“Hey,” Tatum says.
“Do you want to join us?” Fordasks.
Millie glances at me, her eyes wide as she waits to see what I’m going to do here.
“Sure,” I say, much to my own complete and utter shock. Tatum looks shocked, too, and Ford looks a little green.
What could go wrong?
“Unless we’re too sweaty,” Millie says. “We just came from sunrise yoga.”
“Doesn’t bother me,” Ford says as he gets up and slides into the booth beside his wife.
Tatum nods across the table as if telling us to sit, and we do.
“How was yoga?” Tatum asks.
“So fun,” Millie gushes. “It’s our second time doing the couples one together.”
“The first time was a disaster,” I add. “But this time we got our rhythm down early.”
“Sounds great,” Tatum says.
A beat of awkward silence follows, and Millie and I stare at the menus as we both pretend to be studying them.
“So what do you do, Millie?” Ford asks.
I tap her foot with mine, trying to get across that I don’t want her to talk about her blog.
I know it’s what she does, but what I don’t need is Ford warning me off some girl he thinks is only with me because of my status. Not when we’re faking it. I’m not going to defend what I’m doing to someone who married my ex, regardless of what I said last night. He has zero right to interfere.
She clears her throat. “I’m a bartender.”
“Oh yeah? Quick, what’s in an Old Fashioned?” Ford asks.
“Whiskey, sugar, bitters, and orange peel. Give me a challenge, at least.”
“Sex on the beach,” Tatum challenges.
“Just need Archer for that,” she quips, elbowing me in the ribs, and both Ford and Tatum look a little dazed as I offer a hearty laugh that’s probably a little over the top for me. “Oh, you meant the drink. Vodka, peach schnapps, OJ, and cran.”
“What’s your favorite drink?” Tatum asks.
“To make or to drink?” Millie asks.
“Either.”
She shrugs. “Can’t go wrong with a classic marg.”
“Margarita?” she asks, and Millie nods. “Hell yeah!” She holds up her orange juice, and Millie holds up her water glass. They clink in the middle, already bonding over something.
I’m not sure I like it, but at least it helps diminish the awkwardness.
I watch the little things between Ford and Tatum. Was their connection always there, lying beneath the surface, and I just…never saw it?
It’s not as hard to watch as I thought it would be—not that I ever imagined I’d run into them at this resort. But as I observe the two of them, and even back at my mother’s funeral when I saw them together, they have this sort of natural intimacy I wasn’t expecting. They fit together in a way I’m not sure Tatum and I ever did. And when it comes down to it, I thinkthatis the core of why I never proposed to her.
I didn’t come to this resort expecting to do all this deep work on myself, but here we are.
