Yesenia messaged me one day to tell me that Gigi wanted to find a new job and Izzy wanted to be her replacement. The reason Gigi wanted a new job? Because Brendan was “being mean to her.” Apparently she told Miguel about it and he told her that she should work directly with him and not Brendan because he didn’t want things to get “more messy.” What the fuck did that mean? Yesenia is Brendan’s office manager/assistant and she always keeps her ears to the street for me. There’s never any drama with Brendan (obviously), but she lets me know when she sees on security footage that Miguel and Izzy stayed in the office until 10 PM and left together or that a bottle of the office whisky has mysteriously gone missing and she suspected a couple of the guys were drinking on the job. I love her a lot.

So Brendan and I have decided to move in together. I can’t remember who brought it up in a serious way — we’ve talked about it in passing a lot — but then we were like, “Maybe we really should do this.” I mean, we spend just about every night together either at my apartment or his so it only makes sense. But before we could even seriously discuss it, Brendan said that he was going to think about it. And by think about it, he meant ask his stepmom if she thought it was a good idea and I know that because Margot asked me about it.

She started asking me questions about Brady and our relationship and we lived together, right? How did I think living together affected our relationship?

I was honest and said, “I actually can’t really remember a time when we didn’t live together. We probably started living together prematurely, but we were both just like, young and stupid. And it also wasn’t the right relationship.” 

Brendan asked me a few days later if I was okay to move into his place with him or if we should try to find a new place so I guess my convo with Margot didn’t go that bad. He’s like, “I wasn’t necessarily thinking about you moving in when I moved in here and I just want you to be comfortable.”

It’s like, babe. I basically designed your entire apartment for you with myself and my daughter in mind but I’m glad to know you’re thinking of me!

So anyway, Winnie and I will be moving in with Brendan at the end of the summer. Plenty of time to slowly move our shit in, get Winnie used to the idea, finalize all the little details (like the parking spot Brendan secured for me 🥺) and change our mind if we need to. I’m really excited, but really nervous. I love Brendan and our relationship so, so much and I’m terrified that moving in together will make us implode. We’re always together, but not like this. Like: sharing household chores, having serious discussions about finances, and not being able have much needed space when necessarily. And Brendan and Winnie have a great relationship, but he hasn’t seen all sides of her. She’s just as moody as her mama and has plenty of outbursts and potty accidents and I don’t know, is Brendan ready for all that? And I’m also afraid I’m going to discover that he isn’t as trustworthy as I’ve always thought and he’ll come home from work late smelling like Flowerbomb (something I would absolutely not wear). I know that I want to marry Brendan so moving in together is the natural next step in our relationship, but I’m still afraid it’s going to ruin everything we’ve got going on now.

And even though I already know that we are moving with Brendan in a few months, I will not be telling Brady until the very last minute because I am petty and fuck him!

My friend from Chicago, Lexi, got married in Mexico last month. Do y’all remember Lexi? She’s a mess. We used to go out a lot and get ourselves into some predicaments and she also used to hook up with Brady’s married brother so there’s that. The fact that she was getting married before me is absolutely insane, but I was happy for her and even happier to take a vacation with my boyfriend as my plus one.

We got to Cabo on Thursday and had immediate plans to have drinks with Preston. I know y’all remember Preston. They were one of my best friends when I lived in Chicago, but after I moved away we kind of lost touch. Since then, Preston has been engaged like four or five times and is now divorced so we had a lot to catch up on. Also, Preston came out as non-binary a few years ago and uses they/them pronouns. I was a little concerned about using the wrong pronouns since it would be my first time seeing Preston since they came out as NB, but of all people, I knew Preston would give me grace.

Anyway, we got to the resort and went to our room to change and before we could even meet them down at the bar, Preston came banging on the door. I should’ve never told them which suite we were in. And they weren’t alone — there were three other people with Preston, including a girl I hate named Nicole.

“Oh. My. Gawd. Is that really Reesie Piecie?” Preston screamed as they all let themselves into our room. “Is it really you in the flesh?!”

“Your room is sick! Look at this view!!” Nicole shouted. I absolutely hate Nicole.

“You’re skinny. Are you doing fillers? You look fantastic. And who’s this?” Preston said, squeezing me.

“This is Brendan,” I said.

Brendan put his hand out to shake Preston’s, but Preston hugged him instead.

“Hi! You’re more handsome in person,” they said. “And you smell nice.”

“I want to smell!” Nicole yelled and came over to introduce herself. And then she’s like, “Oh hey Reese, what’s up?”

