“I don’t think I ever loved him.” She sways back and forth on the bench, knees hugged to her chest.
“Really?”
“Don’t you know if you love someone?” she asks me.
My thoughts automatically turn to Logan. Of his cheek on mine after we make love, of his smile whenever we say good-bye afterward, of his tongue in my mouth and his hands on my back right before he unhooks my bra and…
“I can’t believe you just let him go like that.” Riley’s watching me carefully.
I start, and my face flushes with heat.
She’s still looking at me. “Tell me again—why did you two want to divorce? Before the Manhattan Barbie entered the picture, why did you and Logan decide you couldn’t stay married?”
“Because I can’t have Logan, Riles. We’ve never dated, and there’s a reason for that, millions of reasons…”
“Oh, really?” she interrupts me. “Just what are those reasons, exactly? ‘Cause I don’t think I’ve ever heard them.”
“Logan’s my best friend. With great benefits. But we weren’t meant to settle together permanently. And not that it matters, since I’m not in the market for a husband, but I think a woman should marry a man who doesn’t get under her skin and drive her absolutely nuts.”
“From my experience, if a man drives you nuts, he’s got your attention,” Riley says.
“I’m not a squirrel,” I say jokingly.
“Wow. No wonder you’re single.”
“But seriously, Riles, being single does not signify that you’re flawed. For you or me.”
She bites her lip. “I guess so.”
“You’re an amazing woman with or without a man,” I say to her. “We don’t need a partner to define us. I mean, look at the figurehead of our town—Jane Austen. She died single but a published writer. Of course, because she was a woman her writings were released anonymously, so she didn’t get to enjoy her success. But then after she died, her name finally became known so she became super famous and supposedly found her soul mate.”
“So Jane Austen is your benchmark for success on the earthly plane.” Riley rolls her eyes. “Wait till you’re dead to achieve your dreams. Nice motto, Mace.”
“I don’t know! I just—I’m never going to be a wife. Again,” I say firmly when she giggles. “Some women make great wives, and some don’t. And Logan apparently wants the whole nine yards—wife, kids, and stupid picket fence. All the things that would trap me silly. We made the decision to divorce together. Before Gigi, we had already suggested we start seeing other people.”
“You guys are pathetic.” Riley glares at me. “The pair of you, honestly. Wink and I dated for years, and we have nothing of substance between us other than not wanting to be alone. But you and Logan have all this meaningfulness between you, and now it’s too late to do anything about it. I mean seriously!”
I purse my lips and don’t answer her.
Because she’s right. It’s too late for Logan and me. And I need to emblazon that concept into my brain and stop reminiscing about waking up on the couch with him this morning. No matter how close I felt to him last night, the only thing I should be doing right now is preparing my heart to say good-bye to him on July fourth.
65
I leave my SUV where it is and walk over to the party alone.
Riley’s not coming. After we talked, I sat with her while she called Wink. She told him she knew about the girl in Austin. And the cheating coward dumped her.
I offered to hang out with her and skip the party, but we both knew I needed to make an appearance. So, I told her to go get a massage and eat plenty of ice-cream on Wink’s credit card.
I wish I could join her. I can’t imagine something less appealing to me in the world than attending Logan Wild’s engagement party and plastering a smile on my face for what feels like the hundredth time this summer.
Ben’s here just like he promised. I head over to him at the edge of the lake as I avoid the reporters and cameras that sprinkle the shoreline. Everyone wants to catch a glimpse of the supposed hero and heroine of Darcy.
“You want to talk more about a business plan for The Cowherd?” I say to Ben as I sit down and face the water.
“Are you sure this is a good place to be talking about this?” he asks me.
“Why not? Let’s hash it out.”
