“Hanna,” he sighed. “I really don’t want to hash shit out today, okay?”
He parked the car, shutting the door a little harder than necessary. She followed him into the grocery store, trying to keep up with his long legs. He didn't bother to see if she was with him as he made a beeline for the beauty section, searching the aisles for deodorant and stopping at the pinkest shelf.
“Which one?”
Goddamn, she’d never really seen him pissy before and resented that she was enjoying how much sharper his jawline looked when he was mad. Leaning toward the shelf, he flicked at the boxes and accidentally knocked one over. He let out a sigh.
Hanna grabbed the brand Sara had been using for a good ten years. Even if it was a ruse, it didn’t hurt to be prepared. She jumped one aisle over and grabbed a toothbrush as Milo disappeared into the liquor aisle. She was next in line when he showed up beside her with a bottle of whiskey.
Hanna made a mental note that when the wine betrayed her that weekend, he had a stash. She paid for the deodorant and toothbrush, he paid for the liquor, and they continued back to the car without a word.
She could wait for him.
He drove the opposite direction from the winery.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
Milo snorted. “Yes, I know where I’m going.”
“So then, you know that the DeBrunes’ house is that way?”
She leaned her head to the right, motioning with her thumb.
He muttered, “We’re not going back to the DeBrunes’.”
“Huh, well,” she sighed, trying to maintain a pleasant tone. “I didn’t have kidnapped-by-my-ex-boyfriend on the itinerary today, but I guess I’ve got some time to kill before the rehearsal dinner.”
The air between them tightened. She’d fucked up. Any other day and he might have laughed it off.
Milo bit, “Oh. So now I’m your ex-boyfriend? And not just your ex-guy-you’re-fucking?”
He turned down an old street that was peppered with mid-century facades, all-brick columns, and ornate hanging plants swaying in the early fall breeze. It was all so charming and, if she wasn't being dragged through it against her will, she'd have stopped to enjoy it.
Milo swung the car into a parking lot facing the town square crowned with a lush green park and a perfect little gazebo with blossoming rose bushes.
Milo opened her door. “Are you coming?”
She looked at him, unsure if he still wanted her to tag along.
“Coming where?”
“Just, please? Okay?” Milo huffed. He held out a hand, helping her out of the car, and pointed across the street, exasperated.
Hanna followed his hand, her chest tightening.
Even the chairs at The Sunflower Café were bright yellow. The patio bustled with late afternoon snackers, a soft and mellow playlist strumming from the open doors.
She’d been to Sonoma with Logan a dozen times, but they’d never wandered this way.
“Milo—”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Any of it. I don’t need to hear about how much better you’re doing, or how you found yourself or whatever the fuck, or how you and Logan are happy now?—”
Hanna laughed, unable to stop herself.
“What are you talking about?”
Milo glared. “Logan and you are back together, aren’t you?”
