Free What Might Have Been by Wendi Zwaduk Page B

“You used to be so innocent and trusting until he twisted it all apart with his bare hands and jack-ass standards no one could meet.” She slapped her thighs then took her place behind Macy. “But I’m just as angry with you.”
    “Angry with me?” Macy replayed the conversation with Kealie. The blame for the broken relationship sat squarely in Will’s lap. But she hadn’t been totally without fault. She’d stayed in the relationship past the point of redemption. Still, she wanted to know what Kealie had to say. “What’d I do?”
    “You let Will hold importance. He’s a bastard who left you and good riddance.” Kealie’s shoulders slumped. “You have to let go. There’s a guy out there who may very well love you. Don’t let Will win.”
    “I burned my bridges with Tanner.” Macy’s heart squeezed within her chest. “He won’t come near me if he has any sense.”
    “Oh, no?” The smile returned to Kealie’s lips. She crooked her brow and resumed styling Macy’s hair. “Then we’ll give him a reason to crawl to you.”
    “How?”
    “Did you not invite the divine Miss Kealie here to costume you?” Macy nodded. “Then shut up and let me make some magic.” Kealie winked at their reflections. “No man can resist a woman in a little black dress.”
    Although Macy didn’t buy into everything Kealie said, she knew her friend was right. Allowing her past to razor her future had got her nowhere relationship-wise for the past seven years. Macy swallowed her fears and a large share of her pride. When she saw Tanner that night, she’d show him where her heart lay.
    With him.
    “Move over, Miss Independent. Miss Commitment is ready to pounce.”
     
    * * * *
     
    At seven thirty, the limo pulled up in front of the school building. Macy leant back against the plush leather seat. The tapes from her garter belt dug into her thighs and her feet ached from the pointy black stilettos.
    On Kealie’s orders, Gerard Andersen, Macy’s favourite cover model, sat next to her. Across the expanse of the limo, Kealie had tucked herself neatly between the twins—Cole and Eric McClure. Macy suppressed a snicker. Trust Kealie not only to make an entrance, but to up the shock value in the process. Outside the car, people cheered with hoots and catcalls. According to the reunion itinerary, the Class of ‘97 wanted the honour of having the last banquet-slash-ball in the building, complete with a gantlet for photo ops.
    “I don’t know why they have to make such a spectacle over a reunion.” Macy buried her nose against Gerard’s shoulder. Either Cole or Eric had bathed in cologne. The tangy scent churned her already weak stomach. “I want to get in, dance with Berto and Remi, and get out.”
    “That’s all?” Kealie snapped. “Come on. I didn’t fly here from sunny Vegas just to watch you wuss out.”
    “What else are reunions for?”
    “They’re a pissing contest, reunions.” Kealie grabbed Cole’s hand and plopped it on her thigh. “Who can shoot the farthest while wearing a designer dress or top-of-the-line tuxedo. It’s childish, really. Besides, do I really need a reason to crash a party? I didn’t go to school here, so it makes no never-mind to me.”
    “You realise how crude you can be on occasion?” Macy asked.
    “That’s why you love me.” She linked arms with Cole and Eric. “Come on, boys. Let’s show them how to have a wicked good time.”
    The concrete entryway, complete with tiger sculptures guarding the doors, loomed before her. Macy dragged air into her lungs and squeezed Gerard’s hand. “Thanks for making me look good.”
    “Make you look good? Honey, you look gorgeous.” Gerard cupped her chin with his free hand before they exited the car. “And if Chris and I ever decide to add a woman to our mix, you’re the first girl on our list.”
    “Which will never happen because you’re crazy about each other, but you made my day. Thanks.”
    “I aim to please.” He stepped