Jordan gave her a nod, confusion swirling inside her. What did Abby do to her? One minute she wanted to shake her, the next she wanted to hold her in her arms and never let her go.

She cast those thoughts from her mind as she stumbled across the gravel, thankful her car wasn’t far away. She got in, and slammed the rusty door with finality. The quiet inside was eerie and deafening.

Jordan gripped the steering wheel, taking deep breaths. She had to get going. Get away from here, from this weird life she’d carved out for herself that was now slowly tearing her apart. She had to get another job. One that didn’t open her up to this madness.

She turned the key. The engine turned over, then died. She tried again. Same thing. She tried one more time.

Nothing.

She slammed the wheel, tears now right behind her eyes. She’d been loyal to Carrie. Why was she failing her now?

Why was her whole life failing her now?

Why did she never get the girl?

Tears fell, and she could do nothing to stop them. Soon, she was full-on crying. She didn’t care.

Despair tumbled down her, as the normally staid and put-together Jordan, professional bridesmaid extraordinaire, slowly crumbled. The irony that she was sat in the driver’s seat wasn’t lost on her. Jordan was normally the driver in her life. The one who had full control. However, since she’d met Abby, control had been taken from her. Now, she didn’t know what to do.

Abby was marrying Marcus.

Jordan had fallen for Abby.

A noise to her right made her sit up. Someone was knocking on her window. Jordan clenched her eyes tight shut, then reopened them. Another knock. She turned her head right.

It was Abby.

She couldn’t let Abby see her like this. Abby couldn’t know that Jordan was falling apart.

More knocking, then a gust of warm air as the door opened.

Then Abby was kneeling next to her, holding her hand.

It was too much. They shouldn’t be doing this. Abby was like a class A drug to Jordan. One hit was never enough.

“Jordan, let me help you.” Abby’s voice was warm, inviting.

Jordan shook her head. “Go back to your party, Abby.”

“Not when you’re like this. Especially not when your car won’t start.”

Jordan reached over, got a tissue and blew her nose. All thoughts of how she looked were long gone. Jordan was in survival mode. “I’m fine. I might just have to call a cab and leave my car here.”

Abby stood up, holding out a hand.

Jordan stared at it for a while, then grasped it, the gravel crunching beneath her feet. When her head drew level with Abby, she wobbled.

In response, Abby took Jordan in her arms and held her tight.