Page 88 of Gin and Bear It

“Yes, he asked me a week ago!” Ally puts her hand out, revealing a modest but beautiful diamond.

“You know how it is.” Troy smiles at her, love written all over his face. I’ve long lost my feelings for him, but it still sucks to see. No one has ever looked at me like that, especially not him. “It just clicked.”

“Same with us,” Ash says, his deep voice cutting in. “I’m Jada’s husband, Ash.”

Troy blinks and extends his hand to Ash, which he shakes as he gives Ash the sizing up I’ve noticed people give him regularly—a scan of the tattoos on his arms before going up to his face. It’s not a judgmental look, but it bothers me nonetheless.

“Husband?” Troy puts on his regular smile again, even though his eyes are tinged with confusion. “Since when? I was working in Europe for a year and you get married?”

“Yep, it’s recent,” I say.

“Married. Wow.” Troy shakes his head. Not in disappointment, but more in shock.

I get it—the last time we spoke and I cussed him out for lying to my grandmother was what, last year around when my grandparents passed? And I hadn’t mentioned dating. But an insecure part of me wonders if he’s shocked because he never thought I’d find anyone else.

“Usually people say congrats when it comes to this kind of thing.” Ash puts his arm around my waist.

“Ash…” I lightly squeeze his hand that rests on my hip.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Troy laughs and puts his arm around Ally. “I understand the protective urge. Congratulations.”

He understands fucking everything. A rush of faded but still irritating memories come back. Whenever I brought up a concern about our relationship, he always brushed me off with “I understand,” even when he absolutely did not. He just said it to placate me.

“So you’ve gotten married and you’re still running the hotel?” Troy asks, leaning into his fiancée. “I assume the bar renovation is done?”

I know he’s well intentioned, probably, but his tone nags at me. The bar renovation was a point of contention, and he had very strong opinions on it. He hated my timeline. He hated my ideas. Finally, he threw his hands up and said I could handle it—but judged me in his annoying, subtle way.

“It’s almost done. We hit a few snags,” I say. “We’re planning the launch. It’ll be in late September.”

“Good, good,” he says. “It’ll be great. I know you’ll manage to hit those deadlines.”

Again, there’s that friendly look on his face that makes me feel like I’m hearing the wrong thing and seeing the right thing. Is he being condescending, or am I too sensitive? I’m an adult and I made it this far. Just because I didn’t follow his exact plan doesn’t mean that I’m not getting anywhere.

“I will,” I say. Why is he up my ass? “How was Europe? What countries were you working in?”

“I’m sure it was fine,” Ash says, cutting Troy off before he can even speak. “Don’t you have other people to talk to, Troy?”

“Ash,” I say, looking up at him. I want to give him a little pinch.

“It’s alright.” Troy’s smile has gone tight. “We just got here and need to make the rounds. Congratulations again.”

He and Ally move on, and the tension leaves my shoulders.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” I say as Ash steers us to an open spot in the living room. “We were cordial.”

“Is that what you’re calling that?” Ash scoffs. “That’s not what I saw.”

Before I can grill him about it, one of my friends from undergrad waves to us. We flit from conversation to conversation, dealing with the inevitable confusion and sometimes excitement that we’re married. Troy fades into the background of the evening, and thankfully, the rest of the night goes smoothly. Everyone else is excited for my professional accomplishments, too.

At some point, I start yawning, and Ash suggests we go home. We’ve been here long enough, so I say a few goodbyes and we head out.

We hold hands on the way back to the car, even though we don’t really have to. It’s comforting in the slightly cool night, like he’s guiding me along and I don’t even need my eyes open.

The knot that’s been in my chest, worrying about tonight, is finally gone. Aside from the blip with my ex, the conversations were pleasant and surface level. People didn’t dig too much into Ash’s past or what he was doing—he just said he was working for the family company while transitioning away from being a touring musician.

“What was that about?” I ask once we’re in the car, off campus and onto the highway back toward Jepsen. “With Troy.”

“He gave me a bad vibe.” Ash shrugs. “Why the fuck was he like that? And he had that stupid smile on his face the whole time.”