A large, all-consuming smile overtook my face as I blushed.
“Actually,that’swhy. That smile right there,” he said quietly, running his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “I’ll be right back.”
He gently righted my body, steadying me when I swayed slightly. His kiss still had that effect on me.
When he turned away, I was hit by a familiar glare from the patio of a café across the street. Bill, my now ex-husband, sat at a small table with Lucy and Andrew. I froze as his eyes bored into me and sent a chill down my spine.
I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t seen Bill—or Lucy—in almost two years. From the outside, he hadn’t really changed. But did he feel like a new person the way I did?
Bill finally blinked and turned back to Lucy, who appeared to be mid-story as she gestured in Bill’s direction. Andrew rubbed her back as she spoke. She wore her hair even shorter than she used to, whereas I’d let mine grow. They all broke out in laughter simultaneously, and my heart tugged. For a moment, I entertained the thought of going over to say hello, but what would be the point? I had nothing new to say to them, and I doubted they wanted to see me.
I’d reached out to Lucy once more since I’d read the e-mail she’d sent the day David had proposed, but nothing had come of it. It’d taken a while for me to grasp, but I eventually realized that for her, the friendship was over. She and Gretchen had made up and remained close, so I heard bits and pieces of Lucy’s life that way. I could see, even from a distance, that she was happy, but I still missed her friendship.
Bill, on the other hand, had made it hard to miss him. The six months David and I had waited for my divorce had been grueling. Though David had assured me he was fine keeping our engagement a secret, I’d wanted him to know how proud I was to wear his ring. Bill didn’t hide his disgust at the news. Fortunately, he and David never laid hands on each other again, but there were times I’d thought David would push Bill through the wall for the way he’d spoken to us during the proceedings. A year and a half had passed since we’d seen him, but from the look in his eyes just now, nothing was yet forgiven. It made me all the more sure that I’d made the right decision.
Not that I need any reassuring.
David exited the grocery store with a big smile, his aviators locked on me, his gait leisurely and confident. An attractive woman did a double take as she passed him. She turned and lowered her sunglasses to get a better look. My chest swelled with pride as she checked out my man, but I couldn’t help laughing a little when she stumbled over a curb.
“Manchego,” David said, holding up the block of cheese. “Crisis averted.”
“My superhero,” I said.
He leaned over and picked up all the bags, including mine. “Let’s get this party underway.”
As we walked away, I shot one last glance at the table of friends. They made a good group and seemed happy. I couldn’t be upset about that. I stuck my hand into David’s back pocket, and we made our own heavenly way back home.
In the car, as we pulled up to the house, I smiled. I always did. David’s vision, with some input from me, had blossomed before our eyes. The sylvan paradise had come to life again—or maybe for the first time, I wasn’t sure. The newly fixed stone walkway led a natural path to the front door through green grass, and a revived, leafy landscape.
Before David had taken the six-month job in New York, he’d warned me that I might not like his overly “masculine” apartment in the city. I’d teased him thatmasculinewas code for bachelor pad. To both our surprise, I’d fallen immediately in love with it. Unlike his bright, white Chicago apartment, New York was dark and woodsy, with exposed brick walls and dim, yellow lighting. The vintage furniture was heavy leather and oak, worn but solid.
I’d suggested we decorate our house somewhere in between the two places. Sliding glass doors lent themselves to good lighting, especially in the mornings, but the wood-heavy home, earthy and sturdy, reminded me of David, which I loved most of all.
It was a perfect Chicago night for a party. David opened up all the doors and windows for the setting sun. I’d almost finished laying out a buffet of food on a table in the backyard when a knock came at the front door. David and I met in the entryway, the same spot I’d told him over two years before that Bill had put in an offer on this very house. We kissed quickly.
“We can see you,” David’s sister called as she peered through a vertical window that ran alongside the front door.
David opened the door and groaned. Equipped with margarita mix, wine, whiskey, and other assortments of alcohol, stood our friends and family: Jessa, her son Alex, Gretchen, Brian, Mack and Cooper—who’d become friends—and David’s parents, Judy and Gerard. Just past them, Serena and her fiancé, Brock, climbed out of his car.
“Well, baby,” David said, looking down at me, “I’d say we have extremely punctual friends.”
They all piled in at once, and David assumed bartending duties. They were a rowdy bunch, and sometimes they were weird, but I couldn’t complain. I loved them.
“In honor of David and me returning from our recent trip to Spain, we’re having tapas,” I announced in the backyard. I gestured to the expansive spread. “Help yourselves.”
“So?” Jessa asked, linking her arm with mine. “How was the honeymoon?”
I smiled wistfully and attempted to think of a word that could possibly do it justice. “Magical,” I decided, every detail of the memory clear.
I waved back at David—myhusband—from a beach towel. He looked sexier than ever, perched on his surfboard, waiting for the water to swell. His stomach flexed into a delicious six-pack. Riveted, I watched as he caught a wave, fluidly hopping onto his shortboard and riding it down the line.
I reclined back onto my towel, inserted my earbuds, and closed my eyes to soak in the hot Spanish sun. Cool drops of water punctured my relaxed state. I opened one eye and squinted up at David.
“I couldn’t help noticing you from the water,” he said. “Mind if I join you?”
“Actually,” I purred, “I was thinking of taking a dip myself.”
He set his board down next to me and held out his hand. I took out my earbuds and let him hoist me up with one pull.
