“Of course. That’s fine.” Gwen hesitated before leaving, then spoke impulsively. “Do you have dinner plans tonight? I’d like to talk more about all this. If you’re free.”
He looked up at her, and his mouth fell open slightly. “Yes, I’m free. I’d like that. What time?”
She told him when and where, and he wrote it down in his notebook.
When she walked out of the archive room and was closing the door behind her, she discreetly glanced back at him. He was watching her too, but they both looked away before the door clicked shut.
CHAPTER 5
Gwen arranged to meet Peter at Le Caveau, the fine-dining establishment at Grand-Pré Wines. When she called for a reservation, the restaurant was fully booked, but the hostess made room for her, as always, because she was a regular patron and a neighbor. Her property bordered the winery on the high side of the vineyard.
Gwen drove home from work, parked her car, and went inside to change out of the office attire she’d been wearing all day. She kicked off her black pumps, ditched the pencil skirt and blazer, and slipped into a sweater and a comfortable maxi skirt with flat sandals—a necessity if she planned to walk home across the vineyard after dark.
A short while later, as she reached the winery’s cobblestone courtyard, her cell phone rang. She checked the display and saw that it was Eric.
Gwen stopped in her tracks. The air around her seemed to swirl upward. Eric hadn’t called in months. They’d agreed it would be best if they cut the cord completely, because every time they talked, they argued or cried. She knew it was best, but it didn’t stop her from missing him and wondering what he was doing with Keri at any given moment.
She took a deep breath before she answered. “Hello?”
“Hi,” he said. “It’s me.” The sound of his voice caused her heart to thump a little faster. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
“No, I’m just heading into Le Caveau.” She thought of all the times they’d eaten there during their home renovation. They used to call it “their place” in the same way that most couples had a song.
“Le Caveau?” he replied. “The scallops and the cream sauce ... do they still have that on the menu?”
“Of course.” She hoped he was missing their regular table. That would at least suggest that their time together still meant something to him. “I’ll probably order it tonight.”
“Just like always.” She recognized the note of nostalgia in his voice and felt a pleasant mingling of relief and happiness.
“Are you meeting someone?” he asked.
Was he curious if it was a date? It wasn’t, but her pride demanded that she play it coy. “It’s no one you know.” She stepped onto the wooden deck that surrounded the wineshop. “What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s Keri?”
It was important that she sounded at ease with the situation, because again: her pride.
“She’s good.” Eric paused. “That’s the reason I’m calling, actually. It’s been getting kind of serious lately, and I thought we should talk about that.”
Oh, God.
“All right,” Gwen replied hesitantly, checking her watch. She was now five minutes late for her reservation. This was definitely going to put a damper on dinner.
Eric exhaled into the phone, and she wished he would just spit it out, whatever it was.
“Keri’s been hinting at rings lately,” he finally explained, “whenever we walk past a jewelry store.”
“Really?” Gwen swallowed uneasily. “You’ve only been dating for six months.”
“I know,” he replied. “We haven’t been together very long, and she’s quite young.”
Young. Yes. Gwen knew exactly how old Keri was, because when Eric had started seeing her, Gwen couldn’t help herself. She’d looked her up on social media. As it turned out, Keri was fresh out of college, and her Instagram page consisted of not much except sexy kissy faces and her holding up cocktails—and an odd obsession with toe cleavage. Eric was thirty-five and ran his own construction company. He’d had a whole life with Gwen before they’d separated. They’d gone to the same university, backpacked across Europe, gotten married, bought a house, renovated it, gotten pregnant, had a baby ...
“Young isn’t such a bad thing,” she said, clinging to her composure. “We were young when we started dating.”
“Yes, but ... I can’t help but wonder if ...”
He stopped abruptly, and Gwen pressed the phone tighter against her ear, as if that would make him finish the sentence more quickly. “Can’t help but wonder what?”
“If you and I gave up too soon,” he said. “Everything fell apart so fast. Maybe we shouldn’t have been so quick to throw in the towel.”
