“It’s so sweet that you ended up with Ryan after all these years,” she drawled. “But don’t let that fool you. They all cheat. It’s never a matter of if, it’s when. They just can’t help it. You wouldn’t believe the amount of women throwing themselves at these boys.”
I dropped my head back. The fizzy pressure inside me slowly turned acidic as it sloshed in my belly. “Good to know.”
“I don’t say any of this to take away from your happiness or discourage you one bit,” she went on without a hint of irony. “You know firsthand how it is. This one won’t be any different.”
I didn’t want to argue with her. I couldn’t. There was no sense in telling her that Ryan simply wasn’t like my father or any of my stepdads. She’d never believe it. She’d have too many examples to back up her claims. And the sad part was that I had seen it all.
“I’ll put you in touch with my lawyer. We can’t have you ending up in the middle of nowhere without two pennies to your name, the same way your father left us.”
“I think I’m okay on the lawyer front,” I said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I started finding little things,” she said, ignoring me. “First it was earrings. Then it was a silk scarf. A diamond watch. I thought he was saving them for my birthday or just a surprise for some rainy day.” She drew in a breath and I could almost see the sad, faraway look she’d get in her eyes whenever she talked about the end of her first marriage. “But then my birthday would pass and the trinkets would be gone, and I knew he’d never meant them for me.”
My stomach pitched and I had to press a hand to my mouth to talk myself down from the sudden wave of nausea. I knew all about trinkets that hadn’t been meant for me.
“You can tell yourself he’s different,” she said. “He might be. Until he’s not.”
“Mom—”
“I know you’re happy now, honey, and I’m happy for you. But you have to be smart too. Don’t make my mistakes.”
I let her talk through the rest of her workout, murmuring along as she debated the best months for a wedding and whichwedding planners lived up to their reputations. Through it all, I told myself Ryan was different. I was different.
And this marriage was different too because it wasn’t meant to last.
Or so I’d thought.
“I like this for you,but it’s not going to fit in the chest.” I pulled a dress from the rack and handed it to Jamie. “I have another one in here somewhere that’s sort of a wrap dress, but still fancy. That style might work better for you.”
“I could always stuff my bra,” Jamie said, holding the dresses up to herself and studying her reflection in the walk-in closet mirror. She volunteered with a community arts program and one of their major donors was hosting a special event. “Get some of those rubbery cutlets and shove ’em in there. I might do that just to see some poor dude’s reaction to it at the end of the night.”
“Or you could get the dress altered.”
“It’syourdress,” she cried.
“I don’t mind.” I handed her the wrap dress. “I have more than I could possibly use and I’d rather see you wearing it than leave it to catch dust.”
She gave the mirror a side-eye glance. “Still don’t think I want to get your dress tailored.”
“Try them on,” I said as I heard the house phone ring, “and decide if you like them first. Then we’ll make them fit.”
I grabbed the wall phone in my bedroom and told the building’s concierge to come up with the package they’d received for me. I still kept my things in the upstairs room. I was comfortable up here and Ryan’s schedule was packed withendorsement work, business meetings, and conditioning for the upcoming season. From now until the start of training camp in July, he was on the road four or five nights a week. It made little sense to move myself downstairs, even if the bathtub was exceptional.
I ducked back into the closet—a room almost twice the size of my bedroom in the old North End apartment—and found Jamie frowning at her reflection. The dress was way too big in the chest, but everything else fit perfectly. “I have to run to the door to get a delivery,” I said, “but that’s adorable on you and I’m going to kick and scream if you don’t take it.”
“If only I had your knockers,” she called after me.
“Trust me, you don’t want this kind of trouble,” I shouted back.
A buzz sounded at the door as I descended the stairs. The concierge insisted on bringing it inside for me—it really freaked them out whenever I tried to carry my own packages up from the front desk or the door—and I sent him off with a cranberry macadamia nut cookie.
Audrey had sent me home with a dozen, as if I needed to be alone with that many cookies. I still didn’t know how she found the time to bake something new from scratch every day. I considered it an accomplishment if I made it through without an afternoon nap.
“Anything good?” Jamie asked as she came into the kitchen, one dress slung over her arm.
When I didn’t respond, she pointed to the box on the island. “Oh, I don’t know.” I glanced at the mailing label and realized it was addressed to me. I didn’t remember ordering anything, but that hardly mattered. Not a day went by without us receiving engagement gifts or promotional items from Ryan’s endorsements or yet another soldering iron for Ines. “Not sure,” I murmured, tearing into the package.
Another box sat inside the cardboard box, this one an elegant matte black with a soft satin ribbon and an envelope tucked under the bow. The card wasn’t signed though I had a good idea who it was from.
