“She’s in,” Kiera said triumphantly.
“Oh. Great,” Maggie said, her voice catching before she smiled too quickly. “That’s great.”
Gwen’s cheeks burned. “Guys. No. I have to watch?—”
“Maggie, who’s watching the kids while you’re both in Vegas with us?” Danica asked the phone screen, shooting a mischievous grin toward Gwen.
Izzy’s gaze never wavered. Gwen resisted the urge to kick her under the table.
“Uh, I don’t know. Gwen, your… mom, I assume?” Maggie asked, and Pete turned the screen toward Gwen in time for her to see Maggie take a massive gulp of wine.
Gwen’s eyes widened in a desperate plea for understanding, but Maggie kept a forced smile. “I want it on the record that this was not?—”
Pete whipped the phone back toward herself. “I’m so excited to have both of you at our bachelorette party. It really means so much to have you there, given you’re our favorite married couple and we really look up to your relationship.”
Maggie stuttered, and Gwen glared down into her drink. Pete was laying it on thick, and Gwen’s cheeks burned with frustration and shame.
Maggie made a quick excuse to end the call, and as soon as Pete hit the red button, she and Danica high-fived.
“You’re coming,” Pete announced triumphantly. “Confirmed!”
“I knew we’d figure out a way,” Danica said, practically bouncing. “We need a room with a hot tub.”
“We need three rooms in the suite. And matching silkrobes. And Gwen, you’re doing pole dancing lessons with us. Nonnegotiable,” Kiera added.
“Gwen, what’s your karaoke song?” Danica asked.
“Y’all,” Gwen said weakly, trying to interrupt the tidal wave of enthusiasm. “I still haven’t said yes.”
“You didn’t say no,” Izzy replied, voice sharp with amusement.
Gwen’s mouth opened and closed. She glanced down at her drink like the beer might offer an escape hatch. All of them were smiling. All of them wanted her there.
She didn’t know if she wanted to go. She didn’t know if she could.
But watching their joy — seeing Maggie’s tired face on the video screen, listening to the way they already counted her in the plans — something cracked open in her chest.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll try to figure out things with my mom, but I make absolutely no promises.”
There was still a way to backtrack, to change her mind quietly before flights were booked and deposits locked in. She hadn’t actually committed. Not really. She could still find an excuse, she told herself. Something believable. Something that wouldn’t make Maggie hate her.
But even as she thought it, she knew the damage had already been done.
CHAPTER 3
Maggie
To sayMaggie was upset was an understatement.
Maggie. Was. Pissed.
She’d spent the better part of the past fifteen hours fuming, positively enraged that Gwen had put them in such an awkward position. Why had Gwen even met up with her friends at all? Why hadn’t she just said she couldn’t come? Why did she have the audacity to look so gorgeous sitting at a brewery picnic table, her top two shirt buttons undone and her hair tousled?
Wait, no. She was getting sidetracked.
Maggie was furious, and she was going to flip a table in the only place where she let her guard down anymore: their couples therapist’s office.
Virtually, of course, given that Gwen was still in Denver. Dr. Elowen had given them the option of telehealth appointments early on, and they were useful for when Gwen was traveling — which was always — or when Maggie couldn’t stand the idea of sitting in the same quiet room together — which was growing more often.
