Page 35 of Unhitched

“What do you mean? You’ve never broken up with someone?”

“No.” I can feel her gaze on me, waiting for more. “My only other serious relationship was in high school. We both just agreed to break up when we went to different colleges.”

“Oh.”

I know Matt’s version of Mya’s dating life–or at least the clipped ‘attack a stranger who broke up your Valentine’s Day dinner and is likely now fucking your ex-girlfriend’ footnotes version–so maybe I should give her a chance to share her side of it. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How did you break up with your exes? ”

She’s silent. I glance over to see her face fallen, and she picks at the hem of her dress, making it slide further up her thighs. I debate asking again, but she eventually responds.

“Umm. The first guy… I told him I needed to move back in with my parents' friends to help them out. He said he didn’t want to go backward in our relationship so if I left, then we’d break up.”

“Did they actually need your help?”

I catch her shaking her head out of my periphery.

“So you lied?”

“I shouldn’t be with someone who wouldn’t support me trying to help a friend.”

“But they didn’t need your help.”

“That’s not the point, Kace.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“Anyway. The guy after him… I didn’t have room to work at our place. So I would take my projects to the library.”

“You don’t have room at my place, but you make it work,” I counter.

She sighs. “He didn’t want me to work there.

He wasn’t a bad guy–just not for me. I felt bad, and I probably could have made it work, but at what cost?

It felt like the blame should be put on me for not compromising on my home/life balance, so I withdrew until he decided there was no point in us being together if we were never ‘together.’ That way it was my fault we broke up instead of me blaming him for not caring about my work. ”

That almost makes sense. But it’s still a million times more complicated than it needed to be.

“Then Matt. Well, you were there for that.”

“And if I hadn’t been?”

She visibly cringes. “At this point, I’d probably still be with him.”

“What does that mean?” I contemplate telling her about my run-in with her ex, but I can’t imagine it going over well.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I want to focus on our job,” she tells me, and with how many times I’ve redirected her questions, I can’t exactly push–despite my curiosity.

Note to self: don’t try to extract reasoning from Mya.

She makes no fucking sense to me. Her logic is weak at best, yet there’s some level of good intention. I think. Either way, she doesn’t handle serious things well. Or at least, not in any responsible or mature manner. “How did you get this job anyway?”

“Allison’s mom is friends with Chloe’s mom. Chloe gave her my number, thinking I might be able to help.”

“How did you get Olivia’s job?”

She doesn’t respond right away, and I look over in time to catch her rolling her lips.

“How?” I repeat.

“I don’t want you to think girls are any more psycho than you already do,” she whispers.

“Just tell me.”

“She overheard my conversation with Chloe when we were at that food truck park. She found me through the bar’s Instagram when I tagged them.”

“Not psycho at all.” I shoot her a sideways glance before my eyes are back on the road. I have to admit, women can find out a terrifying amount of information from the internet. They probably make better hackers than men.

She shrugs. “Unhitched fell into my lap. I might as well take advantage of it.”

My brows furrow. “Unhitched?”

“Yeah. The name was Chloe’s idea because I’m Will Smith in Hitch –except in reverse.”

Huh. That’s pretty clever.

“Anyway…” She adjusts the straps of her dress. “Allison’s mom thinks if someone else stands up to object at the ceremony, it can create the tension needed to force the break without making anyone from either side angry at one of them. ”

“Is this really the best plan she could come up with?”

“I think there are pros and cons of every option that helps them move on, and she believes this one is the best.”

“And when they ask why you don’t want the couple to get married?”

“I thought about pretending to be in love with one of them, but I don’t want to make either person look like a cheater.” I’m not sure why that gives me some reassurance about her. “I also thought about being their marriage counselor, but that would be a major invasion of privacy.”

I shrug. “I mean you’re not actually their therapist.”

“I know, but what if someone questions that authenticity?” She’s talking like she did think this through. Fuck, she’s confusing.

“True.” I flick on my blinker before turning right toward the waterfront wedding venue. “So what did you land on?”

“Concerned friend who finally stopped biting her tongue.”

“Do you really think this is going to work?”

“Confidence is half the battle, Levitt. Have a little faith in me.” She grins. “But also, have the getaway car ready.”

“Nothing good starts with that.” I smirk, pulling into a parking spot in the lot designated for wedding guests.

She reaches for the door handle but pauses, looking over at me with worry flooding her eyes. “This is sad, though. Right?”

I stare back, unsure of the right answer. It’s fucked that people settle for a life they don’t want, but it’s also terrifying that things can just not work out after so long.

“I have so many questions,” she whispers, pulling her hand back to her lap. “I wish I knew the answers to them before I did this.”

I pull the key from the ignition and turn toward her. “Like what?”

“Do you think they’ll feel like they wasted a lot of their life being with the wrong person? ”

“I couldn’t tell you. Depends if they think everything happens for a reason.”

Her eyes flicker over my face, like she’s debating whether to ask me what she wants to, and I know what her question will be right before the words spill from her lips. “Do you feel like you wasted your life being with the wrong person for too long?”

My grip tightens around my keys, my thoughts spinning around the silence. It’s a loaded question, but now that I’ve had some space from the breakup, I know my answer. “I wouldn’t be in Vancouver if it weren’t for Ruby. And I love it here.”

“Is that what happened with you and Ruby? You fell out of love?”

Taking a breath, I divert my gaze away from her. “Maybe it is. Or maybe we were just broken.”

“Or maybe it just happens sometimes,” she whispers.

I sigh. “Maybe.”

“Kace?”

I run my thumb across the blade of my key. “Yeah?”

She waits for me to look at her, and when I do, she says, “Thank you for being here with me.”

“I wouldn’t let you come alone.”

“I know it’s just because it’s a job that you felt obligated to be a part of, but–”

“It’s because we’re friends.”

“You consider us friends?” Her eyes widen with hope.

“I do.”

She grins. “At least someone is saying those words today.”

I laugh because that was fucking funny, and tension that seems to always be present lately dissipates a bit. Mya’s face brightens like my reaction is contagious, and for a weighted moment, our eyes lock, our smiles mirrored, and I have the urge to kiss her.

Before I can do something I’d regret, she shakes her head like she’s clearing a thought and pulls on the door handle .

Forcing my own thoughts to the back of my mind, I open my door. “Hold up,” I say and walk around the front of my truck to open the door for Mya, reaching my hand out for hers.

“Ready to ruin a wedding?” she asks, slipping her palm into mine. I’m tempted to hold on, but as soon as her feet are firmly on the ground, I release her.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”