Chapter 3

I wake up hungover to the sound of my phone going off over and over.

"Wren, what did the hotel say? Is the wedding still on or not?"

"Wren, your Uncle Ted wants to know if he should still come!"

"You little brat, how could you just call off your wedding like that? Get home and explain yourself!"

My head is splitting.

I sit in bed for a long time before it hits me. Last night wasn't a dream.

The wedding I've waited seven years for is gone, all because of a candy bet.

I rub my temples and open my messages.

99+ unread messages.

I tap on Delphine's voice note.

"Wren... I'm not taking back anything I said last night. Get ready."

Below it is a message from Callum.

"There's an apple washed and sliced on the counter. Eat it. It'll help. And don't forget what you promised. A bet's a bet."

Reid's chat is empty.

Someone posted a group photo from last night. Caption: Happy birthday, party never ends.

The photo has a warm filter. Everyone is smiling. I'm standing in front of the cake, candlelight on my face, looking genuinely happy.

Someone commented, When's the wedding, though?

The person who posted it replied, lol, not telling!

I take a deep breath and call Reid.

"Wren?"

In the background, I hear Delphine.

"Reid, my head hurts so bad..."

Reid doesn't wait for me to speak.

"Can you tell my parents? And can you handle the hotel cancellation while you're at it? I'll cover the fee."

"I can't get away right now. Delphine's thrown up a few times, and her stomach's still bothering her. I'll take her to the hospital to get an IV."

Not a single word of apology.

He just assumes, like he has for the past seven years, that I'll take care of it, that I'll go along with every decision he makes without question.

"Fine."

I say it softly and hang up.

I pull an empty cardboard box out of the closet and start packing up everything that has anything to do with Reid.

The scrapbook he stayed up late making for me back in college.

A pressed rose petal is still tucked between the pages from junior year. I touch it, and it crumbles into red dust.

The first pair of mugs we made together.

R&W is scratched into the bottom of mine in his crooked handwriting, faded now.

And then the emerald bracelet.

Senior year. A group trip to a big storage-unit auction.

I emptied my checking account and gave Reid every dollar I had.

Reid outbid everyone else for the unit tucked away in the far corner. No one else even wanted it.

The padlock was rusty, and the door was dented.

He cut the lock and rolled the door up. Inside was exactly what it had looked like from the doorway: broken furniture, water-damaged boxes, and a stained mattress against the back wall.

The whole crew groaned.

Reid didn't say a word. He stepped inside and started digging.

An hour in, at the very back, buried under a stack of old estate papers, he pulled out a small velvet pouch. The original owner had died decades ago, and no one in the family knew what was inside.

He opened the pouch. Inside were emeralds. Uncut. At least, they looked real.

Then Reid turned to me and lifted me off the ground.

He kissed me right there in the doorway of the unit.

"Wren, the emerald is worth a fortune. I had the biggest one set into a bracelet for you. One of a kind. There's nothing else like it."

"Real gems last forever. So do we."

Seven years. Twenty-five hundred nights.

I thought we'd already won.

I never thought he'd bet our future.

I drop everything into the box, one piece at a time.

Then I drag the box downstairs.

The woman down the street who buys scrap and secondhand stuff lets out a small gasp.

"Sweetheart, are you sure? All this stuff is beautiful!"

I smile at her.

"I'm sure."

"I don't want any of it. You can have it all."

She thanks me over and over as she takes the box.

"Oh, and this too."

I slip the engagement ring off my finger and drop it in with the rest.

She freezes, staring at me like she can't believe her eyes.

...

I hail a cab and go to the hotel.

The manager sees me walking alone.

"Ms. Halloway. You came by yourself?"

I answer smoothly.

"My fiancé is busy telling everyone that we've changed the date."

His face lights up with relief.

"Oh! I thought you were canceling! What day are we moving it to? I'll get it done right away."

"The day after tomorrow. Thank you."

Walking out of the hotel, I finally feel like I can breathe again.

Seven years.

The dream is over.

I'm awake.