Forget Me Not

by Julie Soto

“My mom has been married sixteen times.”

holy shit lol

Jake, I am now paying you two hundred dollars because you’re going to the gas station on Howe. You are going to load everything into my car—I mean everything; you will strap boxes to the top if you have to—and then go straight to the venue and help catering get back on schedule. Got it?” Jake starts to sputter again, and I say, “Or you’re not getting paid at all. Because currently you’re getting in my way.”

c-nty

I think this is where I’ll die. I think I’ll just lie down and wait for death.

lol

I’m suspicious again if Whitney did this on purpose, like he’s implying.

im this /-/ close to DNFing because this girl is an idiot

I swallow down this ache in my throat, agreeing with them that it’s time to go. I feel empty. I wish I’d never known.

feel that, sister

I want to love what you love, even if it’s extinct.

ahhhhhhh!

She pulls out her calendar. “Where’s the wedding?” “The Four Seasons.” “The hotel? Or Total Landscaping?”

ope

Hesitantly, Jackie says, “I would be more than happy with something like this.” She puts both of their sample bouquets together, showing off how good they look. “But I won’t be,” Hazel says bluntly. I see Jackie’s jaw snap shut, and Bea’s fingers itch to film this.

this is so fucking stupid

They’re getting along like gasoline and a box of matches, and I’m over here sweating.

ope love that line

Especially when she leans forward and kisses me, tossing her phone away and running her hands over the kadupul tattoo. Her lips follow, curving over to kiss my inked shoulder blade. She’s done this dozens of times now, almost as if she has to say good night to each of them. She presses soft lips against my thigh and my calf, her tongue traces the cry violet at my ribs. She sucks at the two on my arms, and then she finally moves down the bed to where I’m hard again. Her mouth moves over me, and I’m lost to it all. Her tongue savors me, and my hands slide into her hair.

honestly she is such a fucking asshole. and she is stupid.

“She’s um…My mother has been married sixteen times.” I laugh, like I always do when I say it. “You could say she loves weddings as much as me!” “So, that’s why you became a wedding planner?” “Yes, you could say that.” My smile feels waxy and fake. Bea gestures for me to rephrase. “I guess that’s why I became a wedding planner.” Bea’s eyes almost look wolf-like, yellow between the forest trees, prowling. I can feel myself start to sweat. “How was that for you? Growing up like that? Do you think it’s had any effect on your personal life?”

she is such a dumbass

I hide against the wall, peeking out to watch. The cameraman looks around, as if not to be caught, and then presses a button on his equipment. A memory card pops out, and he extends it to Elliot like he’s making a drug deal. Elliot puts it in his pocket and moves to his truck, grabbing the final vases to bring upstairs.

ive switched side because i started this hating elliot and im ending it hating ama

“The wedding starts in an hour.” I can hear the terror in my voice. “This is not chill.” “Tell me the list. What do you need to do?” His voice is calm, and his eyes are on me.

:( aw he calms her :'(

“You’re right,” I say softly. “One day, I’ll know what it’s like to have four weddings in one day. One day, I’ll understand what it’s like to book up so quickly that I forget the conversation I had two days ago.” I nod, a smile curling my lips. “Because I’m coming, Whitney. I’m on my way up, and nothing you do to sabotage my business is going to stop me. I’m worth ten of you. I’ve always been worth ten of you, and you were right to fear me moving in on your market.”

c--------nty

She leans into me, and her teeth click over her consonants. “You think you can speak to me like that? I made you. How many clients have I sent your way, just for you to repay me like this? You think you’re moving in on my market? My market?! I’ve been working nationally while you’ve been slutting it up at bachelorette parties and flirting with my vendors just to get the same discounts.” My jaw drops. A laugh bursts from my throat. “I don’t know what’s funnier—that you think San Francisco and Lake Tahoe qualify as ‘nationally,’ or that you think you’re the only wedding planner who gets industry discounts. Bye, Whitney. I have a reception to run.”

AHHHHHHH LFGGGG

He slips his hand from my skin, and before he can run—before he can say anything—I tuck my bad leg behind me, and I kneel onto my right knee. I look up at him from the floor of the back room where we used to make love, from the place I first fell in love with not only his work but him, and I say, “I only want you. And I’m ready now.” I can’t read his face. My eyes are pricking, and he’s getting blurry. So I clarify, repeating his words. “Marry me.”

omfg wait that is kinda clever

When his lashes flutter open, I say, “Will you marry me?” He shakes his head. Or mumbles a no. Or turns over and tells me to fuck off. And I say, “When then?” “Maybe tomorrow,” he always says.

honestly thats kind of cute tho