“Oh, wow. She has to take Garethseriouslynow,” Fox said to Moreau, impressed.
“Speaking of serious,” he murmured. “I hear Clark is pretty serious about his opera singer girlfriend.”
A thin thread tightened around Hazel’s heart, but she just laughed. “Please. Gareth isn’t serious about a relationship. That’s not his style.”
She took a sip of water because her throat felt oddly dry.
“Yes, he is.” Moreau frowned. “I heard he’s thinking about marrying her.”
Hazel choked and began to cough loudly. “What?” Gareth wanted… He wanted…to get married?
“Yes.”
“How do you know?” she croaked.
“From Anna. She got it from Lucy, who found out from her sister, Rachel, who’s dating Connor, who…knows Gareth?”
“Yeah, he’s one of his best friends,” she said, perplexed. “They know each other from Harvard.”
“Ah, so you know him too?”
“Yeah, but we lost touch after…” She trailed off. That wasn’t important. “He wants to get engaged to her?”
“Yup.”
“Man, I can’t believe Moreau’s getting more gossip than me now,” Fox muttered, shaking his head.
“I don’t want it either, okay?” Moreau said, pained. “But Anna talks, and I like listening to her…”
“You like listening? Fuck me, you’ve changed.”
Moreau gave him the middle finger and came back with something probably not very nice, but Hazel barely registered it. Her head was…full. It was full of a whooshing sound and pinkcotton, it seemed. She could swear red mist was pushing its way across her vision from the sides.
I’m not getting married. It would make my mother too happy. I can’t possibly risk that.
What if I want to get married?
Fuck. Then I guess I’ll have to rethink it.
Austin nudged her with his elbow, and she looked up, blinking.
“What?”
“I asked you a question.”
“Oh. What?”
“Does it bother you?” he asked darkly, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve been rather quiet. I would understand, I mean, you’re still his ex-girlfriend, even if you hate him, so…”
“I… No. Why should it bother me?” she asked, perplexed, lacing her clammy fingers beneath the tabletop. She was just surprised.
Yes, the bitter feeling that spread through her chest, scratching at her heart with sharp fingernails, was surprise.
She hadn’t believed that Gareth would ever consider marriage. He wasn’t the type. He’d said so himself once.
It was just that if he married, the door…the door that had been slightly ajar…
She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. What the hell was wrong with her?
