“Only the best. But hey, yeah. Take your time. I’ll start decorating until you make it over here.”
Nooooo!I mean, I have very specific ideas… “I’ll be there in fifteen.”
I hang up and launch into high-speed mode. Quick shower—wash, condition, rinse while it’s still lukewarm. Mascara, bronzer, a touch of concealer, and a high ponytail. By the time I cross the ship and reach the bridal suite, I’m ready to face the day.
Ready to face Tay. Well, almost.
I’m mostly just hoping she doesn’t bring up last night.
Not because I regret it—God, no—but because saying it all out loud still feels too raw. Too exposed.
It’s a relief, having someone know.
And also… kind of horrifying.
I owe her a thank you.
Her advice—unlike about half of what I’d read in all those divorce help books—is actually sticking.
Tay opens the door in white linen shorts and a teal tank top that says ‘Vibing with the Bride’ in glittery script. Her blonde hair is piled up in a messy bun, but what I notice first is the steaming cup she holds out to me.
“It’s real,” she says. And now I’m leaning more towards grateful that she knows the truth. I don’t have to pretend with this woman.
“Thank God.” I take the cup, glancing around.
This suite. The bridal suite is nearly identical to me and Beckett’s—modern, elegant, luxurious by ship cabin standards, a king size bed, a velvet sofa, and a desk that’s covered with paraphernalia that’s all things party related. And of course, glass sliding doors that open to the balcony with a view of endless sea.
I take a careful sip. Then a longer one.
“You are a saint among women.”
Tay just looks at me. Calm. Steady. Not poking, just… holding space.
“You okay?”
“Better.”
“Need to talk about it?”
Maybe?
But right now, I just need to move. “I can work and talk at the same time,” I offer.
Tay doesn’t even blink. “Perfect.”
She lifts a hopelessly tangled strand of fairy lights. “What’s the plan for these?”
“Oh! Those go around the headboard. And if we’ve got enough, I thought we could run some along the balcony railing too.”
“Romantic. Got it.” She drops the lights in my lap. “Untangle. You talk, I’ll climb furniture.”
I glance down, pick at a knot of tiny bulbs.
“It wasn’t a tattoo,” I say casually. “It was a piercing.”
Tay freezes halfway onto a chair, turns around slow. “Seriously?”
I nod, wincing.
