved much since the wedding shitshow.

Yes, I live far enough away from George that I may never have to see him again. Yes, I get to live with my best friend. Yes, I get to create more memories in this gorgeous haven. I just expected to think less about George. To regret it less. It has been a year, as Taylor is repeatedly reminding me.

Why can't I seem to get over him? Why can't I seem to get over the dream summer wedding? And why, God, why do I not seem to find any man attractive anymore?

Taylor keeps telling me to have flings or just put myself out there, but I don't seem to care about any of that anymore. I've been there, I've done that and it was a shitshow. Maybe I just don't have it in me to do it all over again...