I laugh. “Seriously, that will be a while. I’ve just started up again.”
Impulsively, I quickly text her the picture of the horseback riding painting that I showed Sophia. “Show them this if you’d like.”
She looks at the text coming across her screen. “This is great, Lei. You’re sure I can show it around?”
I nod. “I guess so.”
“Cool.”
June makes a circle in the air with her index finger. “Returning to the reason you came by—I love you, so I have to say this bluntly—don’t go through with the wedding if your heart’s not in it, Leleila.” Her words sound suspiciously like a warning. “Don’t end up like Mom and Dad, sleeping with a microscope between you. That life works for them because they share a passion for science. But it will never work for you, and you know I’m right. When all you have left between you and Phillip is a microscope, your life’s going to feel awfully cold.”
“I have to…take some time,” I say shakily. “I need to think.”
“I know.” Her voice is unusually gentle. “But make sure you listen to your heart first and foremost. You know that, though.”
“I’m trying.” I stand up slowly. “Thanks for the talk. I’ll see you later.”
Before leaving the store, I stop into the bathroom.
It’s while I’m washing my hands that I realize.
My ring’s gone.
I peer into the sink in a panic. I pull up the drain plug and look in. I return to the bathroom stall and look all over the tiled floor. I even look into the toilet.
Nothing. No hint of red string anywhere. It’s like it vanished into thin air sometime after I said goodbye to Phillip.
I curse myself for not noticing that the knot was loosening. I should have asked Phillip to retie it before he left for his trip. Or I could have put fabric glue on the worn section. But Phillip said it was a forever knot. He promised it was a forever knot, and I believed him. I believed him so much that I ignored the signs—the fraying of the string between my ring finger and pinkie, the way the knot looked different this week than it had during the past six months. It didn’t look like it was coming undone, exactly; it just looked…different.
It’s not too late. I can go to the convenience store down the street and buy some red string and make a substitute ring. I leave the bathroom hurriedly, only to be waylaid by June asking me to hold the door open while a delivery is wheeled in.
Fifteen minutes later, I finally reach the parking lot and start walking toward my car. Before I unlock my door, I spot a familiar-looking figure standing outside his truck. His head is hat-free, and his dirty blond hair blows lightly in the breeze. His worn jeans hug his ass snugly, and his muscles are lean and hard beneath his thin shirt.
Everything is forgotten. Everything but him.
Impulsively, I walk closer.
“Hey, Brayden,” I call out.
He turns around, his eyes lighting up as he sees me. “Hey, Leleila. How are you?”
As usual, he doesn’t ask in that cursory greeting so many people use where they don’t really want to know the answer. He asks like he’s honestly interested.
And for the second time today, I really want to tell someone.
“Do you have a minute?” I ask him.
He holds up the paper bag in his hand. “I was going to eat lunch. I’ve got a giant turkey sandwich I picked up at the café and a cup of fries. It’s plenty for two. You want to join me?”
“Um…”
His bright eyes lock with mine. “Look, we said we’d be friends, hang out as friends until your wedding.”
I lick my lips. “Brayden…”
But he doesn’t give me a chance to overthink it. The blue in his eyes just gets clearer, and he nods with far more assurance than I have. “Just friends hanging out. You can tell me what’s got you looking sadder than usual.”
I tug at the strap of my purse. “Sure. Let’s go eat.”
