The Status of All Things Read Online Free PDF Page A

caught sexting with his assistant—standing behind him but not supporting him. As he spoke, I concentrated on a black mark I had spotted on the ceiling, while my guests searched my face for answers. Don’t look at me , I had thought. I don’t have them either.
    The digital clock on the nightstand reads 7:30 a.m.Shortly they would start setting up the white garden chairs on the oceanfront lawn. “Did Stella call and cancel—”
    “She took care of everything,” Jules answers before I can finish my sentence.
    Could she take care of my broken heart too? Was that in her job description?
    “Does everyone—”
    “Yes. Everyone knows.”
    I lie back against my pillow and stare at a picture of a palm tree hanging on the wall until the image blurs into a streak of green, reminding me of the finger painting Jules’ daughter made for me that’s tacked to my corkboard at work.
    My phone vibrates against the glass top of the nightstand and I grab it out of habit and click onto my Facebook page. Dozens of congratulatory messages flood my wall. My heart aches as I think about my dad not walking me down the aisle, Jules’ daughter not carrying the flowers, Liam not giving a hilarious toast at the reception, where he finally makes good on his threat to tell an incredibly embarrassing story about me.
    “Stop!” Jules reaches over and tries to grab my phone from my hand, but I hold it against my chest and protect it like a bird with a broken wing. “Just give me your cell and nobody gets hurt,” Jules says, a smile in her eyes.
    “I think it’s too late for that,” I deadpan.
    “I warn you, I will use force if I have to.” She crawls onto the bed and tries to pry my arms apart. “Remember the time I caught you drunk dialing that guy in college—what was his name? Started with a B—”
    “Bobby. Bobby Jenkins. You know he just posted that he sold his software company—he’s so successful he goes by Robert now.”
    “Makes sense—I don’t think I could invest in a Bobby,” Jules says.
    “Whatever—the point is, maybe if you hadn’t yanked the phone out of my hand that night, I would’ve married him and this”—I point at my wedding dress as if blaming it for last night’s events—“would’ve never happened.”
    Jules rolls her eyes and snatches the phone just as I relaxmy arms. “It’s not a good idea to read this stuff right now. I’m saving you from yourself. As your matron of—” Jules freezes as she catches herself.
    “Matron of dis honor now!” I force a laugh.
    “I’m sorry—I wasn’t thinking. I just don’t want you reading that. No good can come from it.”
    “What am I supposed to tell everyone? What’s my status report? Feeling sad. Got jilted ?”
    “Come on, Kate. That’s the last thing you should worry about right now. Everyone will understand.”
    “People are going to feel sorry for me.”
    “No they won’t! They’ll feel sad for you. There’s a difference.”
    “Well, either way, I’m going radio silence. At least for now.”
    “That alone should tell them something awful happened!” Jules jokes. Admittedly, I was sometimes guilty of oversharing on social media—checking in at my Pilates class, uploading pictures of the models from a photo shoot at work, even posting links on Jules’ wall about the latest episode of Girls . I had never denied that I loved interacting with everyone online, that I enjoyed sharing all the best parts of my life there. But in my defense, I had always drawn the line at taking pictures of my food.
    “I like keeping in touch with everyone,” I argue weakly. “At least I’m not as bad as some people. You know who I keep thinking about?”
    “Max?” Jules offers.
    I cringe at the mention of his name. “Well, yes, but no. I mean Callie.”
    “Callie Trenton? From college?”
    I nod my head. “Her wedding pictures keep flashing through my mind. She just posted them in honor of still being ‘deliriously happy’ after ten years. Did