What’s up? Fuck off.

“So how have you been?” Preston said and turned so they were facing away from Brendan and made a face like they were impressed. I get that my man is a cutie and all, but why was Preston acting like this was surprising? I have good taste!

We all headed down to the bar and Preston put an arm in mine.

“Obsessed,” they said. “Do you miss Brady?”

“Not in the slightest!” I gasped. The fuck?

Down at the bar, Preston ordered a round of tequila for everyone. In the words of Tom Schwartz, I’ve been kind of sober-curious these days, but I was willing to make an exception for vacation. I could never be totally sober, but I’ve been trying to drink less in general (like not drinking at all during the week) and sticking to wine and beer over spirits/liquor.

“What’s NYC like? Are you hoe-ing it up up there?” Preston asked, grinning. 

“Uh, no,” I replied. Really? As if my boyfriend wasn’t sitting right there?

“The bartender is hot as fuck,” Nicole said.

“So Brendan, tell me everything about yourself. I’m sure Reese has filled you in about me,” Preston went on.

Admittedly I hadn’t, except to explain their pronouns, but I hadn’t gotten fully into the Preston and Reese lore.

“He was born and raised in New York, owns a business and is divorced but has no kids,” I said.

“I can answer for myself,” Brendan said, playfully.

“Exactly. Let the man speak,” Preston said.

Well, excuse the fuck out of me.

The bartender slid another round of shots in front of us.

“Next round is on me,” Nicole said with her raspy, smokers’ voice and winked.

So we took the shots and continued talking. Preston kept saying things like, “I can’t believe you’re here,” and “I can’t believe it’s really you.” And it made me feel bad for not really keeping in contact with them or putting any effort into our friendship. In my defense though, they haven’t really kept up with me either except to occasionally reply with emojis to my Instagram stories or tag me in outfits they think I’d look good in.

Preston said, “So I’m divorced too. It’s truly so fucked up, like I never thought I could experience heartbreak like that. I was in a deep depression for 11 months that I never thought I’d get out of. It was awful.”

“Yeah…it’s not a nice position to be in,” Brendan said back.

“How long were you married?” I asked because I really wasn’t sure.

“2 months,” Preston said.

Nicole and the other guy and girl they were with continued ordering drinks for all of us and chatting up the bartender. Nicole was attempting to speak Spanish to him in an offensive way, especially considering he was speaking in English to us. She’s just literally so stupid.

“So after you have a baby, how long do you have to wait to have sex?” Preston asked. I’d been telling him all about my little princess Winnie and how she’s basically a tiny version of me.

“Um, I think it just depends. At least a few weeks,” I said back.

“How long did you wait?” they wanted to know.

“I can’t remember,” I replied because I really can’t. All I know is I didn’t really want to have sex for a long time after giving birth, especially with Brady (oops).

“And then after that, what’s it like? It must be so different having someone down there after you’ve pushed a skull through your cookie, you know what I mean?” Preston went on.

I’m like, “Do you mind? I don’t really want to talk about this right now.” I was starting to get drunk, but not that drunk.

“Fine,” Preston sniffled. “I was just curious and I don’t have any other friends who have babies.”

“You act like Kendra and Carly don’t exist,” I pointed out.

“They basically don’t. Did I tell you that I ran into Kendra at Nordstrom Rack and she pretended not to see me? I mean, I was embarrassed to be there too, but I was doing a return for a friend! I texted that bitch later and called her out!” Preston said.

“What the hell was she doing at Nordstrom Rack?” I exclaimed.

“I don’t goddamn know, she’s so weird now!”

Another round of shots materialized and the bar was starting to fill up. It was getting close to dinner time and Brendan and I had late reservations for the Mediterranean restaurant at the resort.

“So what’s everyone’s body count?” Nicole shouted. “I’ll start. 70!”

Nicole and Preston’s guy friend said 30 and the girl said 10.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I have no idea!” Preston said proudly.

“You can’t remember your body count?!” Nicole screamed, impressed.

“Well I guess it depends on what you would consider a body,” Preston said and we all laughed.

“And you, Reese?” Nicole said.

“I’m not answering that,” I said. It’s like, who fucking cares how many people you’ve had sex with? We’re all adults and at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. You know a few years ago I would’ve been salivating at this topic of conversation, but these days I just can’t be bothered.

“Is it because you’re ashamed of how high it is? I knew you were hoe-ing it up!” Preston giggled. Seriously?

