Stand and Defend (Lakes Hockey Series Book 4)

The flight home is exhausting. All I want to do is pass out and pretend tonight never happened. My mind won’t stop replaying the expression on Camden’s face when he told me. His eyes were so full of pity. That man is basically a stranger and was the only one with the decency not to lie to me. I saw the way the other girls looked at me when I got the news. It’s like they already knew. How humiliating.

Normally, I eat when I’m stressed. This time, I’ve lost my appetite altogether. Funny how I’ve been starving myself for weeks for that stupid fucking dress. Shit, Bryan, you shoulda told me you were fucking my best friend back then, this diet would have been a breeze! I’m done with that. No more skipping my iced mochas, no more salads, and sayonara to those revolting protein shakes that taste like chocolate Pepto Bismol.

The seatbelt light dings, and I slide open the window shade. The Twin Cities come into view, and it feels good to be back. But where do I go? I want to talk to my best friend about it. I want to cry to her and scream about him.

They did this. They did this together.

The signs were there—the random bobby pins in his car, the work trips—but to sleep with my best friend? The woman who was supposed to be my maid of honor at our goddamn wedding? Gotta say, he caught me off guard with that one.

I should’ve known his jealousy stemmed from a guilty conscience. And how could she? And for how long? Has it been happening all along right under my nose? It really is lonely at the top. If I can’t trust my best friend or fiancé, who’s left?

I’m such a fucking idiot.

The plane lands with a gentle bounce, and I turn on my phone to twenty-some missed calls from Bryan. Ten from Veronica. I call my mom to pick me up from the airport. She’s not happy about the 4:00 a.m. phone call, but thankfully, she asks no questions. I don’t know how to tell her my fiancé, the one she and Dad love so much, betrayed me and I fell for it.

I stand outside near the charter jet hangar, still in my white bachelorette dress. The one Veronica helped me pick out. The nightclub feels like it was days ago, not hours. The Vegas strip is a lot warmer at night than the forty-degrees in Minneapolis. I could wait inside, but I welcome the numbing temperatures; I’d rather not feel.Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

As soon as Mom’s car arrives, I climb into the passenger seat.

“Where’s Bryan? Where’s your stuff?”

“It’s just me, Mom.”

“I don’t understand.” She gawks at me.

“Bryan . . . Bryan was caught with Veronica. In our hotel room.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”

As soon as I hear the softness in her voice, I break into tears. “I hate them. I hate them both so much! How could they?”

“I’ll have your father take care of this.”

She pulls me into her arms, and I tremble, letting out all the feelings.

When I’m empty, I detach from our hug and wipe the remaining tears from my face. “There was so much time and money put into this wedding. I’m sorry, Mom.” She nods solemnly and puts the Rolls in gear to head toward the private airport’s exit.

We sit in silence as she merges onto the highway.

“I don’t think we should do anything rash.”

My head snaps to face her.

“He slept with my best friend,” I say slowly. Not do anything rash? Like canceling our engagement?

Mom exhales, and I feel like there’s some devil’s advocate bullshit about to spew from her lips. Please, not now. Read the room—or car, whatever.

“You know, sometimes accidents like this happen. It’s not fair, it hurts, but men are idiots and occasionally forget to think. You and Bryan have been together for so long, do you really think it’s worth throwing away your relationship?”

I stare at her in horror. “What?!”

The orange streetlights along the highway maintain a steady strobe of light inside the car, and I wish I could see her face clearer.

“Jordana, there are relationship counselors that deal with this kind of thing every day.”

“Mom! You can’t be serious!”

“Look, you’re not even married yet. He’s probably trying to get it out of his system before the vows.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “I can’t believe you’re taking his side,” I whisper.

“I am not taking his side! What he did was wrong! I’m simply trying to help make sense of it. That’s all.”

My hands are shaking. “What they did is unforgivable.”

“We’ll stop by your place, and you can pack a bag. All I’m saying is that you should take some time to think it over, after you get some sleep. You can stay with us for now, but we’re heading to Monaco in a few days. Your father will talk to the Davenports and get this all straightened out. It’s gonna be okay.”

There’s nothing to straighten out. I come from a reserved family, and a broken engagement will stir rumors. Is that what she’s worried about? Who cares! On top of that, she doesn’t even seem surprised, she’s more concerned with how to get the train back on the rails. It’s like I’m stuck in a nightmare and unable to wake up.

If I screamed, would anyone even hear me?

After I gather things from the condo and return to my parents’ house, I see the real best friend that would never betray me.

“Chicken Salad!” My big fluffy Alaskan Shepherd mix gallops into my arms and knocks me down. She whines and hops about, trampling me, and I wrap my arms around her big furry neck. I missed my dog so much. We sit up, and she trots in place before rolling onto her back so I can rub her belly.

“Someone’s happy to see you.” My mom chuckles. Bryan is allergic to dogs, so I couldn’t take Chicken Salad with us when we moved in together, and it broke my heart. I still come back to visit her often, but it’s not enough.

“Come on, pup. Let’s go to bed.” I stand, pick up my things, and head up to one of the guest bedrooms. I take off the couture dress and pull my soft oversized college hoodie over my head—my emotional support sweatshirt.

My cheeks itch with dry tears. After I wash them and the makeup away, I’m ready to sleep. Hopefully, for days. The sun is peeking over the horizon when I draw the blackout blinds to the room. After wiggling under the covers, I realize how tired my body and mind are. I slap the top of the mattress, and Chicken Salad bounds up on the bed beside me.

She circles a few times, then drops down so she’s wedged against my side and lets out a deep exhale. We are reunited again, and all is right in her world. Mine is falling apart. I drape an arm over her warm back and haul her closer as a lump forms in my throat, aching like it does right before I cry.