“I know I don’thaveto.” I lean back. “I want to… And babe?”
Her brow lifts.
“When I say buy whatever you want, I don’t mean just what you need for a weekend.” A smirk tugs at my mouth. “I meanwhateveryou want. Have fun. Designer bags. Shoes. The whole thing.” I pause, watching her. “You’re my wife now. It’s about time I had someone to spend all this money on.”
“But I’m not really your wife.”
“Well, according to the state of New York you are.”
“Well, if New York says so… then who am I to argue?” She smiles, then sobers. “Seriously, though. Thank you. I won’t go crazy.”
“Babe, if you don’t go full-onPretty Womanthis afternoon and come back with armfuls of shopping bags,” I say, barely hiding my grin, “you’re gonna get a red ass.”
She laughs.
It’s something I used to say back when we were friends—with all the benefits I don’t have anymore. She’d usually fire back with something smart like,Oh no, I’m so scared.Or,Can’t decide if that’s a punishment or a reward.
But this time, she just laughs and shakes her head. A reminder that what we are now isn’t the same as before.
And yet, I still feel just as close to her as I ever have.
Jordan rings the doorbell,then slips her fingers through mine as we wait.
Cece opens the door a moment later. She doesn’t greet us with words, just a tight-lipped smile that makes me feel like I’m the last person on earth she’d want standing on her porch.
“Hey,” I say, attempting politeness.
“Hi, Cece.” Jordan’s voice is bright and warm. “It’s so good to see you again.”
Christ.She’s already so much better at this than I am.
Cece’s lips curve just enough to make me feel slightly less hated.
It lasts about three seconds.
Her gaze sweeps over Jordan, neutral. I can’t tell if she’s judging, approving, or quietly plotting our deaths. She exhales as her eyes drop to our hands, intertwined, Jordan’s diamond glinting from her ring finger.
Finally, she speaks, her tone mildly amused. “Yes. I remember you. From the funeral.” A pause. “And from when the boys were teenagers.”
It’s not unkind. Not kind either. Just… factual. Like she’s too tired to assign emotion to it.
“Cole’s inside. I’ll go get him.”
I step forward instinctively. The door shuts right in my face.
“Oh my God,” Jordan whispers. “She’s intimidating.”
I scoff softly. “Yeah. And to think when I was younger, she used to becool Aunt Cece.”
The door swings open again. Cece’s still there, but now Cole’s coming down the hall with a duffel slung over his shoulder. He smiles when he sees us, mostly because Jordan’s here, I’m sure.
“Hey, buddy,” I call.
“Hey, Matt. Hey, Jordan.”
He pauses by the door, then turns back. “Bye, Grandma.”
“Bye, Cole.” She pulls him into a side hug. “I’ll see you Sunday. If you need me, anything at all, I’m just a phone call away.”
