He smiled back, and they went down the steps side by side. His arm brushed hers and neither of them moved away from it. Jasmine thought about her mother’s wink and the feelings she was nipping and how completely and totally she was failing at it.
The paparazzi had gone by the time they reached the street. The arrangement was done, the pictures taken, the damage control underway. There was no reason, practically speaking, for Nate to reach over when she shivered slightly in the evening air and settle his jacket around her shoulders without being asked.
But he did. And she let him. And they walked to the car in the early dark and didn’t talk about it.
CHAPTER 18
JASMINE
Jasmine turned in the full-length mirrors that created a half circle around her, the princess-cut dress swirling about her waist.
“Beautiful,” the saleswoman cooed, hands clasped. “It looks great with your waist and shoulders.”
“What do you think?” Jasmine asked Eden.
From her seat on the overstuffed bench, Eden gave her a double thumbs-up. “You look amazing.”
Jasmine turned to the mirror once more, but this time her heart sank. Dress shopping was supposed to be fun. A once-in-a-lifetime event where you laughed with your friends and drank too much champagne.
There certainly was champagne. Jasmine had already downed two glasses of it, and this was only the third dress she’d tried on. There had been no laughter, though.
“Hand me my phone, please?” she asked Eden, who passed it over.
Taking a full-body snap of her reflection, Jasmine sent the picture to Nate.What do you think?she texted.
The bubbles appeared as he texted back.
Looks great. Whatever you want. Remember all final wedding choices are up to you.
Jasmine checked a sigh. Yes, they had agreed to that, and she’d been happy about it at the time, but now she found something lacking with an engagement where the other person was completely hands-off in the wedding planning. It didn’t matter that the whole relationship was a sham. Shouldn’t they make this as enjoyable as possible?
“There’s a beaded mermaid that would look amazing on you,” the saleswoman was saying. “And then I suggest we also try?—”
“This one’s perfect,” Jasmine said. “I’ll take it.”
The woman’s mouth hung open in surprise. Jasmine wondered if she’d ever had a bride pick a dress so quickly.
But it didn’t matter. This dress looked good. It was fine. This wasn’t Jasmine’s real wedding. One day, after she and Nate divorced, she would meet someone else, fall in love, stand in front of the altar with them, and…
For some reason, when she imagined this future, the man in it looked suspiciously like Nate.
She handed the phone back to Eden and stepped off the platform. “Lunch?” she asked.
“Lunch,” Eden agreed.
They went to lunch at a place a few blocks from the bridal boutique, a sun-filled Italian spot with small tables on a sidewalkpatio. Jasmine ordered pasta she didn’t have much appetite for and picked at it while Eden talked, and the warmth of the afternoon and the two glasses of champagne from earlier conspired to make everything feel slightly removed, like she was watching the day through glass.
Her hips ached. They’d been aching since she’d woken up, a low insistent throb that she’d been managing with denial and over-the-counter painkillers that had become her default strategy. Standing on a platform in a bridal boutique for ninety minutes had not helped. She shifted in her chair and told herself to stop thinking about it.
“Okay,” Eden said, setting down her fork. “I have to show you something.”
She pulled out her phone and turned it to face Jasmine. On the screen was a photograph of a man. Dark-haired, easy smile, the kind of face that looked like it laughed often. He was standing somewhere outdoors, slightly squinting into the sun, entirely unaware of the camera.
“He’s cute,” Jasmine said, happy for the distraction. She took the phone in order to inspect him more closely. “Is this the guy you went out with last week?”
“Third date was last night,” Eden said, and the worddatecame out differently than it usually did from her. Softer. More careful with it.
Jasmine looked at the photo and then at her friend’s face, and what she saw there stopped her mid-breath. Eden was glowing. She was lit up from somewhere inside.
