The thought made Maggie wince. She took another sip of water, forcing it down like penance.
The balcony door slid open with a soft scrape, and Danica stepped out, equally rumpled, carrying her own glass. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Maggie huffed. “Still dehydrated from all the tequila we pretended wasn’t tequila.”
Danica chuckled, lowering herself into the chair beside hers. “God, I’m drunk enough to feel this tomorrow.”
“Me too.” Maggie grinned despite herself. “We’re not as young as we used to be, huh?”
“Speak for yourself,” Danica said primly, and they both snorted into their water.
Silence stretched for a beat, not uncomfortable, just the kind that knew how to breathe. The Strip’s neon pulse filled the space between them.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Danica said finally, quiet but certain.
Maggie’s chest pinched. Guilt, sharp as always. She was glad too, but being here meant pretending, meant smiling at Gwen when her heart was a mess of contradictions. Still, she found herself nodding, voice rough. “Yeah. Me too.”
Danica shifted, side-eyeing her. “So. Are you going to tell me more about your life? Or do I have to drag it out of you like always?”
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t this your trip? Shouldn’t we be talking wedding plans or something?”
Danica grimaced. “Dear god, no. Please don’t evenmention a wedding to me right now. Wedding planning is the worst.”
Maggie nodded in understanding.
“So, you know how Pete had that Bulgarian fort in mind for the ceremony?”
Maggie nodded. Pete had told everyone to wait on buying flights or hotels but had at least given them a destination to start planning for. Maggie figured it’d be somewhere strange and wonderful. The good thing about a small wedding was Pete and Danica’s ability to be a little chaotic about the cemented plans. She’d expect nothing less from Pete, but she was sure Danica was panicking internally.
“No, wait, I just said I wasn’t going to talk about this,” Danica paused.
Maggie raised a brow. “What’s up with the fort?”
“They suddenly want this hysterically large rental fee, like five times the amount we’d agreed on,” Danica said. “I don’t know. Pete is crushed. She had her sights set on this stupid fort?—”
“What do you want?” Maggie asked, sipping her water.
“I don’t care where we get married. I just care that my best friends and my family are there. It could be in my parents’ backyard for all I care,” Danica said. “Hence why I’ve let Pete decide that part. I don’t know if you know this, but she tends to have strong opinions.”
“Ah, yes, she hides it well.” Maggie snorted. “Wherever you get married, we will all be there, and it will be wonderful. I promise.”
Danica offered her a small smile, then sniffled and took a deep breath like she was clearing her head. “Okay, now your turn.” She nodded. “Catch me up.”
Maggie groaned, tipping her head back. “How much are you willing to bribe me with greasy breakfast food tomorrow in exchange for my life story?”
Danica laughed, bumping her shoulder lightly against Maggie’s. “Unlimited hash browns. Now talk.”
Maggie swirled the last of her water, watching the ice melt into nothing. “Okay, fine. Life updates. Let’s see…” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Still helping part-time at the shop. Kids are healthy, occasionally feral. Gwen’s mom comes over and helps with the kids sometimes, which is nice.”
“That does sound nice. You like her, right?”
Maggie shrugged. “She’s always been very kind to me.”
Danica reached across the space between their chairs and squeezed Maggie’s hand. The unsaid phrase hung in the air: You like her, but she’s not your mom.
Maggie squeezed Danica’s hand back. “So, yep, that’s the highlight reel.”
Danica smiled into her glass. “Not to make this weird, but your hair looks amazing right now.”