“Brendan? What about you?” Nicole said. She was just not letting up.

“He’s not answering that either,” I said. Why the fuck did Nicole need to know my boyfriend’s body count?

“You’re no fun,” Brendan whispered in my ear and I knew he was feeling a little tipsy too.

So anyway, we sat there drinking for another little while as the bar filled up. Luckily we still had our seats at the bar because it was now standing room only. At one point Nicole got up to use the restroom — alone — and we all continued sitting there and drinking. I was drunk so I had no concept of time, but someone pointed out that Nicole had been in the bathroom for quite a while and she’d left her phone and purse at the bar so we couldn’t exactly call her to see if had gotten lost.

“Reese, come with me to find this little slut,” Preston said and dragged me through the crowded bar to the back where the restrooms were. They made me go into the stalls to see if she was in there, but I only found a bathroom attendant and a group of girls from Arizona. My girls! They needed a hair tie and I had one so I chatted with them for a little while until Preston shouted into the restroom to ask if Nicole was in there. In that short amount of time, I’d completely forgotten about Nicole or that I was supposed to be looking for her.

“Okay, she wasn’t in there. Maybe there’s another bathroom that she went to,” I told Preston.

“There’s not! I asked!” they cried. “I have no idea where she could be!”

Mind you, this was at one of those huge all-inclusive resorts in Mexico with hundreds of rooms and dozens of bars and restaurants so the girl could literally be anywhere.

“Let’s not panic. She knows where we are so she’ll come back when she’s ready,” I said calmly.

Preston stormed off back to where we were sitting at the bar and by this point, their girl and guy friend had worked themselves into a frenzy as well.

“The bartender is gone too!” the girl whisper-shouted. “I was going to ask him if he’d seen Nicole and the new bartender said he left for the day.”

“Oh my GOD!” Preston screamed. “He left and took Nicole with him?!”

I turned to Brendan. “How long has she even been gone?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe 45 minutes? An hour?”

Definitely longer than I thought, but still no need to panic. In my mind it made sense to me that the “hot” bartender had clocked out of his shift, summoned Nicole to some unknown location for sex and she’d catch back up with us eventually. But everyone was too shrill for me to explain that. Plus I was drunk.

Someone had called over a pair of security guards and Preston was giving them a physical description of Nicole.

“She’s 5 foot 6, 100 pounds. Well, maybe 102 since we’ve gotten to Mexico,” they said through tears. “Bronde hair down to the middle of her back, needs a trim. She was wearing an oversized white sweatshirt, biker shorts. I can’t remember what shoes she was wearing!”

“She was wearing New Balance 550s covered in mud!” the guy friend shrieked.

The security guards let us know that he hadn’t seen her, but would keep an eye out.

“I was just listening to a true crime case about this,” the girl said. “A woman got abducted from a bar in Mexico and they found her body in the desert.”

(There’s a body count joke in here somewhere that I’m not willing to explore)

“Oh my GOD! Why would you even tell me that right now?” Preston sobbed.

“I don’t know, I’m so sorry,” the girl said, now in full hysterics as well.

I had to put an end to this as we were creating a scene.

“Y’all. Nicole has not been abducted and I doubt she’s in any danger,” I said calmly.

“How can you be sure about that? She left all of her things — her phone, her wallet, her room key! She can’t do anything without that!” Preston said.

Brendan turned his phone to face me so I could see an alert that said our dinner reservation was in 15 minutes. Thank goodness — a way out.

“I’m sure she’ll turn up,” I said to the group half heartedly. “But we have dinner in 15 minutes and I’m starving.”

“You’re going to go to dinner? While Nicole is missing?!” Preston exclaimed.

“I mean…”

“You could at least help us find her, alive. She’d do the same for you.”

I turned to Brendan and he shrugged and now I was on the verge of tears just like everyone else.

“I’m texting Lexi,” Preston announced, pulling out their phone. “I hope this doesn’t ruin her wedding.”

“You guyssss,” I cried. “She’s probably going to pop back up any minute!”

“Policia!” the girl was shouting over the bar sounds to the new bartender. “Can you please call the policia?!”

They directed us back to the two security guards we’d spoken to earlier and we took our party outside where the security guards were stationed. 

“We should probably all split up and look for her,” I suggested. “She’s probably at one of the pools or something.”

Preston grabbed my forearm. “No!! And risk another one of us going missing? I’m not letting anyone out of my sight!”

