Page 116 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

“As tempting as seeing a train wreck is, I’m still hungry.”

“Reception only it is,” he picks up his menu.

Later, they enter the reception and find people mingling and talking. Bridget listens and hears folks talking shit about the ceremony.

“That was the sorriest wedding I have ever been to.”

“Who are you telling? There was barely anyone there.”

She and Silas take a seat at their assigned table to find they’re the only ones seated.

Silas pulls her closer to him and kisses her forehead, and she lays her head on his shoulder, scratching his beard.

One woman from the bar approaches them, lavender dimples.

“I thought that was you at the bar.” She smiles. “You’re Lamar’s ex-wife, right? The author.”

“Yes, that’s me. Hi, I’m Bridget.”

“I’m Taylor.” She shakes Bridget’s hand. “Where were you during the ceremony?”

Well, there goes my plan.

The plan was to act like they slipped in and sat in the back, but from the looks of things, that wouldn’t be believable.

“We were hungry after a long drive and decided to attend the reception instead,” Bridget explains.

“You didn’t miss anything. It was short and boring. Now that you’re here, things might get interesting.”

The other women from Justine’s friend group approach Bridget and Silas. The lady in red, who Bridget learns is named Kiki, takes a picture with her. Turns out, she’s a fan of her books. A few other people come by. Everyone is so focused on the drama, they don’t notice that Lamar and Justine have arrived and have entered as Mr. and Mrs. Lamar Nelson.

The DJ raises his voice to get everyone's attention. “Ahem! I said, now entering as husband and wife, Mr. Lamar and Mrs. Justine Nelson.”

Justine and Lamar enter holding hands and are all smiles. Bridget can tell it’s not real, at least not on Lamar’s part. He gave Bridget that vacant smile far too many times to count. She can’t imagine it’s real on Justine’s part either. Not after everything she’s heard. They take their seats at the head of the table, and the DJ plays a mix of catchy dance songs. No one hits the dance floor. No one. Finally, he plays a slow song for Justine and Lamar to dance to. Most people are looking at their phones instead of thehappycouple.

Bridget’s phone buzzes. It’s Lyric.

Lyric

Go to Tik Tok and look up #LamarNelsonweddingfiasco.

Bridget does, and it turns out a guest made a Tik-Tok to share the tea. The Tik-Tok video is titled “How to make a nigga regret leaving a bad bitch.”

“Hey, yall. So, I’m at this tired-ass wedding, but the bride and groom aren’t what’s important. The groom’s ex-wife is. She came into the reception, and y’all, she’s a gorgeous, celebrated author. And her date? Yes, honey. She brought a date, and he is fine as fuck. This is textbook best revenge ever. Looking good and have a fine man on your arm to make your ex look like a fool. Ms. Bridget, chef’s kiss. I love it, and I will be buying your book—and I’m not even into fantasy.”

The video has gotten fifteen thousand views so far, and the number is climbing. Comments range from congratulating Bridget on her pettiness to incel losers calling her out. She shows the video to Silas.

He pulls her close and kisses her forehead. “Mission accomplished.”

“I have to use the ladies’ room. Be right back.”

Before she can get up, Silas pulls her toward him and kisses her.

Bridget’s mouth is inches away from his, “Behave. Remember, we promised Danielle we wouldn’t get arrested, and from the way Lamar’s looking at you, y’all gonna fight.”

Silas playfully rolls his eyes. “Baby, I’m from the Chi. I just have to punch that nigga once.”

Bridget leans her forehead against his then kisses him before heading to the bathroom.