Page 43 of Vows in Sin

Could it be that I’m completely over my obsession? Made to get over Dame by the man whose name means ruler? Even if that is the case, I can no longer allow Reign to rule me.

He’ll surely ruin me.

I continue the voicemail. “Sorry for the long awkward pause but I’m back. And, I may have accidentally gotten into some sexcapades with a much, much older man. Anywhoo! Last we spoke, you were trying to use live goldfish as wedding favors. If you could use my help a little early, I’d love to come, well, now. As ASAP as possible!”

I know that if this were a live phone call, Cleopatra would correct me in her teacher’s voice, telling me I don’t need to say ‘as possible,’ as ‘ASAP’ already includes it.

I cut myself off before I sound any more desperate. Hopefully she responds soon. I’ll start packing as soon as the dryer stops.

I pull up the brutally honest video I made the other day, staring at my face as I tell the truth to the world. There are far too many ums and ahs. The video needs editing.

But where’s the honesty in that?

I post it. As is. No edits. No filters. Putting it up on every single platform.

I put all my social media notifications on pause. I’ll reach out and reply to comments from my well-meaning friends, but not today.

16

Seraphina

Twenty-four hours later, Cleopatra and I are sitting in deep blonde leather seats, our hair wrapped in warm, damp towels to help the deep conditioning treatment work its magic.

My curls are thirsty after that plane ride.

Our freshly steamed faces are slathered in a thick, moisturizing cream as we sip fancy champagne that tastes expensive. “You have to let me pay you back for this.”

Cleopatra waves away the idea with her freshly manicured pearl nails. “No way! You know I lucked into all this.”

“Well, thanks, friend.” I sink back with a sigh, the chair massaging the tension from my shoulders. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve needed this.”

“Me too! They don’t tell you how stressful planning a wedding is. I’ve had lots of help but nothing’s like having your best friend beside you.”

“Is there anything you need that we haven’t gone over yet?”

She thinks for a minute. “There’s this one thing that’s…never mind. I’ll tell you later.” She glances away.

Interesting. I don’t press.

I grab her hand and squeeze. “Why didn’t you call me? I could have come sooner.”

A lot sooner. She would have saved me from some unhealthy behaviors.

She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to take you away from the PalmVolt campaign.”

“Magda did that one all by herself.” We break down in fits of giggles at the mention of my disastrous non-existent job. “I wish I’d told the truth earlier. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she says. “You always share when you’re ready.”

She knows me so well. “It’s stuff like that that makes you the best. You always make me feel better.”

“Same, bestie. Same.” She waits a bit then asks a perilous question. “Can I ask you a question?”

I cringe. “Don’t you think that’s worse than just asking it? When someone asks me if they can ask me a question, I get this weird knot in my stomach.”

“Yeah me too. Sorry. But this is one of those big, loaded questions that needs a heads up.”

“Go on,” I say, wanting her to do the opposite.