Manhattan shone over the river as James undressed me until I stood naked in front of the window. It was the moststunning skyline I’d ever seen—even compared to Vegas. Vegas was great, but sometimes too many lights could be a bad thing. Manhattan illuminated the cool winter night, the city that never slept sprawling out in front of us like a whole world of new possibilities.
Too bad we never left the hotel room.
My heart beganto race as the front door swung open. Even after all these years, and for different reasons, Erin could still intimidate me.
“Hi Ryder.” She stepped aside, welcoming me in.
She’d been in the office today, judging by her tailored chocolate-colored slacks and a cream sweater, but she’d been home long enough to switch her shoes for fluffy pink slippers and tie her brown waves away from her face. She led me through the stark white living room, where a fire crackled in the fireplace. The show on the TV was muted, the actors moving silently across the screen. I followed Erin into the kitchen.
“Can I get you a drink?” she asked. Then, noticing the bottle of scotch in my hand, added, “Or open that?”
“I have to drive,” I told her, “but you and Ben can have as much as you want.”
Erin pulled two glasses from the cabinet and offered me a bottle of water from the fridge. “Liquoring us up?” she teased. “What do you want?”
“What might possibly be a big favor, but it’s not just for me.”
“Is that what I think it is?” Ben swept into the room, fresh from a shower. He snatched the glass from his wife and downed the liquid in one go. He hummed, holding the empty glass out ina silent demand for more. “Ryder, if you keep bringing this stuff around, I’ll have to divorce Erin and marry you.”
“You’d drink yourself to death before the ink is dry on the papers,” Erin said. Still, she refilled his glass and motioned for us toward the living room.
I followed, wishing Icouldpartake in the scotch they were drinking. They settled onto one beige couch, Erin kicking her slippers off and folding her legs underneath her. Ben slouched back in his seat, practically inhaling his scotch. I took a deep breath…
“When did you two get married?” I asked, noticing a picture from their wedding on the wall. Erin stood in a white satin dress, Ben in a black tux, his hair much more pepper than salt back then. Hannah was between them, in a frilly white dress of her own with an ear-to-ear grin on her face. She couldn’t have been more than five or six, and her two front teeth were missing.
“Okay,” Erin said, drawing out the word, “that’s not where I expected this conversation to go.”
“It’s relevant, I promise.”
The two shared a sweet, intimate smile and launched into the story, starting at the beginning.
They met in freshman orientation at college and were smitten right away. Erin gave birth to Hannah during their spring term, and once he was able to move off campus, Ben got a place for the three of them and asked Erin to marry him. They agreed to finish school first, which gave them all the time they needed to plan the perfect wedding. After they graduated, Erin went back to school for her master’s degree. The spring that Hannah turned five, they finally tied the knot in a ceremony overlooking Central Park. Hannah was the flower girl and Erin’s only bridesmaid.
Ben recounted the reception, recalling fondly that Hannah got into the cake before they could cut it. While he spoke,Erin pulled a pillowy, white photo album from the bottom of a bookshelf.
“Come over here,” she said, sliding to the middle of the couch and patting the space next to her. She untied the satin ribbon that held the book shut and flipped through the pictures. They were arranged backward, from the reception to the ceremony, and ending with Erin and Ben getting ready that morning.
“Remember the meltdown I had over my hair?” Ben said, scrubbing his pink-flushed cheeks.
“Oh, I do,” Erin confirmed. “Forgetbridezilla; grooms are the real monsters.”
“I wasn’t that bad!”
“So that’snotwhy you nearly took your brother’s hand off?”
“He deserved it,” Ben grumbled. “I need a refill.”
“You know what? Nathan probably did deserve it. He’s an ass.”
I snickered, Ben left to refill his glass, and Erin turned the page.
She gasped. “Don’t tell Ben, but this is my favorite picture that was taken that day.”
Ben re-entered the room, glancing down at the picture. “I love that one.”
The black-and-white picture showed a young Hannah wearing Erin’s white satin wedding dress. It was so long that she stood on a stool, looking at herself in the mirror. The train trailed out behind her. Someone had curled her hair, and the shadow of blush tinted her cheeks. I couldn’t help the smile that tugged my lips.
“How do you feel about her being married?” Erin asked me.
