I shrug my shoulders. “You’re my brother’s partner.”
“Right.”
“I’m also divorced. And I’d like to think that if I wanted to avoid my ex, that someone would help me, too.”
“Sounds like your divorce was more amicable than mine.”
“Didn’t feel that way at the time,” I reply. “But it’s been five years. I’ve moved on.”
Isla sighs. “Wish my ex would do the same.”
I already know the answer thanks to Spencer’s Isla Covington info dump a few weeks ago, but I don’t want to stop talking to her. “How long has it been?”
“We separated last year,” she whispers as I finally reach the door, getting us outside without being spotted. I turn right, walking in the opposite direction from where they sit in front of one of the windows. “Everyone thought I’d change my mind. Because who wouldn’t want the future CEO of Covington-Randolph Transportation? A Yale graduate. As if that’s all that matters in life—letters next to your name and zeros at the end of your bank account.”
I still at her words, surprised to hear the sentiment coming from a Covington. Isla complained to me about her family when we were kids, the way her parents paid more attention to their family business and social obligations than to their children. They had expectations, none of which had anything to do with their kids’ actual dreams. It was the complaining all teenagers did about their parents. I didn’t expect to hear that sentiment from her now. It’s turning everything I assumed abouther on its head.
I stop walking once we pass Hidden Gem Bakery next door, and ease Isla off my back, holding onto her until her feet hit the ground.
“He must be a prick,” I say.
She huffs a laugh. “You could say that, at least at the end. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t notice before.”
“Or you were so in love with him that your brain wouldn’t let you see it?”
She turns to me, surprise etched into every inch of her expression. “It’s either that, or I actively ignored clear red flags. I’m not sure what’s worse — my brain tricking me, or refusing to see what’s in front of my face. Either way, I’m to blame, and it makes it hard to trust my own judgment.”
I scratch the back of my neck. “It’s easy to see everything that went wrong after it’s over. It’s a lot harder to see in the moment.”
“It sounds like you’re talking from experience.”
I shrug. “I didn’t see it coming. But after she told me she wasn’t happy, it was the last puzzle piece that made a fuzzy picture come into focus. Something wasn’t right, but I could always explain it away as something we could fix.”
“Yeah,” she replies with a shallow nod. “Work. Distance.”
“Family obligations,” I add to her list. “Exhaustion. Burnout.”
Isla and I stare at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. We know what it’s like to havetherelationship of our lives collapse, to sift through the shrapnel, wondering what the hell happened. It’s not something someone can understand unless they’ve also been through it. No words can describe the loss of your anchoring relationship, your supposed forever.
“Thanks for helping me,” she says softly.
“Sure.”
I can still feel her soft skin against mine, her body pressing into me, the tickle of her breath on my ear. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget it.
Spencer and Thea crash through the café doors. It breaks the spell between us in the nick of time, before I do something stupid like ask if she remembers meeting a boy fourteen years ago at a skating competition. They’re laughing hysterically, inadvertently walking into each other as they lose all composure.
My first thought is that I haven’t seen Thea look this happy since she arrived. My second thought is that I shouldn’t have left these two up to their own devices.
“That wasawesome,” Spencer says as he reaches us, his breathing finally under control. “I should’ve been an FBI agent.”
“You collected to-go boxes and packed up our food,” I say under my breath.
To my shock, Isla snorts.
“Yeah, without being caught.” His eyes dance with amusement. “Thea made the whole plan come together. That second song choice.” Spence puts his fingers to his lips and kisses them with an enunciatedmwahsound.
I’m afraid to ask.
