That’s…an odd thing to ask. “Chicago? Why would we move to Chicago?”
She shifts away, our legs no longer touching, but she turns a little to face me. “I don’t know, isn’t that where Brian is from?”
“Yeah, but we livehere.” She stares at me. Searches my face and it makes me wonder why on earth she would ask that.
She nods once. “Okay.”
My skin prickles, and when she doesn’t follow up with an insult about the Cubs, I start to wonder what’s going on. “Did someone say something about us moving to Chicago?”
“No, no,” she says quickly, though I’m not sure I believe her. “I was just curious, that’s all.”
We stare at each other, and when she doesn’t back down, I narrow my eyes. “We’re pretty rooted here.”
She nods. “Got it. Eagles fans through and through.”
“Right,” I say, drawing out the word. The air in the room turns thick with tension. Her phone buzzes, lighting up her screen to reveal a picture of a place I don’t recognize. “Are you still seeing Claudia?”
“Occasionally.”
Jesus Christ, these one-word answers.
“You should invite her to the wedding,” I continue, trying to pullsomethingout of her. Something real and honest and open. Desperate for a conversation like we used to have before this unseen barrier wedged itself between us.
She chuckles and shakes her head. “I’m not sure we’ll still be seeing each other by then.”
Her answer doesn’t surprise me. She hasn’t been serious with anyone ever since she and Trinity broke up. “Oh? How come?”
“It’s…complicated.”
That’s the thing with Alex. Everything is always complicated. Even when it doesn’t have to be. I sigh. “You’re allowed to have a girlfriend, you know. Settle down. Maybe even get engaged.”
Her nose scrunches, and she gives me a disapproving look. “With Claudia?”
“With anybody.”
“Let’s not get carried away.” Her tone is sad. Defeated. I put my hand on her leg. I realize a split second too late that she’s staring at my ring. “I’m never in one place long enough for a serious relationship,” she adds.
“I don’t know,” I say, wanting to keep the attention on her and off any more engagement talk. “You’ve been in London for a long time.”
She looks scandalized. “Definitely time to move, then.”
I don’t find it funny. All her moving around. How the distance she puts between us, physically and emotionally, continues to grow. “Why do you have to be so far away?”
I’m expecting sarcasm. Another dismissal. So when she whispers, “It’s just easier,” it catches me completely off guard. The air shifts into a different kind of tension.
“Easier for what?” I ask just as softly.
This moment is precious. A rare instant of exposed honesty. She takes a shaky breath and holds it for an eternity.
Then she exhales.
“Do you have a dress picked yet?”
Disappointment is an understatement. “No, don’t do that. Don’t shut me out.” She tries to scoot away, but I follow and take her hands and squeeze them. “Please.”
She looks panicked. Her gaze darts around the room, focusing on anything but me. I shift closer still and dip my head, drawing her attention.
“Easier for what?”
