She gives me a look that’s equal parts exasperated and fond. “You didn’t win me, Wren. We chose each other.”
“Sure,” I say, leaning against the workbench my dad has under the eaves of the detached garage. This is where I learned to work on bikes and cars, and not much has changed with my dad. He’s come into possession of a beautiful vintage Oldsmobile and is taking the opportunity to ask me a few things about it. “But if there were a scoreboard, I’d still be ahead.”
She rolls her eyes. God, is she beautiful. Her hair catches the Christmas lights hanging from the house, the same red dress from last year hugging her in all the right ways. She’s still got that fire… that mix of sweetness and stubbornness that undid me from the start.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she warns, pretending to focus on straightening the edge of a blueprint I left out.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re thinking about dragging me out to the truck again.”
“Can you blame me?” I rest my hands on her hips. “You in red? It’s a problem.”
She leans back against me, teasing my hips. “Behave, Ms. Hall.”
“Never, Ms. Hall,” I say, kissing the spot just beneath her ear.
From the house, laughter swells. Someone’s started pouring wine, and I can hear my mother’s voice floating through the door, calling everyone to the table.
“Come on,” Edie says. “They’ll send a search party.”
We head inside together, and it’s surreal sitting at the same table where everything fell apart a year ago. Only this time, there’s no tension. Just conversation and clinking glasses and the kind of good-natured teasing that I didn’t think was possible when Nick and I began growing apart as teenagers.
Nick and Sabrina sit across from us. She’s lovely, smart, and clearly used to reining him in. Turns out she’s a tax attorney he met through a hiking club in Salem. They fit in a way Nick and I never could, both casually ambitious.
“Sabrina,” Edie says, “you must have the patience of a saint.”
She grins. “He’s not so bad once you get him out of his own head.”
“I’ve been saying that for years,” I interject, earning a laugh from both of them.
We eat. We talk. For once, the whole room feels easy.
“You two seem happy,” Sabrina says, gesturing between us.
“We are,” Edie says, gazing at me. “More than I ever thought possible.”
Nick nods thoughtfully. “Best wrong turn I ever made,” he says, and for a second the room stills. “Losing Edie. If I hadn’t been such an idiot, she wouldn’t be with Wren, I wouldn’t have met Sabrina, and none of this—” he gestures to the table “—would’ve settled like this.”
I’m just a tad caught off guard. “That’s surprisingly mature of you.”
“I’ve had a year to think about it.” He meets my eyes. “You were right. I didn’t love Edie. I loved the idea of winning.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And now?”
“Now I’ve got someone who actually fits my life,” he says, looking at Sabrina with genuine fondness. “And you’ve got someone who fits yours.”
“She doesn’t just fit my life,” I tell him. “Sheismy life.”
Nick snorts, and it’s like we’re kids again, ribbing each other over the PlayStation. “Still a possessive shit.”
“When it comes to Edie?” I grin. “Always.”
EDIE
After dinner—while the twins miraculously handle dishes, thanks to Heather’s firm direction—I slip out onto the back porch with Sabrina. The air is crisp and damp, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Turns out she’s from Seaside. Go figure.
“Nick told me everything.” Sabrina leans against the railing beside me. “About you and Wren. How it all started.”