The security guards had called for backup and by the time backup arrived, I was full on sobbing with everyone else. We’d missed our dinner reservation so I was starving, I was drunk and Preston was basically holding me hostage. Brendan, bless his heart, was the only sane and calm one and communicated with security while the rest of us had breakdowns of various magnitudes.

Lexi and her fiancé came down from wherever they were to meet us and she was looking stunning and radiant as ever. She was getting married the next evening, mind you. We hugged briefly and then Preston filled her in on what was going on. I could not believe the situation had escalated to this point, but I guess I had no sense of how much time had passed.

Eventually we set to shop in the main lobby so we could see all of the comings and goings of the resort and since the bar was now closed, she wouldn’t be able to find us there. Preston worked the phones, the girl canvassed the area and I sat there crying like a small child while Brendan consoled me.

“I can’t fucking believe she did this the night before my wedding,” Lexi said. And then she revealed that she hadn’t even wanted to invite Nicole to the wedding in the first place, but Preston guilted her into it. “If this bitch ends up dead and overshadows my wedding, I’ll never forgive her!”

Brendan laughed nervously like the joke made him uncomfy.

“Wait, you don’t think anything really happened to her, do you?” I asked.

“I mean, I don’t know. It’s been hours.”

Not them convincing Brendan, who is reasonable, that she’d actually been abducted or something.

I guess it was close to 4am at that point. We’d been out for almost 12 hours and I was exhausted. I kept dozing off, but every so often Preston would gasp or sob and it would wake me up.

About an hour later, Brendan of all people finally suggested that we should all get some sleep and reconvene in a few hours.

“You’re totally right,” Preston sniffled and then turned to Lexi. “At what point do you call off the wedding? It would be in poor taste to have a wedding while your friend is missing and possibly abducted or murdered?”

Lexi was understandably fuming at the mere mention of canceling her wedding (I would absolutely not cancel my wedding over Nicole either), but said that we’d cross that bridge if we got there.

So we all retreated to our rooms and went to sleep.

Preston called me happily at 8am.

“Hey boo,” they said and I could already hear Nicole shouting in the background. “Can you believe Nic was up in her room that whole time? She fucked the bartender in the bathroom and then had someone from the front desk let her into her room. I didn’t even think to look there!”

Preston and Nicole cracked up like any part of that was funny. I hadn’t thought to look for Nicole in her room either, but after the night we had it was far too soon to be funny! I was so fucking pissed about the entire scenario and avoided Preston (and Nicole, obviously) for the rest of the weekend.

The next trip Brendan and I went on was to Saint Martin and this is kind of embarrassing, but I was convinced he was going to propose to me this time. Mainly because he planned the trip without me (usually he suggests something and then we kind of plan it together) and he was just like, “I’m taking you to Saint Martin on these days.”

Oh? We’d already decided that we were moving in together at that point so the timing lined up and he’d already told me that he’s never been there (imagine getting engaged somewhere he used to take his ex-wife). So I went around shopping for pieces to wear on our trip, got a modest manicure and confronted Brendan about the rowing instructor because I will absolutely not be engaged to a man who thinks he needs to follow his hot rowing instructors on Instagram!

We were laying together on the couch one night and I pulled up my phone in his full line of vision, opened Instagram, and navigated to his following list like I did months ago.

“Fascinating that you’re following [Molly-mae-look-alike] on Instagram!” I blurted out.

“She followed me first,” Brendan said, like that explained anything.

“And you followed her back?” I said.

“Yep. Do you actually think it’s fascinating? Are you upset by it?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just don’t understand why you need to be following each other. Do you message each other?” I said, suddenly getting really nervous that he was going to tell me something I did not want to hear.

“She messages me,” Brendan said and my heart sank. “But it’s always just stuff about class. Look.”

He pulled out Instagram on his own phone and showed me the messages from Miss Wishes She Was Molly Mae: stuff like “Justin Bieber mashup this Thursday, book now!” Dozens of them. Nothing from Brendan’s side. And apparently she has another Instagram, a personal, private one and Brendan showed me that he’s not following her private page and I clocked that the follow button said, “Follow Back.” So that all made me feel really stupid and silly and I really just need to trust my man.

Anyway. After all that, I’m not engaged. 🤡

And I really don’t need to be so I don’t know I got myself all hyped up like that. I know it’ll happen eventually — Brendan has all but told me that and I believe him. The trip was really nice and relaxing and I came back a bronzed goddess. I got so much sun that I booked an appointment with a dermatologist to make sure all of my moles still look normal.