Chapter 9
1039 Words
Chapter 9: Family Trip From Hell
"Absolutely not."
Ivy pointed at her mother as though presenting evidence in a murder trial.
Grace pointed right back.
"Absolutely yes."
"It sounds illegal."
"It isn't."
"It should be."
The next morning sunlight poured through the dining room windows while wedding brochures covered almost every available surface.
Theodore sat quietly drinking coffee.
Smart man.
Very smart man.
Years of surviving Grace Collins had taught him one important rule.
Never stand between Grace and a wedding plan.
That was how people died.
"You said two rooms."
Grace nodded.
"Correct."
"Two."
"Yes."
"As in one plus one."
"That's how numbers work."
Ivy slowly turned toward Asher.
"Are you hearing this?"
"I'm trying not to."
Traitor.
"Mom."
"Sweetheart."
"I need details."
"Fine."
Grace looked far too pleased.
"The venue is a countryside resort."
"Okay."
"The hotel is fully booked."
"Okay."
"There are only two rooms left."
"Okay."
"Theodore and I have one."
"Okay."
"The second room—"
"No."
"You don't even know yet."
"I know enough."
"You and Asher will—"
"No."
"—have separate beds."
Ivy paused.
"...Separate?"
"Very separate."
"Like different countries?"
"No."
"Different zip codes?"
"No."
"Different beds."
The woman looked genuinely disappointed.
Apparently, she'd been preparing for battle.
The front door suddenly opened.
"HELLO LOSERS!"
Chloe marched inside carrying iced coffee and chaos.
Right on schedule.
Grace lit up immediately.
"Oh good, you're here."
Chloe froze.
That sentence had never once led to anything positive.
"Why?"
"We need another opinion."
"No."
"Too late."
Within three minutes Chloe knew everything.
Within four minutes she was laughing so hard she nearly fell off her chair.
"This is the funniest thing that's ever happened."
"It's my life."
"Exactly."
"You're a terrible friend."
"I know."
The betrayal never ended.
By Thursday afternoon everyone was packing.
Or rather...
Everyone except Ivy.
She sat dramatically on her bedroom floor surrounded by empty luggage.
Mochi watched from the bed.
Judging.
Always judging.
"I can't go."
Mochi blinked.
"I'll fake my death."
Mochi yawned.
"No support whatsoever."
A knock sounded at her door.
Before she could answer, Grace entered carrying folded clothes.
"Why aren't you packed?"
"I'm grieving."
"For what?"
"My freedom."
Grace tossed a sweater into the suitcase.
"You'll survive."
"Nobody knows that."
"You'll be gone three days."
"Exactly."
Three.
Entire.
Days.
Forty-eight hours would've been manageable.
Seventy-two hours felt personal.
Friday morning arrived far too quickly.
The family SUV was loaded.
The weather was perfect.
Birds were singing.
Ivy hated everything.
"Shotgun!" Chloe yelled.
Everyone looked at her.
"Why are you here?" Ivy asked.
"Your mother invited me."
Grace waved cheerfully.
"I thought you'd need emotional support."
"I need witness protection."
"Close enough."
And just like that, Chloe joined the trip.
The universe occasionally remembered Ivy suffered enough.
The drive started peacefully.
For twenty minutes.
Then Grace produced wedding playlists.
The horror began immediately.
"THIS IS MY SONG!" Grace gasped.
Every song was her song.
Every.
Single.
One.
Three hours later Theodore knew every lyric against his will.
At one point Ivy caught Asher silently staring out the window.
Probably questioning his life choices.
Relatable.
Very relatable.
The real disaster happened at a roadside diner.
The kind with checkered floors and giant pancakes.
Everyone piled into a booth.
Everything seemed normal.
Then the waitress arrived.
Young.
Pretty.
Very pretty.
Dangerously pretty.
She smiled at Asher.
"Oh wow."
Ivy immediately disliked where this was going.
"Can I start you off with something?"
Asher ordered coffee.
The waitress remained.
Still smiling.
Still standing there.
Still existing.
Rude.
Extremely rude.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"No thank you."
Still smiling.
Still there.
Go away, beautiful stranger.
You have jobs.
Responsibilities.
Dreams.
Pursue them elsewhere.
"I love your shirt."
There it was.
The flirting.
Obvious.
Criminal.
Asher glanced down at his plain black T-shirt.
"...Thanks."
"It's really nice."
It was a black shirt.
A black shirt.
How charming could cotton possibly be?
Across the table Chloe slowly noticed Ivy's expression.
Then smiled.
The witch.
"Oh my God."
"What?" Ivy hissed.
"Nothing."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What?"
Chloe leaned closer.
"You're jealous."
Ivy nearly inhaled a French fry.
"I am not."
"You're glaring."
"I'm observing."
"You looked ready to fight her."
"I don't fight."
"You once argued with a vending machine."
"IT STOLE FROM ME."
The waitress finally left.
Unfortunately Chloe wasn't done.
"You know..."
"No."
"You absolutely know."
"I don't."
"You do."
Grace suddenly joined the conversation.
The traitor queen herself.
"Know what?"
"Nothing."
"Ivy's jealous."
Silence.
Deadly silence.
Theodore slowly lowered his coffee.
Asher looked up.
Ivy contemplated becoming a cloud.
Just floating away forever.
"No."
"Oh yes."
"No."
"Sweetheart."
"No."
"You're adorable."
"I'M TWENTY-FOUR."
The entire table laughed.
Even Theodore.
Brutal.
Completely brutal.
The drive continued afterward.
By late afternoon they finally reached the resort.
The place looked beautiful.
Rolling hills.
Large gardens.
White buildings.
The sort of location people used for wedding magazines.
Grace immediately started crying.
"IT'S PERFECT."
The wedding planner looked alarmed.
Apparently this wasn't uncommon.
After check-in came room assignments.
The moment Ivy had dreaded.
The receptionist smiled politely.
"Mr. Silas and Miss Collins."
"No."
"Room 208."
"No."
"Two queen-sized beds."
"No."
"Complimentary breakfast."
"...Continue."
Everyone ignored her.
Minutes later she stood outside Room 208 holding her suitcase.
Asher stood beside her holding two.
Because of course he carried multiple suitcases like a professional bodybuilder sherpa.
The door opened.
The room was beautiful.
Large windows.
Mountain views.
Comfortable furniture.
And thankfully...
Two separate beds.
Far apart.
Very far apart.
Far enough to preserve civilization.
Ivy exhaled dramatically.
"Oh thank God."
Asher laughed quietly.
"You were worried?"
"No."
"You absolutely were."
"I was evaluating risk."
"Sure."
The evening passed with wedding meetings and family dinner.
Eventually everyone returned to their rooms.
For the first time all day, things felt calm.
Peaceful.
Manageable.
Then Ivy noticed something.
Something horrifying.
Something terrible.
Something that instantly ruined everything.
She looked at one bed.
Then the other.
Then slowly toward Asher.
"Why," she asked carefully.
"Hm?"
"Why is there only one blanket?"
Silence.
Asher looked.
Then looked again.
Then finally looked back at her.
Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance.
Inside, Ivy felt her soul leave her body.
Because somehow...
Somehow...
The weekend had found a brand-new way to torture her.
- Writer
