She has a champagne flute in one hand and a microphone in the other. She’s already teary. She’s been crying since I put my dress on this morning and has also made no effort to pace herself on drinks.
“I’ve known Carly since we were young and stupid,” Zoe begins, then pauses. “Or maybe just young. We are still occasionally stupid.”
“Speak for yourself,” I say.
“I am speaking mostly for you.”
Everyone laughs again, and despite myself, I do too.
Zoe looks down at the paper sitting on the table in front of her, then back up at me. “Carly is one of those people who acts like she doesn’t need much. She makes herself easy to have around. Easy to help. Easy to overlook sometimes, if you don’t know better.”
My smile falters.Grayson’s thumb stills against my neck.
“But if you do know better,” Zoe continues, “you know she feels everything. She notices everything. She loves people in these quiet little ways that sneak up on you, until suddenly, your entire life is warmer because she’s in it.”
My eyes start burning.Damn her.
“And for a long time, I wanted someone to see that in her. Not just how talented she is, or how pretty she is, or how funny she is. I wanted someone to see her heart and treat it like it mattered. Like it was precious. Like it deserved to be chosen on purpose.”
Grayson’s hand curls around the back of my neck, lingering.
“And then Grayson came along,” Zoe says, looking at him now. “And I’ll be honest, I had concerns.”
Grayson dips his chin, accepting this with the grace of a man who knows he earned it.
“But he got there,” Zoe says. “Eventually. Dramatically. With help.”
The room chuckles.
“I’ve watched him love her in the big ways, sure. The ring, the wedding, all of this.” She gestures around the room. “But I’ve also watched him love her in the small ways —the way he looks for her first in every room, the way he listens to her.”
I wipe under my eye, cursing her silently.
“And I’ve watched Carly let herself be loved after a really, really shitty few months last year,” Zoe says softly.
A tear dodges my hand and slips down my cheek before I can stop it.
“So I’m happy today,” Zoe says, lifting her glass higher. “I’m happy there are no more fake dates, no more sneaking around, no more pretending this isn’t exactly what it is. No more secrets.”
My stomach flips.
Oh. Oh, no.
Zoe smiles, oblivious, and lifts her glass. “To Carly and Grayson!”
Chairs scrape softly against the floor as everyone stands and glasses lift. The whole room rises around us, andGrayson stands with me, one hand moving down my arm to interlock our fingers, his champagne flute in the other.
No more secrets.
I look down at the two glasses in front of me.
Water and champagne.
But I’ve only touched the water. It’s been only water all afternoon.
“Actually,” I say.
I’m not loud, but the microphone in Zoe’s hand picks it up with her standing close to me, and my voice carries through the speakers just enough for the room to quiet.
