“You can be honest.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “Hemightbe the worst person I’ve ever met.”
I snorted. “Dot included?”
“Oh, she’s just a little old lady. That— that was different.”
“Yeah, that was the consequence of generational billions and no one ever rejecting him.” I squinted at the eavesdropping valet guy until he dipped his chin and proceeded to look busy.
Georgie blanched. “Billions?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose as a throbbing headache appeared. No part of me was excited for a few hours in a taxi after skipping lunch. Still better than the alternative, I supposed.
“I researched him after we all got dinner together a couple years ago,” I replied.
Her brows drew together. “Hold on— you never told me that.”
“Guess it never came up.”
Truthfully, it faded from my memory until he barreled back into our lives this week. Even after, though, I had no plans to tell her.
The guilt had been growing ever since I found out Serena was engaged. When we met in New York, I was too wrapped up in my own world—the deadlines, the publishing hustle, the scramble to secure my footing—to care much about who my childhood friend was dating. After all, we hadn’t seen each other since Marigold’s funeral, and some stubborn part of me was certain they’d never last. Why would the kindest, most soft-spoken person I knew stay with someone so openly awful?
Before I could process any of that, they were engaged and planning a wedding for the end of the week.
To top it off, she made me abridesmaid.
Everything in me wanted to shake Serena by the shoulders and dispel the cold, hard truth—but I couldn’t. And it would soon drive me insane.
When our taxi arrived, I gave the driver a smile and sank back into my seat. Head lolled to the side, I cracked the window and shut my eyes, beginning to see the appeal in a long, silent drive. At nearly a hundred and fifty dollars, I was going to try enjoying it.
“We should tell her,” Georgie said suddenly, voice low. “Don’t you think?”
I sent her a sidelong glance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled, knowing she could hear the lie.
“About Jesse. That he’s… notgoodfor her.”
That was a nice way of saying, “the most vile person I ever had the misfortune of meeting”.
I sighed. “Do you really think that’s our place? We’ve barely talked to her for seven years, Georgie. Honestly, I don’t even know why she asked us to be bridesmaids.”
“She kept up with me for the first few years,” she replied with a sniff.
Right. I was the only friend awful enough to disappear from Bluebell Cove with no plans of ever looking back. That fact really came back to bite me these past couple months.
The two of us were much better than when I first came home, but every once and a while, a reminder of that gap of time between us would crop up. Maybe I’d forget an idiosyncrasy of hers, like the way she hated tea with a passion andvastlypreferred a cup of hot chocolate. Minute things that seemed insignificant, but flashed a glaring red against eighteen years of friendship.
I acted as if I didn’t notice, even if each time she remembered a detail and I didn’t, the guilt swelled deep in my stomach.
After a tense silence, Georgie added, “Can we really watch them get married?”
“It’s too late,” I replied, sounding as dejected as I felt. “What are we supposed to do? Object?”
“We could talk to her.”
I watched as the brick and glass of Port Camden disappeared outside, giving way to a lazy highway swathed by trees and farmland. A beautiful day, if I wasn’t fighting this gnawing sensation.
“Youcould talk to her,” I finally said. My chest tightened sharply and I winced. “I’ve seen women get sucked up by guys like this. They’re charismatic, flirtatious, and shower you with gifts and affection until they have you hooked. By the time it all stops, it’s too late. And no one—no matter what they say—can make you see reason.”
