“Ah, ‘fresh for Paris,’” Dani said, half-smiling. “You sound so sophisticated now that you’re married.”
“Don’t worry,petiteDani,” Lucy said with a glance in David’s direction. “Your day will come.”
I pushed food around on my plate. My exchange with David replayed in my head, and I suppressed a smile that was trying to break through. He knew exactly how to draw me in, how to prick the bubble of numbness I lived in.
My thoughts wandered to the previous night. So he and Dani hadn’t slept together. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. It was clear, to me at least, that she wanted it to happen—didn’t he? Knowing how persistent he could be, I wondered what was stopping him.
When I blinked up, David was watching me from across the table. “Eat,” he mouthed, nodding subtly at my plate.
I picked up a strawberry, bit off the end, and licked my lips.
His eyes locked on my mouth as I slowly took another bite and dropped the stem on my plate. He swallowed and stared—hard. I got uncomfortably aroused by the way he watched me.
I jumped when Bill placed his hand on my thigh and squeezed softly. He gave me a reassuring smile. As I tuned back into the conversation, I realized why.
“And so,” Lucy was saying, “I wanted to express regret for those who couldn’t be here to help us celebrate. My aunt and my mother’s sister, Grace, God rest her soul. As well as Olivia’s mentor and good friend, Davena.” I clenched my teeth and concentrated on steady breathing. Lucy’s face contorted as tears welled in her eyes. “Two beautiful women who were taken from us too early.”
She was crying now, along with her mother, and I just sat motionless. Andrew’s mother leaned over and whispered as she rubbed Lucy’s back. I inhaled and tried to wet my eyes as well, but I was drier than Death Valley.
Damn it, Lucy. Why are you bringing Davena into this?
The table looked at me with overwhelming sympathy, including Bill, which bothered me most of all.
“Say something, babe,” he whispered in my ear, and my jaw tensed.
I scooted the chair back suddenly and dropped my napkin on the table. “Excuse me.”
I passed through the kitchen and over to the backyard-facing window. My loss felt private. Perhaps because I hadn’t fully confronted it yet, while everyone else seemed to have moved on. I still needed to process it on my own terms. My eyes scanned the lawn as workers packed up equipment. Davena would’ve actually loved the wedding because she enjoyed all things extravagant and expensive.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said from behind me. I continued staring out the window, watching as men loaded remnants of the night into the back of an event rental truck.
“It’s fine,” I replied.
“I only wanted to honor her memory.”
“I said it’s fine,” I repeated gently.
“What’s wrong, Liv?” she asked. “You never talk about her.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I miss her, but that’s all.”
“What do you miss about her?”
I turned from the window and looked Lucy in the eyes. “She was a good person. She never judged anyone, didn't care what others thought, just lived her life. Davena was always on my side.”
“We’re on your side,” Lucy said. “Everyone wants you to be happy.”
I smiled weakly. “You’re a good friend. Let’s go back before I ruin the weekend.”
“You’re not ruining anything. I just want things to get better,” she said. “I thought they were getting better.”
Even if David hadn’t reopened them, my wounds were still painfully fresh. Something felt off, wrong, with the house in Oak Park and with life in general. But to have David in front of me, to smell him, to look into his eyes—it made my heart race, but in the right way.
“They are,” I assured her finally. “Things are getting better.” It wasn’t at all convincing, but I was so tired of pretending. All the time. It was exhausting. What had David said to me?
“My fear is nothing compared to the agony of keeping this inside. I can’t hide it like you.”
I walked back to the patio without another word, knowing Lucy would follow. Everyone had returned to merry conversation, and nobody noticed our return. Except David, whose eyes fixed on me. I allowed myself a quick glance in his direction. His unreadable expression bothered me, but at least there was no pity in it. He looked almost angry when his gaze shifted over to Bill, who chatted with Lucy’s dad.
