“I see,” she answered as a dull numbness took over.
She stared at the person she’d been dating for the better part of two years. This should have stung. This betrayal should have cut right through her heart. But all she could think about was how Garrett’s absence at the wedding would screw up her seating arrangement.
“I need to text Lori,” she said, reaching for her phone.
He let out an incredulous bark of a laugh. “You catch your boyfriend in bed with another woman, and all you can say is that you need to call your sister? I guess it’s fitting. That is what it’s like dating you.”
She narrowed her gaze. “What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “It’s always your sister. Harvard law. Hired on at a prestigious firm. Dating the man of her dreams. I feel like I know more about her than I do about you. That’s probably why…”
“Why what? You might as well say it. That little afternoon delight session I walked in on sealed the deal that it’s over between us,” she replied, forcing her tone to remain even.
Garrett ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Maybe that’s why you never go after what you want. Maybe that’s why you’re still a bakery assistant. You’re so busy thinking about Lori and butting into her life that you don’t have a life of your own.”
The admission might have hurt if she hadn’t heard it before.
A muscle ticked in her jaw. “I have a perfectly fine life. Well, I did until I walked in on my boyfriend cheating on me.”
“You know we’ve been over long before today. Every time I’ve seen you over the last few months, all you talk about is your sister’s wedding. I want a girlfriend, not some woman fixated on someone else’s life.”
How dare he?
She took a step forward. “This wedding is important. Lori and I are recreating the wedding our parents had thirty years ago. It’s not something you can hand off to an event planner. I need to be this involved. If you’d cared about me, you would have understood that.”
The guilt in Garrett’s eyes dissolved into pity. “It’s not your wedding, Bridget.”
A thread of longing twisted around her heart—a feeling she’d grown used to disregarding.
“I know that,” she answered, now the one looking away.
“Do you? Or have you been hiding behind this maternal guise of caring for your sister to shield yourself from anyone who might care for you or stop you from grasping at any opportunity that came your way? You’re the most stifled, stuck person I know. I feel sorry for you,” he said, looking at her as if she were the last puppy left at the pound.
The thread tightened its grip on her heart, twisting and tormenting. But she’d become a pro at dismissing its selfish pleas.
“Is this your way of blaming me for the lingerie-clad woman in your bed?” she asked, unwilling to let his words shake her resolve.
“Bridget, you’re a nice girl, but…”
You’re a nice girl, but…
She didn’t have to listen to what came after those five words because she’d heard them before, littered in the trail of her past relationships. And what did it matter anyway? Garrett, like all the rest, had no sense of duty. He’d never been tasked with ensuring another’s happiness. He’d never made a solemn promise to put another person before himself.
Grandma Dasher had entrusted her sister’s happiness and wellbeing to her. If someone couldn’t understand that, then that person didn’t understand her.
“I’m sorry, Bridget. I didn’t want it to end like this,” he said, his words floating in the air as she turned and headed for the bus stop.
No job. No boyfriend.
But she hadn’t lost everything. She stared down at her phone, then clicked the text icon.
Birdie: Hey, little sis. I caught Garrett in bed with another woman. But don’t worry about me. I’m okay. He was like all the rest. I’m relieved, actually. Now, I won’t have anyone to distract me from making sure the best man is on his best behavior.
Within seconds, three flashing dots appeared, signaling her sister’s reply.
Lori: I’m sorry about Garrett, Birdie. It’s his loss—you know that. I love you!
Bridget gathered her resolve. She’d figure out her life. She’d find another job—somewhere.
But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. No, she’d made a promise—a promise more important than a crummy job or a philandering boyfriend.
Only one thing mattered, and that was making sure Lori’s wedding went