“Rowan, some advice. If she ends up having to leave town again, please go with her.”
The room fills with laughter as Rowan dips his head.
Riley raises her champagne glass, and everyone follows suit. “To Ellie and Rowan. May your future be bright as you continue to shower each other with love and adoration. Cheers.”
Riley walks up toward Ellie, her golden eyes glassy as they hug. They rock back and forth while they whisper into each other’s ears. Then Riley gives Rowan the same hug.
“Continue to treat her like the queen she is.” Riley swings her arm around Ellie’s shoulder.
Rowan winks at Ellie. “Until my very last breath.”
“That was a great speech,” I say to Riley. “You almost had me crying.”
“Almost?” She lifts her perfectly shaped brow. “Hm. Maybe I should have recited fromMarley and Me, then?”
“I cry one time, and you’ll never let me forget it. That was a depressing movie.”
“August, you weresobbing.” Her laugh is warm and sweet.
“It’s sad!”
“Aw,” Riley coos. “That’s what you get for making me watchThe Texas Chainsaw Massacre.It was payback.”
“Only because I won our bet? How is it my fault that the movie gave you nightmares?”
She narrows her gaze at me. “You didn’t win that bet. You cheated.”
My brows pinch together while I tap a finger to my chin, thinking. “Hmm. I don’t think that’s right. I finished the blue icy before you, fair and square.”
“But then you threw it all up,” she exclaims. “Technically, that should have been my win.”
I shrug. “Don’t hate the player.”
Riley gives me an eye roll, and I love watching her do it.
“I’m gonna walk away now.” She turns on her heel and struts across the room.
I can’t help but stare at her perfect, round ass. A smile pulls at my lips, but it quickly falls when I’m reminded that we aren’t friends anymore. Not like we used to be. I’d do anything to get us where we used to be. Unfortunately for me, that won’t happen.
I’m the one who messed things up between us. I’m the one who made her runaway.
THREE
RILEY
The basket of bread rolls in front of me calls my name. When I reach over the table to grab one, the warm, soft texture makes me hum in excitement. I dip the knife into the whipped butter with a single stroke and plaster the yummy carb in my hand.
Mom and I are at The Seaside Dock, sitting at the same table we always do. The restaurant is next to the water on the other side of town, opposite the beach. During the summer, we sit outside on the docks and watch the boats pass by. You can see the beach down the way while people enjoy the sun.
“That’s a lot of butter,” Mom says, taking a drink of her white wine.
“Yeah, well, when you burn a lot of calories from working out, you get to eat buckets of bread and butter with zero guilt.” I rip off a piece and stuff it into my mouth.
“Soon enough that will catch up to you,” Mom mutters.
The two of us are at lunch, while Hailey is at the tattoo studio, working. This isn’t a typical lunch. In fact, there were never any mother-daughter lunches to begin with.After the divorce was announced, Hailey and I started getting calls from Mom, guilting us into having lunch with her at least three times a week.
There was always this need to feel close to Mom, and that need grew stronger when Hailey gravitated toward Dad and further away from Mom. This responsibility to be the daughter she wants me to be always looms over me.
