“My legs did not get me into this mess. Your collective betrayal got me into this mess.” I snatched the dress anyway. It was pretty, and I hadn’t worn it since... well, since before the divorce.
“It wasn’t betrayal,” Allie protested. “It was intervention. You two have been making moon eyes at each other across town for years.”
“I have not been making moon eyes at anyone.” I disappeared into the bathroom to try on the dress, my voice echoing off the tiles. “And I haven’t even seen him in over a year.”
“Which didn’t stop you from asking his sister about him every chance you got,” Jess called through the door.
I yanked the dress over my head. “I was being polite!”
“Polite is asking once,” Meghan countered. “You had a spreadsheet of questions.”
“It was not a spreadsheet.” I emerged from the bathroom, smoothing down the fabric. “It was a mental checklist.”
All three of them stopped talking at once. Allie whistled low.
“What? Is it too much? Not enough? Should I change?” My hands fluttered nervously at my sides.
“DeLuca,” Allie said slowly, “he’s going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.”
Meghan nodded, already reaching for my makeup bag. “Sit. We’re not done with you yet.”
I sank into the chair at my vanity, stomach twisting into knots. “This is just dinner. Just... closure.”
Jess snorted. “Sure. And I’m just running a lemonade stand.”
“You guys don’t understand.” I caught Jess’s eyes in the mirror as Meghan started working on my face. “Rhett and I... we didn’t work. We wanted different things.”
“What do you want now?” Jess asked, suddenly serious as she leaned against the doorframe.
The question hung in the air, and I didn’t have an answer.
I let Meghan finish my makeup, trying to ignore the weight of Jess’s question. What did I want now? The truth was too complicated, too raw to voice aloud.
“Honestly? I don’t know what I want.” I kept my eyes fixed on my reflection as Meghan applied a subtle swipe of eyeliner. “I just know what I didn’t want back then—to be married to someone who was never there.”
“He’s here now,” Allie pointed out, passing Meghan a tube of mascara.
“For how long?” The words came out sharper than I intended. “Until the next deployment? Until the next time he volunteers for extra shifts? Until the next time he runs into a burning building, and I’m left wondering if he’s coming home?”
The room fell silent. I hadn’t meant to reveal so much. These feelings belonged locked in the box where I’d stuffed them after signing the divorce papers.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “That wasn’t fair.”
Jess sat on the edge of my bed. “Fair to who? Him or you?”
I sighed. “Both, I guess.”
Deep down, in that place I refused to acknowledge, lived a stubborn, foolish hope. A hope that whispered maybe we could try again. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe we could be what I’d always believed we could be—partners, lovers, best friends who built a life together instead of living parallel ones.
But that voice was dangerous. That voice didn’t remember the nights I’d spent alone, worrying. The birthdays and anniversaries he’d missed. The way I’d slowly become a stranger in my own marriage.
“All done,” Meghan announced, stepping back to admire her work.
I stood, smoothing my dress again. “Thanks, guys. For everything. Even the unauthorized bidding.”
“So you admit it was a good idea?” Allie grinned.
“I admit nothing.” I checked the time. “It’s just dinner. Just... catching up with an old friend.”
