"At least tonight's done," Arthur finally says, pouring another round. "One bad party—"
"Don't forget that asshole is also gonna be at Ben's couples shower withouromega and we have to be there and play nice," Mason cuts in, his knuckles white around the glass.
"And the wedding," Knox adds. "And every other event before that."
I look up. "What?"
"Didn't you know?" Arthur asks, looking at me. "Grant's family holds business contracts with Ben's dad. He can't exactly be uninvited without it becoming a business thing."
I let out a long breath. Close my eyes. Open them. "Of course he'll be there. I should've known this wasn't going to be a one-time thing."
Arthur makes sure all four glasses are full again.
"Yep, this is our fate for the next three months," he says, setting the bottle down with a sigh. "Showing up to events where our exes parade around while the whole town whispers about us and pities us."
Mason shoves his empty glass forward across the bar without a word and nobody talks for a while. The venue settles around us, pipes clicking, and Knox pulls out his phone, scrolling.
"You know," Knox says eventually, his eyes still on his screen. "Something's been bugging me."
"Only one thing?" I say.
"Jessica left four months ago," he continues, not looking up. "That's not that long after your ex left, right?"
"What are you getting at?"
"What I'm getting at—" He looks up. "Before she left, Jessica was glued to her phone. It'd been like that for a while—work stuff, she said—but around the time Grant left, the timing shifted... Do you have any idea where he went? After he left?"
"I—Uh, I'm not sure, he didn't post anything online. I checked. Every day for—" My face goes hot and I study the wood grain. "Anyway. There's nothing there." I take a breath. "He always talked about wanting to go back to Asia, though. Phi Phi Island. Thailand. That's... where he proposed to me. Two years ago."
Mason goes very still. "Wait. You don't think—"
I stare at Knox. Then at Mason. Then back. "Don't thinkwhat?"
"Jessica's been in Asia." A beat. The three of them exchange a glance. "We've... kept tabs. Ahem. Anyway," he's scrolling now, thumb moving with purpose. "Four months. Bali. Shanghai. Tokyo. Bangkok..." His thumb stops. "Phi Phi Island."
The blood leaves my face.
"Give me that," I say, my hand is already moving.
The screen is an Instagram post of Jessica on a beach during golden hour, the wind perfectly styling her hair. She’s wearing a white linen dress, strappy sandals dangling casually from one finger. The caption reads:Sometimes the universe just knows where you need to be.??? It’s followed by an obnoxious wall of sixteen hashtags, including the obligatory #blessed, #wanderlust, and #livingmybestlife.
The post is three and a half months old.
I stare at it, my brow furrowing.
Hold on a second.I zoom in.
The limestone cliffs rising behind her. The longtail boats bobbing just offshore. And the bar... the driftwood bar at the edge of the sand with the hand-painted sign that says RASTA BABY in chipped yellow letters. I know that bar. I sat on a stool at that bar two years ago while the man I love got on one knee in the sand and asked me to spend the rest of my life with him.
That bar is not where most tourists go. It's an hour hike past the main beach.
"Beth?" Arthur's voice, closer than I expect. "What is it?"
I don't answer and swipe. Another photo, another sunset. Swipe. Swipe.
Then I see it.
A restaurant shot. Jessica posing with a coconut drink... But draped over the chair next to her is a sweater.
