June 2015 – Ava’s Big Day
The wedding preparations further escalated our mutual sisterly irritation to deep-rooted resentment.
There was serious relief on my part when the magical event of Ava Andreadis and Kevin Welch request the pleasure of your company finally arrived.
It was almost over and nothing was going to wipe the sarcastic smirk off my face.
I stood on the stage beside her bitchy friends after several months of wasted wit and far too much alcohol as my undoubtedly attractive sister shoved her bouquet at me and turned to face her fiancé.
It was hilarious watching a man you once dated, had sex with, and turned down for marriage getting hitched to your raging bitch of a sister.
Yeah, I might have neglected to mention one of the biggest reasons for the severe animosity between Ava and me.
Fucked up, am I right?
Since it was common knowledge that Kevin proposed to me the year before on Thanksgiving and then to Ava on Christmas Eve, everyone expected me to play the hurt ex-girlfriend.
No way was I going out like that.
I’d rather torture them while I held back my inner laughter and get a sympathy pass from anyone who might witness said torture.
A week after the awkward ass Thanksgiving celebration with our family, Ava asked to stay with me for a few weeks while Mom had some renovation done to the house.
She was melodramatic about fumes and dust.
Internally rolling my eyes and quietly urging my mom to hurry the fuck up with her kitchen redesign, I let her.
Returning from a short business trip, I caught my (ick) boyfriend and little sister fucking in my bedroom, in my bed, as if they’d done it a dozen times.
Livid, I threw them out in a way that still made me giggle, immediately replaced everything in my bedroom they might have touched, and considered them both dead to me.
The day before our entire family descended on our house for Christmas dinner, Ava announced their plan to marry.
Knowing how my mom thinks, she wanted to force us to interact before the dead body of our relationship started to rot.
Strangely, I didn’t care much about Kevin.
He proposed on a holiday with most of my family in attendance in the hopes the pressure would influence me to say yes.
He miscalculated. He just managed to humiliate himself.
Confident in my oh hell no choice and without a single regret, I told him I’d understand if he wanted to break up. He refused.
A couple of weeks later, he sure showed me.
The months since exposed me to a side of Kevin I suspected but ignored in the seven months we dated.
I’m busy and have bigger shit to deal with than the man-child I took with me to business functions and occasionally talked through giving me orgasms.
I couldn’t imagine being married to him.
For a woman like me, he was the worst. When you really boiled it down, he was the male version of Ava.
I dodged a fucking bullet there, I thought to myself for the hundredth time.
Ava was the prettiest Bridezilla ever and I knew we wouldn’t talk often, if ever, after today.
I’d still be forced to see her at family gatherings and holidays but I wasn’t going to let that get me down.
She was going on her honeymoon and soon (very soon), I’d be free of her and her new husband’s clusterfuck of a life.
They were moving into a townhouse Kevin’s mom bought them after the extravagant wedding my mom made possible. Losers, both of them.
So, here we are.
Me holding Ava’s fucking bouquet and handing her the ring she planned to put on Kevin’s finger.
I derived some sick satisfaction from the fact that he proposed to my sister with the same ring he tried to give me. Chuckles galore and I didn’t care if that made me a bad person.
It had already been a long day and I was fucking bored.
Emitting a put-upon sigh, my eyes roamed the old mansion and I wished I’d thought to stick gum in my mouth before the festivities started.
I can crack it without anyone even knowing I’m chewing it. It would have echoed spectacularly with the high ceilings.
It drives Ava nuts, which would have been a huge bonus.
My wandering gaze settled on the man holding my same position a dozen feet away. Kevin’s older brother Jack.
The groom and groomsmen waited at the front of the area set up for the wedding when the bridesmaids assembled.
I’d never had a chance to meet the best man before but heard tons of lies about him from my ex-asshole.
I mean my almost bro-in-law. Duh.
Jack was a successful photojournalist who traveled the world for the sole purpose of making his younger brother look like a jealous loser. (No, seriously. That’s what Kevin thinks.)
I took him in with a brief once-over and pronounced him delectable. Shaggy blonde hair, tall and lean, and I-spend-lots-of-time-outside rugged.
I was positive Ava specifically had the men and women enter separately so I wouldn’t be seen on the hottie’s arm.
Spiteful bitch.
Seeing the expression of disgust and boredom I wore reflected on his face caused a tiny snort of amusement before I could rein it in. As if I would have.
His gray eyes met mine and we shared a moment of silent mirth. Then he winked.
I pressed my lips together after my unchecked gasp of laughter and the bride and groom’s heads turned to glare at me. Rolling my eyes, I sucked my teeth at them for good measure.
For my mother, I regained my composure and fixed my stare on the intricate design of the stained-glass window directly behind the raised dais.
The entire situation was absurd and my stomach cramped from holding back raucous laughter trying to claw its way out of my body.
I focused on Mom. She’d be disappointed in me if I made a scene during their vows, damn it. There was a chance she’d cry. Ugh, I never wanted to make her cry.
With inhuman effort, I faked some decorum and remembered that soon I could pony up to the nearest open bar and get my good time on. The minutes ticked by and I zoned out.
“By the power invested in me…”
Fucking finally!
“I now pronounce you…”
Blah, blah, blah. Time to get the hell out of here.
My sister glanced smugly in my direction and I tossed her the monstrosity she insisted on for her bouquet. Fumbling, she barely caught it and opened her mouth to shriek at me. Managing to snap her lips shut just in time, she grimaced.
Inside, I died.
Ava wouldn’t want to give away the secret shrew surprise to her new hubby too early in the game.
I cocked my hip in the bright yellow harlot gown my dear, dear sister chose for me and dropped my hand on it.
She huffed, put her hand through Kevin’s arm, and descended the stage at his side with her nose stuck in the air.
It was the ideal chance to escape. I ignored everyone else and banked to the right while the rest of the crowd moved down the center.
I fully intended to be one of the first ten people in line for booze because I’d fucking earned that shit. Exit ahead, cool refreshment waiting for me on the other side.
Steps away from liquid salvation, a tight grip on my bare upper arm brought verbal destruction rising fast and furious to my tongue. I was yanked around roughly and...
Fuck me running.