Page 29

Lola

“Stop eating all the brownies! I need some to bring to Jalen and Ivy.”

Dalton scoffs from the other end of the kitchen island with half a brownie hanging out of his mouth.

When I got back from Jalen’s game a couple of days ago I had that conversation with Dalton.

He’s back to being the attentive boyfriend I’d gotten used to, except he isn’t happy I’m missing his games this weekend.

“I don’t get why you have to go to New York,” he whines. It’s childish and like I would with a two-year-old I explain why for the hundredth time.

“Well, two of my best friends got engaged and I was asked to be her maid of honor,” I’m stern, annoyed that I have to go over this with him again.

“I’m sorry I’m missing your games this weekend, but I’ll be at the ones the week after Halloween. I promise.”

I’m half seated in his laps when he lifts me up and places me in the seat next to him.

“Whatever, I have to go. I have practice.” He grabs a rainbow cookie before he leans in and kisses me.

“I’ll miss you, Lo. I really wish you didn’t have to ride down with Byron.”

That right there is the bigger issue.

I ignore the childish jab. I made it clear when we spoke earlier in the week that I’m done listening to his gripes about my friendship with his childhood rivals.

Especially when he can’t give me a straight answer on why he hates him so much beyond the excuse they always just have, which I inform him every time is very juvenile.

His frosty attitude is dampening this perfect fall day. I decide to be the bigger person and walk him out to his car anyways.

I’m celebrating my friend who, a year ago, was so anti-relationship she wouldn’t even give her future fiance a second glance.

“Be smart this weekend, Lo.” He leans down and I turn my head so my cheek is the only place he can press his lips too.

I keep a smile on my face as I wave goodbye. Once Dalton is far enough down the block that he can’t see me, I cover my face and let out the most cathartic scream.

“I just don’t know how many more times I can have this damn argument,” I mumble to myself as I head back to the kitchen to finish my baking.

My Kitchen-Aid mixer is flipped on, the ingredients waiting to become chocolate chip cookies. I control my breathing as the dough forms.

Dalton and I had a picture-perfect relationship.

He was kind and attentive. Now it’s all endless digs about my friendship with the guys.

I don’t know if it’s because hockey season has started, and the rivalry is amped up or if this is just normal.

Dalton knows how important those relationships are to me, especially with the strained relationship I have with most of my family.

The timer on the oven dings, and when I notice the time, I realize that I have an hour before I have to pick up Byron.

I start plating my desserts and bring them to the car.

When I come back out from grabbing my bags for the weekend and the engagement gift—pictures I’ve taken of Jalen and Ivy that I had blown up and framed– Byron is standing in my driveway.

Bags in hand and a look I can’t quite make out on his face.

“I thought I was coming to get you?”

Don’t tell Dalton, but just seeing his face brightens my mood.

“Umm, I have to tell you something,” his face grows serious, and I swear the weather cools ten degrees.

“I really don’t want to show you this, but I’d rather be the one to show you than you being blindsided when we get to New York.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” I joke, ignoring the knot taking over my gut.

His hand is shaking when he hands me his phone. A video is pulled up. I press play, and the black screen fills with a familiar bedroom.

I can barely hear the aggressive groans and sounds of bodies slapping against each other over the thumping of my heart. I can’t take my eyes off the low-budget production.

“Why did you show me this? I don’t want to watch–”

“Yes, Dalton! God, Yes!!”

It’s then that I recognize those broad shoulders.

I’m watching my boyfriend have sex.