I laughed, kicking off my trainers. “We’ve been here ten minutes.”
Her muffled voice floated from the pillow. “No, seriously. This is déjà vu. When was the last time we actually shared a room? Barcelona juniors? No wait, it was Germany. Fourteen, fifteen?”
I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to summon the memory. “Oh my God, you’re right. Germany. You kept complaining about the aircon being too cold, and I stole your hoodie.”
She lifted her head, giving me a flat look. “And you snored.”
“Excuse me?” I grabbed the nearest pillow and lobbed it at her. “That was you.”
She caught it one-handed, smirking. “Nope. I remember clearly. I suffered.”
I rolled my eyes, though the corner of my mouth tugged up. “Yeah, well, at least this time I won’t trip over your suitcase at 2 a.m. because you left it in the middle of the floor.”
Cassandra sat up, hugging the pillow to her chest. For a second, her usual sharpness softened. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? All these years later and here we are again. Same setup. Just… older. And with less acne.”
I snorted. “Speak for yourself. I still get breakouts before races.”
She laughed, shaking her head, and for a beat it felt like the years between then and now had folded in on themselves. A knock rattled the door before I could stretch out fully.
“Oi!” Georgia’s voice came muffled through the wood. “Stop being grandmas and come see the setup before the sun goes down.”
Cassandra groaned theatrically, flopping back onto the bed. I rolled my eyes, dragging myself up and unlatching the door. Georgia stood there in shorts and a loose linen shirt, sunglasses pushed into her hair, buzzing with too much energy for someone who just got off a flight.
“Come on,” she said, tugging at my arm. “You haven’t even seen the beach venue yet, it looks insane.”
Cassandra and I followed her down the sandy path, past the villas and toward the open stretch of beach where staff were stringing fairy lights between bamboo poles. It really did look like something out of a magazine spread.
But then my steps faltered.
Not because of the décor, but because of the cluster of familiar faces by the water’s edge. An older man with Olivia’s exact nose and shoulders. An elderly woman fussing over seating arrangements with surprising authority.
My stomach dipped. No. It couldn’t be.
I leaned toward Georgia, keeping my voice low. “Uh… Just curious. Who’s William’s fiancé again?”
Georgia blinked, like it was the easiest question in the world. “Bianca Smythe.”
Before I could answer, Cassandra let out a short laugh, sharp and knowing. “Bianca Smythe? As in…Smythe?” She raised her brows at me, half-smirk playing on her lips. “Well, well. Looks like we just walked into more than a beach party.”
My chest tightened, the sound of waves suddenly too loud in my ears. Bianca Smythe. Which meant… Olivia’s family. Which meant Olivia.Fuck.
The afternoon evaporated in a blur of fabrics and indecision. Georgia had vanished into her room to “curate the perfect tropical-chic vibe,” which left Cassandra and me knee-deep in a pile of fits that I didn’t even remember packing. Apparently, every option was either too formal, too casual, too bright, too boring or, in Cassandra’s words, “too obviously screaming notice-me.”
Easy for her to say. She could’ve worn a potato sack and still looked like a Vogue spread.
Meanwhile, my brain was having a full-scale civil war.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go. Seriously, Cass. I said she’d never have to see my face again, and now I’m about to waltz into her sister’s engagement like nothing happened.”
From the bed, Cassandra snorted, rolling onto her back like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Skipping the party would be worse. Trust me. Cowardice doesn’t look good on you, Cadiz.”
I groaned, pacing the room, heart thudding hard enough to rattle my ribs. “It’s not cowardice. It’s… self-preservation.”
She propped herself up on her elbows. “You can’t control it. But you can show up. And if it gets too much, we’ll sneak out early, find some bar by the beach, and drink until we forget our names.”
I stopped pacing, narrowing my eyes at her. “That’s your grand solution? Hide in a corner until I implode, then get drunk with you?”
She grinned. “Exactly. Tried and tested method.”
