As she said it, she let her eyes wander to take in the lobby for the first time, and felt a rush of gratitude for its sleek, luxurious blandness: overwhelmingly marble-white with touches of black and brushed gold, oversize columns segmenting the space that looked more like sculpture than architecture, the furniture low-slung and uninviting.
It didn’t feel even a little like the Paris she once fell in love with.
“I wish you could’ve come to my shower, too,” Emily said, interrupting her thoughts, and Layla met her eyes again, looking foraccusation there, a sort ofA sister would’ve been at the showerjudgment.
But Em hadn’t ever been the judgmental sort, and all Layla saw in her face was genuine regret.
“My job,” Layla said automatically, defaulting to the excuse she had used so often with the MacKenzies since the divorce, until they all eventually stopped asking for things that required an excuse. “It’s hard to get time away during my placements.”
“Right,” Em said cheerfully. “How is it? Still going well?”
“It’s great.”
It was the answer she gave to everyone who asked, and she was sure she meant it, despite what had prompted her to take her current position as a locum tenens physician. When the recruiter had first reached out, the job—basically, being a doctor who took temporary four-to-six-week placements at hospitals where there were staffing shortages or doctors on leave—had appealed as an escape hatch, a way to avoid the crushing, hard-to-keep promises she’d made in the wake of the divorce.
A year and a half in, she could admit that there were other real benefits to the work. The money, of course. Seeing different parts of the country. Time off whenever she wanted it.
That she hadn’t really taken advantage of any of those perks yet—that she spent little, got out even less, worked more than she could ever remember—well.
Well, that wasn’t for Emily to know.
Em nodded and clutched Layla’s hands, and then Layla was being pulled over to one of those low-slung sofas, its fabric lush and its cushions more comfortable than they looked. Still, once she was seated, she looked longingly over at the small luggage cart with her suitcase and carry-on that the hotel’s porter had left by the reservations desk.
If she could only have a little time to check in, to freshen up…
“I’m texting Michael,” Emily was saying, her face tipped down to her phone, her thumbs flying over the screen. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
Layla stared, her brain sluggish to catch up. She maybe shouldn’t have sat down, because it was hitting her now, an overnight flight without sleep, and the adrenaline-rush ending of it.
“On the…on the cruise tomorrow, right?” she said, calling one of those yellow itinerary slots up in her mind. Today and most of tomorrow were meant to be no-yellow-at-all adjustment days for Layla. If it’d been up to her, she wouldn’t have run into anyone—even Emily—before things officially got underway tomorrow evening.
“Well, yeah, but he’s on his way back here!” Em’s phone pinged and she looked down. “He’ll be here in like ten! That’s sogreat!”
“Oh, um—maybe I could change first, or—”
“Oh my gosh,no, you look great. This tonal dressing is very you. Quiet luxury!”
Layla looked down at the beige lounge set she’d worn for the flight.Aggressively neutral.But also, Em was being generous. It did not look quietly luxurious right now; it looked crinkled and saggy. And she hadn’t really taken a close look to see whether she’d picked up anything from thatdisgustingairplane floor.
“Please wait?” Emily said. “I really want you to meet him.”
You would have met him already, she imagined another version of Emily saying.You would have met him, if you’d kept all your promises to me.
I meant to, she imagined another version of herself saying back.I meant to have the most amicable divorce in history; I meant to stay so close to all of you. I meant to keep showing up for friendly monthlycoffee dates with Jamie, I meant to come to every single family gathering, I meant to be the kind of sister I was to you before.
I meant to be better at all of it.
“Sure,” she said instead. “I’m so excited to meet him.”
Emily smiled brightly, but almost immediately, her smile dimmed, and she grabbed Layla’s hand again, her eyes suddenly pleading.
“Let’s just do it,” she blurted. “Let’s talk about it before Michael gets here. You know that when I invited you, I didn’t know, I didn’t ever think Jamie—”
“Em,” Layla interrupted, knowing exactly where this was going, and not wanting to dwell there for too long. “It’s really okay.”
Jamie had called Layla last month to tell her he was bringing someone, of course he had. A call she’d let go to voice mail at first, even though she hadn’t been busy when she’d seen his name—just “Jamie” now, changed from the smug “Husband” nickname she’d added to her contacts the morning after their wedding—come up on her screen. His voice had been cautious when she finally listened to the message.Lay, can you call me, please? It’s really important.I don’t want to text.
She had a sense about what he’d say. Embarrassingly, she’d already clocked that he’d stopped posting on his social media recently, and she’d been speculating.
