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She closed her eyes and nodded, trying to push the sound out through a throat seized with emotion. How many years had it been since she heard her sister say her name? “Yes, sort of. I'm sorry, but I need to talk to you."
"Okay ... What is it?"
"After a
ll these years, do you still believe you would have been happier if I hadn't told you about Danny?"
A cool hiss of breath came through the line, and Laine thought she was about to be hung up on. But then Gail answered, her voice slow, reflective.
"Maybe. For a while. I was twenty. So young. Danny? It's possible things would have been different between us if I hadn't known. Or maybe if I'd found out for myself what he was like, instead of being so wrapped up in blaming someone else—you—and trying so hard to prove everyone wrong, I might have left him before getting pregnant. But then I wouldn't have my daughters. And Danny is, for the most part, a decent man. I guess I could have done worse. I don't know."
Laine bowed her head, her heart aching for them both. “How are the girls? The pictures at Mom's are beautiful."
Gail's voice brightened, bringing Laine up with her. “The girls are wonderful. So smart and funny.” She laughed. “Trina is five, and she reminds me of you the most. Makes me laugh all the time."
Somehow it made a difference to know that even though her sister hadn't spoken to her, she'd at least thought of her. That was something.
"Laine, I still wish you'd never told me what Danny pulled before the wedding, but not because you were wrong to do it. Because I've missed you so much. I'm sorry. I was wrong and pig-headed. And then I was so embarrassed. It wasn't your fault, and I've know it for a long time. I just had too many problems to face up to fixing this one. Honey, I love you."
Laine choked back a sob, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I love you too."
* * * *Briefcase in hand, Jason walked up to Dolce's darkened storefront. It was familiar, unpleasant, being there again. But it would be worth it in the end. He depressed the bell and rocked back on his heels, checking out the neighborhood. Not much had changed in the years since he'd been here last.
The door to the bakery opened, and Jason waited for Sophia to invite him in.
"Fine. Let's get this over with,” she said in her lilting English. She stood back from the door, one eye squinting slightly at him as she pulled on her imported cigarette.
Jason adjusted the briefcase in his grip and followed her over to a small table by the counter. He swung the case up onto the tabletop, popped it open and spun it around to face her.
Sophia leaned forward, greed in her eyes. It was what he had banked on.
Jason glared at her over the payoff. “Give me the ring, and the money is yours."
Sorting through the bills, she piled them up, fanning one bundle with her thumb. “You're a fool, Jason. You always have been. You were a lovesick puppy ten years ago and looking at you now, I'm guessing you're lovesick for someone new. This ring isn't worth half of what you are paying me, but you want to see it on her finger. Are you so sure she won't make a fool out of you too?"
He didn't doubt Laine. He knew her. Loved her. He wouldn't let old hurts from someone else undermine the faith he had in her. “Just take your money."
"Gladly."
And that was it. After all these years, his grandmother's engagement ring rattled across the table, and back into the Henley line.
It would be perfect on Laine's hand.
* * * *Jason sat in his Mercedes and stared in disbelief at the jubilant wedding party emerging from the hotel's front lobby. The bride and groom looked ecstatic, grins plastered from ear to ear as they ran through a spray of birdseed to the cover of the waiting white limo. It looked as though everything had been perfect ... for someone.
His heart sinking, he removed the small velvet box from his coat pocket and opened it up. The two karat solitaire caught the sun streaming through the dash, reflecting a rainbow of lights around the interior of the car.
How could she have kept the truth from the bride? He'd been so sure. But then he'd been sure about Sophia—a woman who never loved him, but wanted his name and every man she could find between her legs. No one had wanted to tell him, but everyone had known. If he hadn't found her himself that last night before the wedding...
"Damn it,” he growled, snapping the lid closed and stuffing the box back into his pocket, before heading into the hotel.
The doors swished open for him, and he caught sight of Laine tucked into an overstuffed sofa in the lounge. She turned to face him, a sad smile breaking across her face.
Anger hardened inside of him. It was too late now for regrets. The wedding was over. She'd played her part, and he couldn't console her.
Jason turned away and headed to his elevator, where the car was waiting. Stepping inside, he plugged in his key and turned the car to private service. As the doors closed, he looked up and saw Laine, now standing by the exit looking back at him.
In his mind's eye he saw her staring up at him with cake smeared in her hair, looking more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. He saw her waiting half-naked to lure him into the elevator earlier that morning. He saw her the way he had that first night two years ago, giving a toast about romance, love and marriage. About what weddings really meant.
