The reunion, p.1
The Reunion, page 1
The Reunion
Kiersten Modglin
Copyright
THE REUNION is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, images, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. No part of this publication may be used, shared, or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles and reviews. If you would like permission to use material from the book for any use other than in a review, please contact:
www.kierstenmodglinauthor.com/contact
Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Cover Design by Kiersten Modglin
Copy Editing by Three Owls Editing
Proofreading by My Brother’s Editor
Formatting by Kiersten Modglin
Copyright © 2021 by Kiersten Modglin.
All rights reserved.
First Print and Electronic Edition: 2021
kierstenmodglinauthor.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
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Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Kiersten Modglin
This book is dedicated to the beautiful memory of the man I told all my first stories to. The one who believed in me, cheered me on, and called to tell me no one would notice that first 1-star review.
Love you, Daddy.
Miss you.
Chapter One
Present Day
I didn’t want to return to Hotel Lilith.
Not after everything that happened.
Just the sight of it was enough to make my insides quiver, my fingers suddenly too cold on the steering wheel. I sucked my lips inward, chomping down with my teeth to calm my nerves.
It was all going to be fine.
It had to be.
I pulled my Lexus into an empty space—its caviar-colored exterior recently waxed. I should’ve flown in, to save myself time, but the idea of driving, of having a getaway car and direct path home should I need it, felt safer. I couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved or disappointed when there were no familiar faces waiting for me in the parking lot. On one hand, I wanted to show them all what had become of me. I wanted them to know I’d made something of myself. And the car that had cost more than my house growing up was one of the ways I’d planned to prove that.
On the other hand, I was in no hurry to see anyone I’d gone to high school with. In fact, I’d considered not coming at all. I didn’t want to. If it wasn’t for the nagging need to face what happened, face everyone again, I might not have.
I stepped out of the car and smoothed down my Burberry skirt before making my way toward the trunk.
The hotel was tall and gray, with several windows along the front and sides. The scarlet-shingled roof, brick foundation, and bright, neon red sign at the tallest point were the only color on the drab building. There were three separate wings, all connected by long corridors and breezeways. The sections on opposite ends sat forward several feet closer to the paved parking lot than the section in the middle, making it so the building formed a ‘U’ shape. Along the front of the middle section, a covered porch with thin, white pillars hosted four white rocking chairs.
The large sign that sat planted in the ground in front of the building matched the sign at the top of the building, though this one wasn’t lit up, but rather handcrafted. It had chipping paint and spiderwebs gathering in the capital L of the name Lilith.
I tugged my suitcase from the trunk and set it down. With my head held high and shoulders back, I walked toward the porch, the wheels of my luggage rattling along the pavement behind me.
When I reached the entrance, a man dressed in a sleek black suit with a red pocket square smiled politely, holding the door open for me.
“Good afternoon. Welcome to Hotel Lilith.”
“Good afternoon,” I replied, darting my eyes away from him with my chin tucked into my chest. “Thank you.” If he recognized me, he didn’t say so. These days, I was used to being recognized for different reasons than before. But meeting someone who didn’t recognize me at all was a welcome reprieve.
I strode through the open doorway, across the veined marble floor, and looked around. To my right, there was a long, black desk with red embellishments. The woman behind the desk looked as though she’d been built into the hotel’s aesthetic.
Her onyx eyes matched the black suit she was wearing, a uniform identical to the one worn by the man at the door. Her perfectly symmetrical and pin straight crimson bob was the same shade of red as her lipstick. Her ruby lips stretched into a smile to greet me.
The lobby smelled faintly of bananas, and my eyes traveled up the gray wall behind the woman, checking out the wide-screen television with the Hotel Lilith logo and today’s weather on its screen.
“Hello there. Checking in?” The woman drew my attention back to her and, as I reached the desk, I noticed her dark red nails, click-clacking along the keyboard in front of her, also matched her hair and lips. Had the employees dressed this way before?
I couldn’t remember.
There’d been too much on my mind that night.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat, leaning forward as I tried to keep my voice low. “It’s under Cait Du Bois.”
“Can you spell that for me?” she asked, her brow furrowed slightly as she waited for me to do so. Once I had, she nodded.
