Corey patted me on the shoulder, rising with grace I couldn’t hope to match and offering me his hand.
I hesitated.
“I’m not gonna snatch it away,” he said. “Scout’s honor.”
I wasn’t sure I believed he’d been a Boy Scout, but neither had I. In any case, I reached for it, and he didn’t snatch it away.
“Truce?” he asked, still holding my hand once I was on my feet. “Sorry about the fight with Theo. Believe it or not, I’m not actually tryin’ to break you two up.”
I did believe it. I believed Corey wanted Delilah, that he’d moved on from Theo. He’d hated me, once—some of the looks he’d given me had been sharp enough to kill—but I got the impression he’d mellowed there, too.
I didn’t hate him anymore, either. He was right—I was glad he was safely getting married to someone else. He was the oneperson Theo had ever dated that I’d actually worried I might lose him to.
Selfish as it was, I was glad I hadn’t. I was glad I wouldn’t.
“Truce,” I agreed, squeezing his hand as I shook it. “As long as you never make me do this again.”
Corey laughed, loud and bright and good-humored. “Think of all the bruises you’re gonna have for Theo to kiss better.”
14
THEO
I’d never beento a bachelorette party before.
It was, to my surprise, not the worst thing that’d ever happened to me so far. If nothing else, the foot massage part of the mani-pedi portion of the day had been amazing. I hadn’t realized how much feetcouldhurt, let alone how much mine did, until a Russian woman in her seventies had pressed her thumbs so deep into the arch that the feeling of the knot giving way had been, I was fairly sure, the kind of sensation people meant byreligious experience.
Zlata was my new best friend. We’d talked about all her favorite romance novels, some of which were also my favorites and a few of which I’d put on my TBR list while we’d been talking. She’d been impressed with that and offered to introduce me to her grandson, who was a civil engineer.
I’d told her about Simon. Really told her, the whole truth about how I felt about him. I’d only done that once before, and last time I’d been crying and covered in snot. Saying aloud calmly,as though it was completely fine and normal and not potentially life-ruining, was a nice experience.
Zlata had patted me on the knee and brought me a cup of blackberry-flavored tea with approximately eight teaspoons of sugar in it. No one else, I noticed, had gotten tea.
“Color?” Zlata asked, peering at me through eyes the same steel grey as her hair. We’d progressed to the manicure portion of the experience, and my hands had never looked or felt better.
I looked down at my nails, a refusal on the tip of my tongue.
“You should do color,” Madelaine said, flopping down in the seat beside me. Her nails were an uncharacteristic neon pink.
I raised a brow. “I see you have.”
Madelaine shrugged. “This isn’t real life,” she said. “I can have a little fun.”
“What happens in Montauk,” I repeated, mostly to myself.
“We’re in Southhampton.”
My lips twitched. “That’s almost exactly what I said.”
Madelaine wrinkled her nose in confusion.
“Something Simon said to me,” I explained. “What happens in Montauk stays in Montauk.”
Madelaine’s lips twitched into a smile. “I always knew he was smart. You should take his advice.”
Zlata cleared her throat, giving me a pointed look, then glancing at my nails and the selection of polishes she’d laid out in front of me.
I’d never had my nails painted in my life.
