[Quote Aesthetic of the Chapterish]
...
IF MIDNIGHT BALCONIES COULD CRY
The guys join us in the limo on the way back. I'm lucky enough to be wedged between Alex and Brody and sitting across from Meg. Brooks and Whit are deep in an animated conversation. I find myself annoyed at her, before remembering she's not really my friend and therefore has zero loyalty to me. Not like the type I'd get from Trix or Meg.
Trix's eyes catch mine and she rolls her eyes disgustedly. I smile at her and blow a fake kiss to her spot in the corner beside Travis. My cheeks are in pain from all the *fake* smiling I've done tonight and am still doing currently.
"Ha!" I nudge Alex in the ribs, laughing at something he just said.
Even if Whit is too engrossed to notice, I see Brooks's eyes flutter for just a second. A second is enough. It's all I need to look dazzling, smiley, slightly buzzed, and laughing at Alex, like I'm having the time of my life.
And I'm still not petty enough.
We roll up to the gate and down the secluded driveway. Everyone exists the limo lopsidedly. I watch as they couple off, wandering in for whatever they have in store.
Brody and Lauren vanish first, without so much as Goodnight.
"Night kiddies," Meg says, leaning into Nate and pulling him inside.
Alex is half carrying, half dragging a V drunk Whit past the flower wall.
Trix eyes me cautiously. I stand against the limo, waiting for her and Travis to leave. Just to see if maybe Brooks has anything more to say than 'I'll see ya'.
Brooks is the last out of the limo. I'm standing here, dumbly, in my painted-on blue dress; I tuck my curl behind my ear, just waiting to catch his eye. But I don't.
Brooks barely glances at me before picking up his phone and laughing at whoever's on the other end.
"See ya, guys," he says, nondescript. Like he's not even talking to any of us!
Then he's walking down the driveway towards the road. Gone.
Trix shrugs as to say I'm not sure.
"Well, night love birds." I start walking inside.
"Hold it!" Trix says, skipping up to my side.
"What?"
"We need to sleep apart," Trix says, pointing between her and Travis. "Bad luck, duh. So I'm inviting myself to your room."
"Oh," I say, taken aback. "Yes, of course. You're sleeping with me tonight!"
"Sorry Trav," Trix says over her shoulder.
I catch Travis shaking his head, laughing, before we disappear into the foyer.
...
"Did you really want to sleep in my room?" I finally ask Trix as we cross the threshold into my dazzling white room.
The doors to the balcony are cracked and the room's filled with sounds of crashing waves.
"I did," she answers simply.
"Trix," I look at her, pulling off my pumps from the edge of the bed. "I'm not as fragile as I might look right now."
I go for light-hearted humor at the expense of myself.
"I know," she says.
Trix pulls on a freshly laundered robe and pats the spot on the bed next to her. I lay my head back on the pillow beside hers.
"I'm supposed to be comforting you tonight. Or at least supposed to be talking you out of getting married, you 50-year-old woman," I tease, frowning. I can hear sadness in my voice.
Trix just smiles at me from across the fluffy cloud. Her hair looks extra cherry-red next to the stark white pillow.
"You were right. He's different," I finally say. "A stranger."
I stand from the bed, my body feeling warm and prickly, and walk over to the balcony. I push the doors wide open and lean against the railing.
White lights outline the palm trees and walkways below. I follow them all the way beyond the pool, to the cliffs, to the perfect archway where this time tomorrow my best friend will marry her soulmate.
If I believed in that word anymore.
I scan the midnight horizon, painted blue by the moon. The ocean is endless tonight. Somewhere out there is Seattle, the Bahamas, home. Somewhere out there is everywhere I've ever been with Brooks and every place we'll never go.
"I just wanted this weekend to be absolutely perfect. More than perfect," I say, brushing tears off my face. I pull my hand away to see the gallon of mascara that I've cried off. "You deserve perfect."
"Em, I love you and you can cry the whole day tomorrow and it will still be the most amazing wedding. And nothing is perfect," she adds. "Being perfect is like being a mermaid. The closest you'll ever get is the hair."
I laugh through my sobs, collecting myself. I tousle her wavy hair on the balcony. It looks deep wine red in the moonlight. I sniffle all my crying back into my head.
"It is pretty fucking perfect," I admit.
"Now, as much as I love a good midnight cry," Trix says, yanking me back inside. "I don't trust you so close to this balcony."
"Trix!" I shove her playfully.
"Now, let's crawl back into this bed and get some beauty sleep. Not that either of us needs any," Trix quips.
I due as I'm told and yank off my dress and put on a new robe that's been laid out on the back of the chintz chair by the door.
"Do you guys have maid service here?" I ask, looking around. My suitcase has even been rolled into the closet, and all my clothes put away. I eyeball the taupe strappy heels that my feet will die in tomorrow.
"So I'm still torn between two hairstyles for tomorrow," Trix says, completely ignoring my question.
"Oh? Crazy updos?"
"This," Trix says, showing me a saved pic on her phone. "Or this one. This has more..."
"Wedding vibes?" I suggest.
"Exactly. But the first is so..."
"You?" I finish for her.
"Bet you think I'm pretty lame complaining about not knowing which hairstyle I want, considering-"
"It's not lame. And there's nothing and definitely no one I'd rather be doing right now."
"You're the best MOH I could ask for," Trix says, scrunching her nose at me.
"You're the best friend I could ask for."