“Yes. There you are. Okay, it looks like we have you in a suite.” I detected a hint of reverence in her tone. “Will you be needing two key cards or just one?”
“Oh.” I clicked my tongue. “You’d better just give me one for now. I’m not sure if my husband will be able to make it or not.” It was a lie. He wasn’t coming. Why didn’t I feel self-assured enough to say that?
It was this place, I knew it.
No longer was I an adult, a mom, a wife, a bestselling author who toured the world and signed autographs for thousands. Here, I was eighteen all over again.
Reliving the worst night of my life.
She set to work, swiping a card through the machine in front of her and sliding it into a small envelope. She scribbled down the room number and passed it to me across the counter. “I’ll get someone to bring your bag to your room for you, is—”
“That’s alright,” I said, probably too quickly, then tried to recover. “I, um, I can get it myself.” She appeared startled by my interruption.
“Are you sure?” she asked, leaning over the counter to inspect my bag. “That’s what they’re here for.”
“I’m positive,” I assured her.
“Okay.” She seemed hesitant, but didn’t argue any further. “Your suite is on the third floor, take a right past the elevators. Is there anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable?”
“No, you’ve been great…” I glanced down, checking her nametag. “Marci. Thank you very much.”
“My pleasure. Thank you for staying with us. Please let me know if there’s anything we can do to make you feel more at home.” She twirled a piece of her hair between her fingers as I turned to cross the lobby toward the elevator.
I rode to the third floor in silence, sharing the space with just one other person, whose eyes remained locked on his phone. When we reached my floor, two older women entered without waiting to allow me off. The door had nearly shut before I could shove my way through.
“Excuse me,” I said as I went, already irritated.
I turned right, searching for my room number, the wheels of my luggage silenced by the hallway carpet. When I spied the number I was looking for, 333, I matched it to my card envelope just to confirm. I stopped, pulling out the key card and placing it to the reader.
As I heard the click, I lowered the card and pushed the door open, stepping inside. The room was oversized and airy, bigger than my first apartment, and carried the same vague banana scent I’d noticed in the lobby. I placed my car keys and s unglasses down on the entry table to my right, moving forward into the sitting room.
There were three gray couches, a red chair, and a TV stand, sitting atop an antique-looking rug that fit the place perfectly. The curtains were drawn, as I liked them, and I reveled in the fact that, for the next few days, I wouldn’t have to deal with my husband insisting we keep them open all day. I could sit in the darkness and relish every minute of it.
They say you should marry someone who can make you laugh. I say you should marry someone who shares your preference when it comes to blinds and curtains. There was nothing that could make us fight quicker.
I placed my suitcase onto the longest couch, running my hands along the sides to search for the zipper. Once it was opened, I pulled out my laptop case, checking over my MacBook closely. It held my latest manuscript, the one I was two weeks behind my deadline on. I should’ve opened the laptop and set to work straightaway, but first, I wanted to call home and let them know I’d made it. I placed the MacBook on the coffee table in the center of the room and closed my suitcase, crossing the room as I dialed his number and stopping in front of the mirror.
It rang twice before he answered. “Hello?” I could hear the twins in the background.
“Gimme it!”
“Bubba, stop!”
My husband sighed, and I could hear their cries growing softer as I assumed he was walking away from them. “Sorry, can you hear me?”
I giggled, crossing my arms and staring at my reflection. The woman who stood before me was practically a stranger. Her strength had been forged from the tough times she’d endured. The wrinkles already beginning to develop at just twenty-eight were well earned.
“I was calling to see how it’s going, but I guess I have my answer,” I told him, grinning to myself.
“No, it’s fine. They’re playing bird doctor right now and fighting over who gets to play with the stuffed parrot Lucy got from the zoo.”
“Bird doctor, hm? That’s a new one.”
“Never a dull moment,” he said with a long breath. “Did you make it okay? Are you there?”
“I’m here,” I said, my eyes traveling up the light charcoal walls toward the intricate wisps and swirls of the ceiling above me, and falling back to the mirror. “I wish you were here with me.”
“Trust me, I wish I was too.” I heard a crash in the distance and suddenly someone was crying.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” I heard Hudson shouting over his sister’s wails.
My body tensed, missing them so much already. “Is she okay? What happened?” I asked, listening to my husband’s panicked breathing as he rushed toward them.
