Silence.
Not shocked.
Not judgmental.
Heavy.
“I know,” Regan said.
My tears spilled then.
“I hate that everyone knows.”
“Honey,” she said softly, “you were never subtle about Dylan.”
“I tried to be.”
“You were terrible at it.”
A sob caught in my throat and somehow came out almost like a laugh.
Then the laugh died.
“He’s engaged,” I said.
That silence was different.
Sharper.
“What?”
“Georgia. Blonde. Pretty. Ring on her finger. She was in the waiting room. She said she’s his fiancée.”
Regan said nothing for a long moment.
Then, very quietly, “That idiot.”
“Regan.”
“No. I mean it. That absolute idiot.”
“He moved on.”
“Did he?”
“She has a ring.”
“A ring is not a marriage.”
My eyes squeezed shut.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t make it sound simple.”
“It isn’t simple. It’s awful.”
