“Not even Kyle Medley?” I asked, smiling to myself as I took another sip. “Come on, you said the same thing about him in college.”
“You’ve had enough,” Gretchen said, reaching for my drink.
I recoiled, sloshing pink liquid on my dress. “Damn,” I muttered, swiping at the stain.
“Kyle Medley meant nothing,” Lucy said calmly. “I didn’t know what love was until I met Andrew.”
I blinked at her once and then burst into laughter. Lucy had been lovesick over her last college boyfriend, Kyle. When he’d dumped her, she’d skipped a family reunion in Hawaii so she could stay in bed and wallow over how she’d thought he was going to propose. “Lucy, do you hear yourself?” I asked. “You’re just saying all this because to admit otherwise would mean you could be marrying anyone right now. Including Kyle Medley.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Dani said.
“I’m making perfect sense! If instead of dumping you, Kyle had proposed, you would have said yes.” I cocked my head. “Hence, the eradication of the soulmates theory. At the time, you thought he was your soulmate. And if you and Andrew broke up and you met someone else, you’d say he was your soulmate.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth,” Lucy said. “I never thought Kyle Medley was ‘the one.’”
My face scrunched under the weight of my skepticism. “Okay,” I said, holding up a hand. “If that’s your story.”
Lucy’s face etched with worry when she looked from her sister to Gretchen. “So are you saying that Bill isn’t your soulmate?” she asked me after a moment.
“I’m saying the whole ludicrous idea doesn’t exist.” I nodded firmly. “And Bill would agree with me.”
“So what do you suggest, that nobody ever get married?” Dani asked, not bothering to hide her disdain.
“What?No,” I said emphatically. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Just don’t make it into something it’s not. Obviously, Bill and I love each other, and we’re happy, and we’re building this life together—but to say that it’s this fairy-tale romance where we make love on a bed of rose petals every night, I mean . . . that’s what Lucy wants.”
“No, I don’t,” she said. “But Andrew and I share something pure that neither of us could experience with someone else. Romance isn’t exclusive to sex. And even as we get older or fight or have kids, we’ll still have that passion for only each other.”
I only raised my eyebrows and gripped the table when the room undulated suddenly.
“She’s crazy,” Dani said softly about me, but I heard her anyway. “Don’t listen to a word of her horseshit ‘advice.’”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Dani,” I said, swaying slightly. “How long have you been married?”
Lucy gawked at me. “Liv.”
“No, she’s right.” Dani pursed her lips at me. “I’m not married. None of us are.”
I gave the table a hard nod and pointed to Dani. “See? She knows I have a point.”
“I’m calling you a cab,” Gretchen said, digging in her purse.
“Don’t make me the bad guy, Gretchen,” I pleaded, suddenly upset that nobody understood. “I’m just trying to be honest. It doesn’t mean I love Bill any less or that I’m not happy. I am happy. I just want Lucy to be happy, too.”
Lucy came to sit next to me, enfolding us in a lavender cloud as she hugged me. “I know,” she said, squeezing my shoulders. “Nobody thinks you’re the bad guy. Everyone is happy.”
“Good,” I said. “You smell nice.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Thank you.”
“Do you want me to call her a cab?” Gretchen asked, ignoring me.
“Actually, I think it might be time to call it a night,” Lucy said. “I don’t want to be puffy on Sunday.”
We all emphatically agreed that we did not want to be puffy for the wedding, either, so Ava and Bethany went to hail cabs while Lucy left for the restroom.
“You know, you really should keep your marital problems to yourself,” Dani said to me as we settled the bill. “Lucy doesn’t need to hear that a couple days before she walks down the aisle.”
“I don’t have marital problems,” I said, eyeing her.