“Everything’s fine. Just a bump.” His words were drowned out by Lucy’s loud cries, and I cradled the phone in my hands, wishing it was her.
“Hey, baby,” I said, trying to comfort her from so far away. It was no use. She couldn’t hear me.
“Hey, I’ve gotta get off here and take care of this. I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?” he called over the line.
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me, and then her cries were cut short as the call ended. I dropped my hands to my sides, staring closer at my reflection in the mirror. My copper-brown curls had fallen flat during the drive in, flyaways sticking up in every direction. Black mascara had creased under my eyes, the rest of my makeup dry and cakey.
I swiped a finger under each eye and pulled a ponytail holder from my bag, twisting my hair into a bun. I should start writing. I needed to get a few chapters knocked out before dinner, but I didn’t want to. Not yet.
I wanted a drink.
I considered calling down for room service, but I didn’t want to wait. Instead, I’d go down to the hotel lounge and have a drink to settle in, then dive straight into the story.
I dug through my bag, searching for leave-in conditioner and swiping a small amount across my hair to tame the flyaways and then made my way back to the door.
I rode the elevator down to the lobby again, my heels clicking across the marble floor as I followed the signs that led to the hotel lounge, ignoring the sign that told me the other direction, left, would take me to the ballroom.
The room filled with memories.
Then again, this entire place was filled with haunting memories. A chill ran over my arms at the thought, and I rubbed them quickly, trying to ease the goose bumps.
“Cait? Oh my god!” a familiar voice called out to me, and I heard his shoes clicking across the floor before I turned to face him. His blond hair had been neatly cut, a faint trace of blond stubble on his strong chin. His build, once long and lean, had filled out, taut muscles poking out from under the gray waffle-knit shirt.
“Sam?” I asked, trying to remain calm, though I suspected my eyes had betrayed me. “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, genius.” He pulled me into a hug, both arms wrapped tightly around my shoulders. My nerve endings tingled under his touch, my heart ready to explode. As if we hadn’t spent the better portion of ten years apart, my body slid into place in his arms, every bit as familiar and safe as I’d felt back then.
We stayed like that, arms wrapped around each other for far too long, neither of us ready to let go. I felt cool tears pricking my eyes when he finally released me, leaning back but keeping his hands on my shoulders. “God, you look great,” he said, smiling widely as his eyes raked down the length of my body, then back up. “You haven’t aged a day.”
“Well, you’re a good liar,” I said, my cheeks pinkening as I batted back tears, praying they wouldn’t fall. “But thank you. It’s so good to see you.”
“I didn’t know if you’d come.” His eyes danced between mine.
“I’m sorry, I saw your text. I meant to respond, but, truth be told, I wasn’t sure I was going to come until…well, until I pulled into the parking lot, really.”
His nod was understanding. “Hey, no problem. I just assumed Ms. Celebrity was busy and hadn’t seen the message.” My ears burned red as he teased me, and I tucked my chin to my chest, placing a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
“Oh, it’s not like that…”
He wasn’t wrong about my inbox being full, but that wasn’t why I hadn’t answered. “Besides, I wasn’t sure if I was coming, either. Honestly, if you’d said you weren’t, I might not have,” he went on.
My chest was tight with sudden guilt. “Really?” Sam had been my best friend once, and I hadn’t been fair to him over the years. We hadn’t spoken for years after graduation, but he’d always been there for me when I needed him. He was the man of honor at my wedding, but after that, our calls had gone from weekly, to monthly, then even more sporadic. At that point, it had likely been more than a year since we’d spoken, and I was entirely to blame for the unreturned calls and texts. Sam had tried, always, even when it wasn’t his place, but I’d retreated after everything that happened. I couldn’t bear to face him.
To face anyone.
“Yeah, I mean, you’re the only one I care about seeing.” There was something a little too honest about his words, and I forced myself to look away. He swiped his hand through his hair, tucking it into his pocket. “Hey, have you already checked in?”
“Yeah, I’ve got my room…” My eyes landed on his suitcase still waiting by the front desk. The redheaded receptionist was watching us intently, as if we were her favorite soap opera.
“Cool, I’m getting mine now.” He followed my gaze back toward his bag. “Listen, can you hang on a sec? Let me get my key?”
