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65
PAIGE
“I have something to tell you!” Cyrille drops down into the lawn chair next to mine, scaring the bejeezus out of me.
I shield my eyes from the sun. I’ve been staring blankly at the same page of my book for hours while I roast in the heat and wait for Misha to call or text or come home to me. It’s been two days and still no sign of it, though.
“I didn’t know you were coming by today.”
“Sorry, I should have texted.” She dismisses the words with a wave as soon as she says them. “But I have something to tell you.”
“Yeah, you said that.” I chuckle, but a knot of anxiety is forming in my stomach. If something has her this worked up, I’m willing to bet it’s big. “Is everything okay?”
“I kissed another man.”
I stare at her open-mouthed, trying to process.
She winces and wraps her arms around her knees. “Please say something.”
“Um, well… congrats on the sex, first of all,” I stammer awkwardly. I shake my head and smile. “I’m sorry. You caught me off-guard, that’s all. I was expecting something diff—I mean, this is good. This is good, Cy! Who’s the lucky man?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re excited for me.”
I frown. “Okay. I was, but should I not be? Am I missing something?”
Cyrille glances at the two glasses on the table between our chairs and suddenly goes ghost-white. “Oh my God. Were you out here with Nessa? Where is she? Can she hear us?”
I reach over and touch her bouncing knee. “Relax. Nessa has a meeting with one of her charity boards this morning. She’s not even here. Both glasses are mine; I’m just thirsty and I couldn’t decide if I wanted tea or lemonade. Back to the point: why are you so jumpy?”
“Didn’t you just hear me?” Cyrille bleats. “I kissed another man! I don’t want my mother-in-law to know that.”
“Cyrille, honey, you do realize this isn’t cheating, right?”
“Then why does it feel so much like it?” She drops her face into her hands. “I feel so guilty.”
I got the glass of lemonade for myself. It’s the only thing that settles my stomach these days. But Cyrille needs it more than me.
“Here.” I press the glass into her hand. “Take a drink.”
She takes a reluctant sip and wrinkles her nose. “Paige, this is not a problem lemonade can fix. I need hard liquor.”
“This isn’t a problem, babe. It’s been more than seven months. You’re allowed to move on.”
She bites her lip. “That’s the thing—I’m not moving on, really. I don’t even know if I like this guy. Not yet. It’s more… physical.”
“Well. That’s, uh… certainly something.”
“Oh God,” she gasps again, dropping her face back into her hands.
I reach out and grab her wrists to make her look at me. “You need to stop. This is not a bad thing.”
“It’s Pavel. His name is Pavel.”
I stop short. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
