“No reason.” She takes a long sip of her drink, but I catch the faint flush creeping up her neck. “Just curious which one had the tattoo on his ribs. The geometric pattern.”
Hannah and I exchange glances. “That was Gunnar,” I confirm. “You were paying attention.”
“I notice things. Doesn’t mean anything.” Izzy shrugs, but she’s fidgeting with her napkin now. “Besides. I have to deal with getting an annulment.”
“An annulment? I’m confused.”
A pained look crosses Izzy’s gray eyes before she blinks it away. “Not having sex with your husband is grounds for an annulment.”
“I don’t know what to say, Izz.”
Hannah takes my sister’s hand. “Preston was the problem, not you. He’s a coward. So we’ll handle the annulment, and one day,when you’re ready, someone’s going to show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
My phone buzzes, and when I look down at the text, dread pools in my gut.
“Why is Dad trying to find you?”
Izzy finishes her bite of bruschetta, the scent of fresh basil and balsamic tempting me. “I’m avoiding him.”
“You didn’t tell them?!” I whisper as if my father can hear me through the phone.
“No. I’m not ready to hear about how I’m a disappointment. Or how the Pembroke-Washes are a fine family with good pedigree. But I married well, and look what that got me.” My sister grabs her phone and stands. “The next man I marry will be for love, and I don’t care if we live in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with no running water and only our hands to catch fish.”
Tilting my head to the side, I laugh despite myself. “Liar. You can’t survive without hot showers.”
My sister nods once at me before heading to the lobby to call our parents, weaving through wingback chairs and modern seating until she disappears.
I’m really proud of her. I know that leaving her husband wasn’t an easy choice. We’ve talked about it off and on these last couple of days, and she’s resolute.
Hannah raises her hand to catch our server’s attention, the hum of patrons mixing with the soft music playing in the background. “Did she just say she’d marry for love next time?”
“Mhmm. I thought she was in love.”
“Me, too. But love can be one-sided, and if you’re not getting anything in return, the loneliness becomes corrosive, chipping away until what’s left is rusted and tarnished.”
I think about that. There was a time in my parents’ marriage when they were distant and bickering a lot. My dad invited mygrandparents to stay with my siblings and me and whisked my mother away to Brooklyn. They stayed in a small rental and toured the five boroughs, just the two of them. Mom later said that opting to fight for their marriage was the most romantic thing Dad had ever done.
If Preston can’t see that Izzy is worth fighting for, then he’s not the guy for her.
Smiling, I glance at the string of playful texts Declan and I have exchanged over the past two days. Each message is a tiny window into who Declan Wilder really is: thoughtful, funny, genuine.
Morning person or night owl?
Do you think Ladybug wants a puppuccino?
Thinking of you.
Hiding these from LB.
Tell me about growing up in Nashville.
You’re wrong. A hot dog is most definitely a sandwich.
Declan isn’t afraid to show me he’s interested.
“You’ve got it bad, Winthrop.” Hannah points at me with an asparagus, waggling her eyebrows.
“Guilty as charged.” I grin back at her. “And for the first time in forever, that doesn’t scare me at all.”
