Elena and I had found ourselves drawn into it albeit through no fault of our own. But it hadn't turned out to be a bad thing. If anything, we were more comfortable because of it, and Anna had gone into remission, which was more than we could have ever hoped for.
"Sounds terrifying," I said honestly.
Meredith smiled. "It can be. But you get used to it."
"I don't think I would."
"You're stronger than you think, Ivy." Elena's voice was firm. "Look at everything you've survived. Jordan, your parents, all the shit you've dealt with. You're still here. Still fighting."
I blinked back the sudden sting in my eyes.
"Thanks."
The technician finished my nails carefully, the gorgeous deep plum that Sofia had picked suited me perfectly. I admired them while the conversation flowed around me, grateful for the distraction these women provided.
But even as I laughed at Sofia's stories and contributed to Meredith's baby name brainstorming, part of my mind stayed stuck on Eric.
On the way he'd looked at me.
On the question he'd asked.Did you move on?
I hadn't answered. Couldn't answer. Because the truth was complicated and messy and I didn't want to think too much about it.
Because the truth was that no, I hadn't really moved on. I'd dated, sure. Tried to find something that felt even half as good as what Eric and I had shared. But nothing stuck. Nothing lasted.
And maybe that was my fault. Maybe I was still holding onto something that had never been as real as I'd thought.
Or maybe Eric Hale had ruined me for anyone else, and I'd spent four years trying to pretend otherwise.
"Ivy?" Elena's voice pulled me back. "You okay?"
I realized I'd been staring at my wine glass, lost in thought.
"Yeah. Sorry. Just tired."
She didn't look convinced, but she let it go.
Meredith was quick to jump in. "Stay over tonight. We've got plenty of guest rooms. Elena and Sof are staying, you stay too."
"I might take you up on that." The idea of going home to my empty apartment held zero appeal.
"Please do." Meredith smiled. "We're planning to do face masks and watch terrible reality TV. Very low key."
"That sounds perfect."
And it did. Exactly what I needed after the disaster of tonight.
So why couldn't I stop thinking about Eric's eyes? About the way his voice had dropped when he'd asked if we could talk?
About the part of me that had wanted to say yes?
4
ERIC
The conference room in the Donati building screamed old money and older power. Dark wood paneling, expensive leather chairs, and windows overlooking downtown Ironstone like the city belonged to whoever sat at this table.
Which, from what I knew, it did.
