She pulls it out of the color-coded stack.
“Oh, wow. How far back did you go?”
She slurps down a bite of pasta before answering. “All the way to her birth, which was in Alabama, by the way. Luke was born before her, but I can’t figure out where.”
I stare at some more recent pictures, one with Luke and Fallon leaning in close to smile for a photo next to the big Christmas tree in New York City. He has his arm around her. They look phenomenal together, one of those couples whose kids will be tiny little model babies.
The queasiness inside my belly only gets worse, the longer we sift through the stack. Becky is giving me Fallon and Luke’s entire life story.
They went to homecoming together.
He played football. She was a cheerleader.
He graduated two years before her, but they saw each other at every major holiday in the next two years while Luke was in the Navy.
“Okay . . . Becky, I guess I’ve seen all I need to see.”
I push away the paper, grabbing a breadstick and shoving half of it in my mouth. At least I can eat for comfort and happiness because all men are trash.
This is what you get for hooking up with a stranger at a bar!
Her eyes widen as she finishes off her last bite of pasta and orders tiramisu for dessert.
“What? Kate, no! I haven’t told you the best part yet!”
She smiles at me, pulling out the last folder from her suitcase-sized handbag on the booth.
“What’s the best part?” I ask, thinking that even if I won a million dollars right now, it would be like adding sprinkles to a pile of dog shit and calling it dessert.
She flips over the folder labeledThe Best Partand shows me a picture of Fallon smiling next to another man. He’s tall like Luke, but he has short blonde hair and pale grey eyes.
“Okay . . . who’s this guy? Her brother?”
They don’t really look alike, but aside from Becky thinking I could maybe get with him—which would never happen, considering I slept with his sister’s fiancé—I don’t see the silver lining.
Becky throws her head of curls back, laughing hysterically. “Oh, Kate, you are too funny. No, silly,Lukeis Fallon’s brother!Thisis her fiancé, Garrison!”
I stare at Becky’s elated expression for another five seconds. She starts to flip through the pages of Fallon pictured with the blonde guy. I can see that they are clearly an item.
It’s like a beacon of light shines upon me as I realize that all the photos going back, documenting Luke and Fallon, were completely platonic. They were sibling poses, awkward and like they were annoyed with each other. The ones of Fallon and Garrison are romantic. They even have a full engagement shoot in the Bahamas, featuring the enormous ring.
The weight of despair has lifted from my shoulders, and I take a huge, cleansing breath.
“Oh . . . my gosh. Fallon is hissister? Mr. Bradshaw isn’t engaged!”
I smile widely at Becky, and she claps excitedly.
This puts everything in a whole new light. The night we met at the bar is no longer a cheating escapade. Also, the obvious move he made on me at his penthouse on Saturday when I was making his lunch and the invitation to the wedding make it seem like he could want something more.
Another hook-up?
“That’s right! I knew you’d be so thrilled to hear it!” Becky’s cheeks are round with her wide smile, but mine suddenly fades.
She’s known this since Friday night, and she purposely made me wait and go through this miserable weekend and lunch with her, feeling like an absolutely horrible person for breaking up a relationship that’s lasted for so many years.
I stare at her, blinking slowly. She doesn’t seem to realize what she’s done, but I’m highly annoyed that she led me on for all this time. I feel like she baited me.
Taking a deep breath, I signal for the waiter for the check. Yelling at Becky won’t do any good, and she did just help dig me out of a massive hole.
