Chapterish 63

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[Quote Aesthetic of the Chapterish]

[Quote Aesthetic of the Chapterish]

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We lounge poolside. With sensational fruit trays, a killer playlist, and one manicurist for each of us, our day is at full peak.

My feet are propped up and my toenails are currently being painted a very beautiful bone color (selected by Trix). Are we even a bridal party if we don't have matching pedicures?

Selena Gomez starts singing out of Whit's portable speaker. I take the song as a sign. Lose You to Love Me is the universe smacking me in the ears with a reminder. I know I'll see Brooks tonight. I know I'll want to hold him and be everything for him that he isn't for me. I know it all.

I also know I finally like myself again and, while I can contribute a minute portion of that to my midnight yoga parties and new friendships back home, it's because Brooks is gone.

"Love this song," Lauren says, unaware how I'm analyzing every single lyric.

"It's totally about the Biebs," Whit says.

"So where's the rehearsal tonight?" I quickly ask, changing the subject.

"This real boujee place in a little shopping district by the marina," Trix says.

"Very formal. Black Tie." Meg chimes in.

"You brought that fancy dress, right? The one you showed me last week on video chat?" Trix asks.

"Yup. I got it," I say, nodding.

"Good. Looked like a solid 9.5," she says.

"Oh?" I laugh.

"Well, not a 10. Only I can look like a 10 tonight," Trix says.

"Is hair next? Might try to squeeze in a few laps before the conditioning masque," Meg says, eyeing the pool.

"Says the girl who I'm sure already ran 5 miles this morning." I make fun of her.

"Seven," Trix answers. "I'm the bride. I'm supposed to be the one in crazy shape."

"You already are," Meg and I say at the same time.

"You're gonna be like a perfect stupid mermaid walking down the aisle tomorrow," I say, matter of fact.

"Speaking of walking down the aisle tomorrow," Lauren begins.

Meg shoots her daggers.

"No, no it's fine," Trix says, sitting up and smiling at me brightly.

"What?" I ask, the suspense mounting.

"I just wanted to switch it up a bit, who walks with you -You know," Trix says.

"No, I don't know," I say, folding my arms across my chest. Oh, I know.

"It's not a huge deal. I was just going to switch you and Meg."

"But-" I start.

"It makes sense. You and Nate are MOH and best man. It's better this way," Meg agrees. "I'll keep Brooks in line. You just make sure Nate doesn't forget the rings."

"Guys," I sigh, annoyed. I'm not winning this one.

They stare at me, daring me to backtalk the bride.

"Fine. I get Nate."

"Glad that's settled," Whit springs up from her chaise. "Refills?"

We separate into groups to get the deep conditioning hair masque. I lay back, enjoying the scalp massage, as hints of lemongrass, sand, and citrus invade my nostrils. I can tell as they comb out the masque that my split ends are already a little more mended.

"Oh, and I have someone coming to do both your updos tomorrow," Trix says out of nowhere.

"Babe! You don't need to-"

"Stop it. You're my gems and my old maids, and you're both getting updos tomorrow."

"Fine," Meg and I say.

"I'm thinking side part, maybe," Meg says, sipping her drink.

"Yes, if this were 2009, I'd totally agree." I roll my eyes.

Lauren and Whit are who knows where. Trix, Meg, and I are sitting beside the pool, hair wraps chilling casually on our heads.

"It's almost 1 o'clock. Hope the guys aren't getting too drunk before dinner," Trix says.

"Hope they are," Meg laughs, clearly almost drunk herself.

"Might make it easier," I blurt out.

"You really haven't spoken to him since," Trix stops, looking down. "You know."

"I haven't." I shake my head.

"He seemed okay to me," Meg says, nonchalant. "I mean, as okay as Brooks can seem."

"I get it," I tell her. "I'm sure he's not showing anything at all."

I guess I'll see soon enough.

"Would you -Are you going to talk to him about how you left things?" Trix asks, head tilted.

"No." I stare at the ocean's horizon.

"But, babe," Meg says. "Don't you still care?"

"I don't care," I say for the 1000th time. "I mean it, guys. I wish he wasn't even here this weekend! I wish I didn't need to even see him! I don't love him. And won't ever again."

Everything just spills out at once.

"Course you love him," Meg scoffs.

"Not helping." Trix hisses at her behind my head.

"Seriously, I don't. I can walk down the aisle just fine without him," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Look, babe," Trix says, placing her empty mimosa down. I stare at her rosy-pink lips, stained from the puree.

"I'm looking."

"I love you. We–" She gestures to her and Meg both. "Love you. I mean, we're obsessed with you!"

"In a very healthy, friendship kinda way," Meg completes.

"But you do love him, Em. You still do. And that's okay," Trix says.

"I can't love someone who–" What words, Emmy?

"Broke you?" Trix says sadly, but damn truthfully.

"I say fuck it. You should love him -if not for him, for yourself then. Love the ones who broke you. Even if they meant to. Doesn't mean you can't still move on."

"To loving the ones who broke us," Trix says, frowning at her empty glass.

"Not the toast you want to make on your wedding weekend," I joke lamely.

Still, I drink and think.

Maybe Meg is right.

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