Irritation dissipating in the face of my friends’ obvious love of Edward, Sarah beams like a proud mama and introduces them to her frog.
“He is adorable!”
“I want one!”
“You’d lose it in a week, May.”
“Would not.”
They bicker and gush over Edward, and I take the moment to text August an SOS.
Pen:Your sisters are here. HERE! They know! HALP!
He doesn’t answer. It’s not entirely unexpected. August warned me he’d have his phone silenced at various times throughout his working days. And it became a little... strained between us after the Incident. When he walked me to my bike last night, he reverted to the formality I’ve received from him our whole lives. Okay, notthatformal. But echoes of it returned, and with it, a sense of awkward uncertainty. I responded in kind, determined not to push or cling. I’m the one who drew the boundary lines and this is a job of sorts, after all. If he’s busy with other things, then it’s his right.
But this is different. I’m not going to face this particular fire alone.
May and June have remembered I’m here. Quickly, I pocket my phone. June narrows her eyes but doesn’t mention it. Instead, she smiles with clenched teeth.
“Has August met Edward?”
I narrow my gaze right back at her. “He has.”
“He was very cordial to Edward,” Sarah says, somewhat primly.
“Now, that’s a surprise.” June snickers. “He hates frogs.”
Little traitor.
Sarah scowls. “He does a good job of hiding it.”
“Childhood trauma,” I explain. “It isn’t against Edward personally.”
“Look at her, defending Augie. Isn’t it sweet?”
I refrain from pinching May’s side. Barely. “I was just heading out. Why don’t you two come with me.”
“Where do we put our luggage?”
At June’s query, Sarah’s attention darts to their suitcases. “They can’t stay here! Edward doesn’t like strangers sleeping over.”
Sure, blame Edward. He doesn’t seem to mind when she’s hosting a “friend” for the night. In the entire time I’ve rented here I’ve “hosted” exactly zero guests. Toeing on my sneakers, I grab my purse, and a bag of things I’d stored by the door.
May and June raise their brows at that but remain silent and follow me out.
“Did you rent a car or should I call one?” I ask briskly. Unlike August, they know all about my bike.
“Rental.” June pulls out a set of keys. She hands them to me, stating that I know where to go so it’s better if I just drive.
We don’t say anything else until we’ve stowed our things in the trunk and are headed west on Sunset Boulevard. Golden sunlight streams through the windshield and catches on my ring where I’m holding the wheel. The square-shaped sapphire ring glows in an almost unearthly shade of deep tranquil blue, while the flanking diamonds glitter and gleam. I’m still not used to seeing the ring on my finger, or how utterly beautiful it is.
I’m not the only one who notices. There’s a quiet gasp from the back seat, while June, at my side, makes a strangled noise.
“Holy shit,” she gets out. “You really are engaged.”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I hedge, because she’s looking at the ring as though she’s seen a ghost.
“That there is Nanna Linda’s ring,” June states in awe.
