The double humiliation of his dad’s put-down and this woman witnessing it had been too much for him. But Raffi knew himself somewhat, and so he retreated indoors to gather his wits, along with the new shirt.
With Ani, he’d shared some truth about how much the winery meant to him, that he was still new to this world, and what did he get for opening up? A frown. Judgment from Ani for being a beginner. Well, she should know something about that.
What he hadn’t expected was for her to fight back so hard. She had claws. She knew about him? Had heard about him? Not good, if they were to work together. Especially because he’d belatedly realized—thanks to her words and defenses—how badly he’d insulted her.
Raffi’s brain had been scrambling for how to patch things up, or at least make things cordial again, but instead he’d been bowled over with a brand-new storm.
Raffi didn’t like surprises. Not since he’d woken up in his parents’ house a decade ago to learn that his older brother had died of an aneurysm at a party the night before. No surprise had been as horrifying since, not even close, but he did still get the full-body terror, his blood frosting over, whenever there was any sort of shock, however small.
Seeing Kami again, here, at his father’s winery, engaged, wanting to say her vows on his family’s property…it was all too much.
She bounded over to him, her jewelry softly jingling. Kami then threw her arms around Raffi, wrapping him in some rich jasmine scent, and planted a quick peck on his cheek.
“Raffi!” She beamed, light and airy and oblivious as always.
It had been ten years since he was with Kami. The two ofthem had dated for a year around the end of their senior year of high school and first semester of college, to both of their families’ great joy. The Garabedians and the Mardians merging? Two Armenian houses, similar in dignity, becoming more than friends? Their parents’ dream. And Raffi, young fool that he was, thought he was in love. He’d only dated casually and not much, considering that he didn’t finish growing until his senior year of high school. But then he’d had a bit of a glow-up, and Kami, who had been some version of a goddess all the years he’d known her, was suddenly interested. It was like a dream come true.
They went to different colleges, but he’d drive up to hers on the weekends to see her for a few hours—sweaty-palmed and hopeful, feeling like the luckiest guy alive when she opened her dorm room door wearing one of her lacy dresses and kissed him like he was the only person in the world.
Looking back, he could see it for what it was: high-gloss attraction dressed up as intimacy. Kami had this way about her—charming, magnetic, adding brilliance to every room she entered. It was easy to mistake that glow for closeness.
Kami had dumped him because she said she still had to“find herself.” Then, two weeks later, Sev died, and all Kami did was send a text that read, “I’m so sorry about Sev. Sending you strength.” After a year of dating! After declaring their love for each other—a first not only for him but supposedly for her, too. After their families kept joking-not-joking with them about when the engagement was going to be. After Raffi seriously considered what type of ring Kami would like. That perfunctory text was all he got. It confirmedto him that everyone had left and no one would be there for him.
He mostly avoided Kami at family-friend functions, and Kami was always traveling anyway, so he’d managed to escape her presence for several years.
And yet. Kami studied him now with a smile so full of kindness, like she was really, actually happy to see him again, that despite himself, he felt a little bit happy to see her, too.
“Bro,” she crooned. “I haven’t seen you in forever. And now I’m here, like this!” She stuck out her hand for him to inspect the ring. Emerald cut, approximately three carats, he’d estimate, thin band to fit her dainty finger, white gold or platinum. Very tasteful and, for her, modest.
Raffi appraised Grace in a new light, too. Grace, lithe and attractive, seemed slower moving, more thoughtful than the rapid rabbit beating heart of Kami. Probably a good combination, those two. Hopefully Grace knew what she was in for.
Something was happening, though; he felt the energy of it before he had a chance to visually take it in.
Kami’s eyes widened as she took in Ani. And Ani? That girl who had held her own with Raffi moments before, fearlessly sparring with him, now shrunk in Kami’s presence.
“What’re you doing here?” Ani blurted, turning a shade almost as deep as her nail polish.
The statement was almost rude, accusatory, but mostly full of shock.
Kami flicked Grace’s arm. “You silly, you didn’t tell me you were gettingAnito plan the wedding, oh my God!”
Grace’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. This isAniAni? Oops. I knewit was a popular Armenian name, but I didn’t connect the dots—are you okay with—?”
What did “AniAni” mean? Was this Ani famous? But then why was Grace apologizing? And why were Ani’s shoulders hunched like that?
Inexplicably, Kami’s eyes lit up in response to her fiancée. “Of course I am! No hard feelings, right? Besides, Ani, you’re going to beperfect. You totally get me and my style.”
Ani did not seem to return the excitement. At all.
Raffi gave a polite chuckle. “Not to be all nosy Armenian auntie, but I feel like I’m the only one out of the loop here. Mind filling me in?”
All three women turned to him.
Kami appeared delighted as she said, “We’re exes, duh. Just like us.”
What the—? Kami and Ani were exes, and everyone seemed all right with that? Well, he shouldn’t sayeveryone. Ani was clearly not okay. Raffi was trying to put together the implications of this when Kami continued.
“Wait, Grace, you knew about me and Raffi, right? Except we barely counted, we were such babies back then. Little eighteen-year-olds.”
