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Instead, I nod. “Always.”
“Hey guys, does everyone know Regan Landel? Her family founded Rivers Wilde and her twin brother is a friend of both of ours.” Confidence, her eyes bright as Regan approaches.
Hayes is glaring at me with a warning in his expression. I don’t know what came over me yesterday. I know better. If there’s one thing Hayes isn’t good at, it’s minding his own business.
“Well, now I know why Landel never lets her out of his sight. And why he’s so damn possessive. I heard some guy lost a finger for dancing too close to his ‘crown jewel’ at a fundraiser.”
I roll my eyes but inwardly my insides feel like water. “He’s a publisher, not a gangster and if she’s his crown jewel, why is she here without him?”
Beau scoffs and smirks conspiratorially. “I’ve heard his family’s publishing and real estate is just a front for other stuff.”
By “he’s heard,” he means Cadence told him. That woman has a talent for curating and aggregating gossip that seems to far outweigh her talent for anything else.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve got reliable insider info, but given that I’ve spent the last year living in a city where corruption and crime are a way of life for most people, I can tell you the wives of men who are really involved with the cartels don’t travel through Mexico alone.”
“Okay, well, you go ahead and think that, and I’m going to get a tequila sunrise and enjoy the suddenly much improved view.”
Goodbye
Regan
Confidence looks as fresh as a daisy and radiates with happiness. I let down some of my reserve to give her a genuine hug of congratulations. Hayes got an air kiss. When she got to Stone, my inflection and expression were exactly the same with him, as they were with everyone else, she introduced me to.
She sat me across from him, in between Dare and her best friend, Cass.
Cass has been preoccupied with her date. Dare has been preoccupied with his phone. And Stone has been preoccupied with glaring at me.
I haven’t looked at him properly since I walked in, and it’s killing me. I miss him. The days we spent together were amazing. We took pictures, posed like a couple, held hands as we toured ruins, fucked in the ocean, and for a brief moment, I forgot who I was.
But Hayes’ visit sobered me up really quick. This brunch is exactly what we both need. A reminder of what life would really be like if we were to try to take this beyond this trip.
Confidence’s mother finishes her speech, and I can’t take another second of Stone’s glaring.
I surge to my feet and turn an apologetic smile toward the newlyweds.
“I hate to cut into your speeches, but my car is leaving for the airport soon.” I can feel Stone’s body tense. But I still don’t dare look at him.
“Before I go, I want to wish the happy couple well. Marriage shouldn’t be hard. People who say that are crazy. It should be easy and fun and loving and safe. Anything less than that, you’re in for a lifetime of misery, divorce, or jail.” A small ripple of laughter surprises me. “I’m not joking. Discovery ID wouldn’t have more than two hours of programming, if it weren’t for all the wives and husbands who try to kill each other.”
Confidence gasps, and someone clears their throat. I grimace in apology. “Not that you’re in any danger of that. You two are clearly very much in love.” I smile at them both, letting the sincere warmth I feel for her show. “Focus on that.”
Hayes’ jaw tightens, but his expression is as civil as mine.
“You’re lucky to have found each other. Most people never get the timing quite right.”
That is when I look at Stone. His expression is grave, and his eyes are wide with an emotion I can’t name, but it makes me want to cry. I hate leaving like this, but it’s for the best.
I turn back to the happy couple and raise my glass. “Congratulations. Cheers to forever.”
“Welcome Mrs. Landel. Please make yourself comfortable,” the woman whose name tag reads “Paulina” greets me, as I walk into the lounge for private charters. I walked out of Pacifico and got straight into the waiting car that brought me to the airport.
Time to head back to my real life, and there was no point in dragging it out because I wanted one more night of feeling good.
My feelings won’t change anything, and one more night will just make the inevitable even harder.
I pluck a bottle of water from the table, where an assortment of bottled drinks are nestled in a silver ice bucket, and gulp half of it down, before I drop my sore, soul weary, self into one of the winged armchairs. I free my feet from the heels that, after a week of sandals and bare feet, feel like torture devices, and slip on the flip flops in my tote.
I pull out my phone and check my messages. The first one is from Tyson.
