Page 110 of Deliverance

She hands me a white card and I feel my smile disappear. I can’t lie that I wished it was another letter from her. I’m still waiting for her to write me back. Then again, we never hand them off to each other, typically we slide them under each other’s doors. It’s a little less confrontational, more anonymous. I know it gives me the comfort I need to write anything and everything I want on that page without any fear of judgment. Not like Maggie would ever judge me about anything. I’m convinced she’s the only person in the world who truly cares for who I am to my core. Still, I haven’t shared everything with her, so maybe I’m speaking too soon.

Flipping over the card, I can’t help but feel shocked.

You are cordially invited to the union of Skyla Putnam to Asher Putnam, Liam Walcott, Ronan Putnam, Vincent Griggs, and Wesley Preston.

They’re getting married? Or I guess unioned? Is that a thing? Apparently so, or at least Asher has deemed it so. Why am I invited, though?

“Skyla wanted me to make sure that got to you,” Maggie says.

I give her a disbelieving look, and she laughs, nodding.

“I gotta be honest, I’m surprised, too. I think if you took the time to get to know her, you’d see what a ridiculously big heart she has, though.”

Big enough for five men, apparently.

Fuck, okay. I know that was bitchy. I’m working on it.

“It’s this Saturday. Kind of last minute, but if you’re not busy…?” Maggie shrugs.

I nod. “I’ll think about it.”

Maggie looks like she’s going to step away when she pauses.

“That invitation is just for you, no plus one.”

“Is that you telling me or Skyla?” I question.

A look of want tinged with sadness enters her eyes as she gives me a soft smile.

“Definitely me.”

I can’t help but smile at that.

“Well, if I can’t bring a date, then you can’t e?—”

“Baby!” Maryia says as she comes out of nowhere, pressing a kiss to Maggie’s cheek before slipping her arm around her waist. “Oh, hi, Bridgette. I didn’t see you there.”

Sure you didn’t, you stupid cunt.

I dislike Maryia for a lot more reasons other than her being with Maggie. For example, she’s a world class bitch, and I should know. She rivals me. The only difference is instead of owning it, she hides it behind this sugary sweet exterior that I’m not sure Maggie can even see through. It’s all an act, a mask. She comes across all sweet and loving but really, she’s just a possessive, controlling asshole. Good. She should be possessive. If she lets her guard down for even a second, I’m stealing what’s always been mine, and she won’t be able to do a goddamn thing about it.

I wonder how smug she’d be if she knew barely two weeks ago, I was eating her girlfriend’s cunt while she was devouring my pussy like I’m the best thing she’s ever tasted. I’d never hurt Maggie like that, but god, the satisfaction I’d get from dropping that bombshell on her is unparalleled.

Maryia’s eyes move down to the invitation in my hand, her eyebrows shooting up to her mousy brown rat’s nest excuse of hair.

“Wow, so you’re coming?”

Well, to be honest, I hadn’t planned on it. Why on earth would I want to go to a wedding union thing between the guy I was obsessed with for a majority of my life to a girl I bullied, while the girl I’m hopelessly in love with stands by her side with her girlfriend? Pass. The way Maryia’s irritation is practically seeping through her skin, however, has me changing my mind.

“Yeah, I think I am. Thank you, and tell Skyla I said thank you.”

Maggie nods, her eyes flicking between me and Maryia uneasily. We all stand there awkwardly for several seconds before Maryia practically yanks Maggie away, lacing their hands together as they walk towards the parking lot.

My self-satisfied smile at pissing Maryia off slips away quickly as I watch them go. She doesn’t even deserve Maggie. Neither do I, but she sure as hell doesn’t. I hope Maggie realizes that. I hope she knows that if things were different, if I could go back…they’d be different.

Chapter Forty

Maggie