There were birthdays and holidays tangled up in those years.
Summers spent with his family. Long dinners that had seemed ordinary at the time and now felt strangely precious, simply because they were gone.
I glanced at Dane when Lynn burst out laughing at something Glen said. He smiled back immediately, like he’d been paying attention the whole time.
Like he didn’t mind standing outside a history that had nothing to do with him. For some reason, that made it easier to breathe.
By the time we finally left the restaurant, the sharp edges of the evening had worn away into something calmer.
We walked Glen and Lynn back to their car. When we reached the vehicle, Glen paused and then gestured for me to follow him around to the back.
“There was actually one more reason we came by,” he said, lowering his voice.
I frowned slightly and followed him to the trunk, where he opened it and pulled out a couple of garment bags.
“These are from Gabby,” he said. “She remembered you mentioned not having anything for the wedding.”
That was just one of the excuses I’d used for why I couldn’t go.
“I can’t take those,” I said immediately.
“You don’t really get a choice. She’ll murder me if I bring them back.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
“It becomes your problem the second she hears you refused.”
I hesitated, then sighed. “Fine,” I muttered, taking the bags. The weight of them settled into my hands more easily than I wanted to admit.
“Good.”
We said our goodbyes after that. Lynn hugged me again, less restrained than before, and Glen gave a lazy wave before sliding into the passenger seat.
When the car finally pulled away, I stayed where I was a moment longer than I meant to.
Dane came up beside me without a word. I didn’t even realize I’d shifted closer until I was leaning slightly into him, my shoulder brushing his.
He adjusted instantly, his arm coming around me again, firmer this time, like it was something he didn’t have to think about anymore.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Saying yes felt wrong, and I didn’t quite have the words for anything else.
So instead I let out a small breath and squeezed his hand.
“Thanks,” I said softly. “For tonight.”
7
SETH
The pile of clothes that covered my living room looked perfectly normal, which was probably the problem. There wasn’t anything actually wrong with them.
The shirts fit, the pants fit, and the jacket draped over the back of my chair was probably the right size too.
Yet every time I looked in the mirror, I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was trying on somebody else's life instead of my own.
I tugged at the sleeves of a pale blue button-down and studied my reflection for another second before letting out a small sigh.
