“I volunteer,” Andrzej says, jogging up the stairs to the stage while holding his wineglass carefully.
“You didn’t even attend this high school!” Tessa shouts into the microphone.
Andrzej shrugs, then winks at the audience. When he tries to grab the microphone from her, his glass tilts and spillsaccidentallyall over her front.Tessa screeches.
“Well,” he adds cheerfully, “I think you look much better now. Why don’t you go clean up and let me handle this?”
The room loses it to loud bouts of laughter. Robyn cackles beside me, full-bodied and helpless, pressing her face into my arm, fingers tugging at my jacket. I lose it with her—breath hitching, eyes burning.
Tessa’s smile doesn’t quite crack, but it goes brittle, handing the microphone off to Fletcher to moderatewith Andrzej.
Before the night wraps up,Mom’s presented with a plaque for her years of service. One for her, and one to permanently hang outside the office that’s been hers for almost twenty years. She stands with a hand over her heart. She looks proud. Maybe my father believed she didn’t put her family first on her way to accomplishing this, but all I see is that she thrived, and I thrived alongside her.
Something sinks low in my gut, because when it came to Robyn, the other most important person in my life, I believed the wrong lesson. Instead of standing beside her while she built her future, I turned it into something I resented and thought she chose against me.
I focus on Robyn and find her looking at me. She tips her chin and places her hand on the sliver of skin between my sleeve and my hand, the firm, grounding squeeze of her fingers around my wrist feels like an award all its own. One I am not sure I deserve.
“Well,” a voice cuts in from behind us, light and familiar, “this looks cozy.” Tessa’s back, hair damp and makeup reapplied with a heavy hand. “Did you forget he kissed me back?”
Robyn’s hand slips from my wrist.
“Your mom’s award. I can’t believe you’d let the new guy present it.”
I shake my head and stand. “That’s not what I told them.” I shove my hands in my pockets and clench my fists. Robyn stands behind me, her front to my back, but I’m done allowing Tessa’s poison to come anywhere near her. “I told them I didn’t want to present anything withyou.”
She pulls her lips into a tight smile, but it looks more like a grimace. “Come on. We’re best friends,” she hisses, stillsmiling for anyone watching. “You cutting me out? It has to stop.”
I shake my head. “Best friends look out for each other.” My voice carries more than I intend, bouncing off the gym walls. “I don’t think we were ever friends.”
Her eyes widen a fraction.
“You saw my fears,” I continue, steadier now, “and you used them to keep me around. You sabotaged my relationship.” I swallow. “Sure—it was my bad call, but you’re not blameless.”
She opens her mouth, but I don’t let her speak.
“So no. You might need me to save face and make a point. I don’t need to do a damn thing for you ever again.”
Any response she might have is meaningless, and I’m not going to wait here for her to come up with it. Placing my hand on the small of Robyn’s back, I guide her to the entry door, where we meet Andrzej and Mom. She tells us she’s going to party with her colleagues, glancing at Fletcher.
Telling us to make ourselves at home and wait for brunch with her before we leave, she hugs Robyn, Andrzej, and me. Mom holds my gaze the way she did that Christmas, when I asked for a ring I never ended up giving.
We’re about to head out when Tessa finds us again, stomping in front of us. She turns to my mom and pats her shoulder. “Rebecca, tell?—”
“Tessa, sweetie,” my mom says, “for the fifteenth time this month—it’sMrs. Leightonto you. Only adults get to use my first name.” She tilts her head, eyes sharp. “You’re thirty-one. It’s time to grow up.”
By the time my mom finishes, Tessa’s lips are trembling. She glances at Robyn, at her palm on my shoulder, and Tessa’s eyes shift down.
I understand now the man who would want someone whoneedsinstead of loves is the same man who wouldabandon his family again and again. That man may be my father, but it isn’t who I am anymore.
I’m finally a man the woman who raised me can be proud of and the kind of man someone with ambition can stand beside.
Robyn’s man.
After a few drinks—novodka for me—and endless, affectionate arguments about Polish desserts, the house settles into sleep. I lie awake, though, in my mom’s room, staring at the ceiling. All evening, there’s been an undercurrent I can’t ignore. Quick glances. Pauses that linger too long. Robyn’s blue eyes, gold ring around her pupils, keep finding me across the room, holding, then slipping away. She has questions I want to answer. So I slip down the hall and knock softly on my old bedroom door.
The sight of Robyn makes my chest ache. She’s in a tank top and paisley shorts, lace hugging the thickest part of her thighs. She looks healthier than she did when we broke up—softer, fuller.
I shake my head, more to steady myself than anything. “Can I come in?”
