Chapter 18
Savannah
"You need to choose a dress that says 'successful professional,' not 'sleeping with your ex's father.'"
I glared at Zoe from inside my closet, where I'd been staring at my wardrobe options for twenty minutes.
"That's not helpful."
"Neither is panic-texting me about dinner with Catherine Reid."
She sprawled across my bed, flipping through a magazine with studied casualness that didn't match the concern in her eyes. "What possessed you to accept that invitation anyway?"
Good question.
One I'd been asking myself repeatedly since yesterday, when an elegant cream envelope had arrived at my office containing a handwritten note from Miles's mother requesting the pleasure of my company for dinner at Maison Laurent.
Just the two of us. No explanation offered.
The anxiety had been building since then, manifesting in an unsettled stomach and a general feeling that something was off with my body.
However, I chalked it up to dreading whatever Catherine Reid had planned for our evening.
"Curiosity," I admitted, pulling out a navy sheath dress that hit just below the knee. Conservative enough for a business dinner, elegant enough for one of the city's most exclusive restaurants. "And maybe a touch of masochism."
"Or self-sabotage." Zoe sat up, expression serious now.
"Sav, you've been floating on cloud nine since your dramatic reunion with Lucas last week. Why complicate things by dining with his Miles’ Mom? Why would she care about you dating Lucas anyhow?”
Because something in Catherine's precise, elegant handwriting had felt like a summons I couldn't refuse.
Because despite the blissful haze of the past week—nights spent in Lucas's arms, days spent pretending to focus on work while counting hours until I could see him again—I couldn't shake the feeling that our bubble of happiness was more fragile than it appeared.
"She's Miles's mother," I said, sliding the dress from its hanger. "And Lucas's past. Both relationships that impact mine, whether I like it or not."
"And you're sure this isn't about testing Lucas? Seeing how he reacts when you have dinner with her?"
I paused, caught by the unexpected insight. "I didn't tell him."
Zoe's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? After the whole hospital lie disaster? You're keeping secrets again?"
"It's not a secret," I argued, though the defensiveness in my voice betrayed me. "It's just... information I haven't shared yet."
"Uh-huh." Her skepticism was palpable. "Because that worked out so well last time."
She was right, of course.
After everything Lucas and I had been through, after the raw honesty of our reconciliation, keeping this dinner from him was a step backward.
Yet I'd found myself fabricating plans with Zoe when he asked about my evening, the lie slipping out with disturbing ease.
Why? What was I afraid of?
"He never talks about her," I said, more to myself than to Zoe. "In all our conversations, all our nights together, Catherine's name has barely been mentioned beyond acknowledging she exists."
"Maybe because it was thirty years ago and lasted about fifteen minutes," Zoe pointed out reasonably.
"A college hookup that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy isn't exactly relationship goals worth reminiscing about."
