Chapter 40
“Can you get pregnant from just the tip?”
Gia lowers her mimosa and starts coughing.
Nope, I realize a few seconds later. She’s not coughing; she’s laughing.
“God, I missed you, Wren,” Gia tells me, literally wiping tears from her eyes. “Life when you’re in England is so boring.”
I roll my eyes, reaching for my own flute of orange juice–flavored champagne.
“Can you drink in your condition?” Gia mock whispers.
I glare at her, downing most of the glass just to prove a point. We’re tucked away in a private corner of the patio, so close to the water that the briny breeze keeps attempting to steal our linen napkins, but we’re not the only ones sitting out here.
“Mrs. Danvers would be so disappointed,” my friend continues, referring to our former health teacher. “The tip is the only part that can get you pregnant.”
My stomach does an uncomfortable shimmy. A side effect of the bubbles probably. The odds that I got knocked up this morning are extremely low. I just became accustomed to no odds—the sole upside of celibacy. And I figured Gia would laugh off the possibility, not reference an anatomy lesson.
“Pierre was too impatient to wrap it, huh?” Gia smirks, taking another sip of her drink. “That’s hard to picture.”
Gia only met Pierre once. She visited over New Year’s, and we went clubbing. Danced while Pierre dutifully watched our drinks, even though I tried to pull him out with us. Gia’s not wrong—that glimpse of his personality was pretty accurate.
“Pierre and I broke up.”
She nods, not looking terribly surprised. “You broke it off because of Italy?”
“I was planning to. Then he proposed.”
That sets off another round of hacking giggles. “Oh. My. God.” Gia reaches for her glass, realizes it’s empty, then motions to the waiter for a refill. “Ring, one knee, the whole shebang?”
“Yeah.”
“Were you tempted?”
“To say yes?”
Gia bobs her head, thanking the waiter who’s refilling her glass.
I glance away, toward the ocean. Today’s a perfect day, clear and sunny, the sea and the sky contrasting shades of blue. So tame. So different from my last trip here. “No. I was … shocked. I mean, we weren’t that serious.”
“He was serious about you.”
I adjust my sunglasses, then glance at Gia. “Well, I know that now.”
“He saw his one shot, and he took it. Honestly, I respect it.”
“He saw dollar—pound—signs.”
Pierre didn’t really need my money. He asked me out without knowing my last name.
But his dad had died when he was young, and he’s taken care of his mother—and her expensive tastes—ever since.
He was part of a crowd at Cambridge, made up of descendants of nobility and royalty and prime ministers.
Families like the Marlboroughs, who Lili is marrying into.
Pierre wouldn’t have married me for my money, and I’m sure he would have been a model husband in every way, but he certainly viewed my wealth as an asset.
“Would you tell him?”
It takes me a few seconds—and a meaningful look at my stomach—for me to comprehend what Gia is asking.
“There wouldn’t be anything to tell Pierre.”
Gia winks. “Ooh! I love a summer fling.”
She doesn’t judge me for moving on so quickly, which is one of the reasons we’re such good friends. We’re entertained by each other’s questionable decisions, not scolding.
Besides, I didn’t move on. Pierre was an attempt at moving on. But in the end, all it did was show me I’m still stuck in the same place I’ve been since I was seventeen.
Gia gets up to use the restroom a few minutes later.
I relax into the wicker chair, scanning the patio of the hotel restaurant.
I’ve only been here a handful of times before, and I’ve never spent the night at the hotel.
I’ve always stayed at my aunt and uncle’s place or my parents’ house now.
Gia’s family has a place on the Cape, so they stay here when they’re in the Hamptons.
I finish my mimosa, waving the waiter off when he moves to refill it. Unlike Gia, I have to drive home.
After Sawyer left, I snuck back to my parents’ early, showering and making a production of getting ready for brunch while Mom answered work emails in her office down the hall. I’m ninety percent sure she has no idea I was out all night.
I sort of wish Mom had caught me. Wish I had to tell someone what happened between me and Sawyer because I have no idea what the next move is with Mr. Get Out or Get Naked.
I don’t know how he got injured or if he’s finished with baseball for good.
Don’t know if he’s back here for good or only for the summer.
Don’t know anything really about his past two years or his plans for the remainder of his life.
Last night, he just wanted to get laid. But this morning? This morning felt different. Felt like before, and I’m simultaneously relieved and scared that sensation can still exist between us.
A woman walks out onto the patio and over to the small building that serves as the outdoor bar, saying something to one of the men working there.
I stand and walk that way. The woman turns, pausing when she sees me, surprise blanching across her face.
“Hi, Cammie.” I smile, shoving my sunglasses up to the top of my head. Bonus: they keep my unruly hair from sticking to my lips. “How are you?”
“Wren.” She sort of sighs my name as she steps closer. “I’m fine. You?”
“I’m great!” I reply, keeping my tone cheerful. I know Cammie didn’t like me before, but I never had a real issue with her. And I figured she’d be thrilled I’d removed myself from Sawyer’s life. “I came for my cousin’s engagement party.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Cammie crosses her arms. “I heard about that. Are you staying here?”
I shake my head. “Just grabbing brunch with a friend.”
“How long are you staying for?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I haven’t decided yet. Want to hang out before I leave?”
I’m teasing mostly because Cammie doesn’t seem to like me any more than she used to.
I’m not opposed to the idea though. I missed Gus and Sawyer’s entire group of friends.
With the exception of Gia, I’ve hardly kept in touch with anyone from high school.
Everyone scattered to different schools.
Plus, I’ve been in a different time zone. On a separate continent.
She ignores the question, asking one of her own instead. “You aren’t going to the marina, right?”
“I wasn’t planning on it. Why?”
I think I know why. But I’m curious what answer she’ll give.
“I’m glad you’re great, Wren, but I can’t say I’m glad to see you. Not after the shit you pulled, just disappearing like that—”
“Aww. You missed me?”
A grimace twists Cammie’s expression. How she normally looks at me. “Everything is a fucking joke to you, isn’t it? Must be nice, never having any consequences. Doing whatever you want, whenever you want, never giving a shit who you hurt in the process.”
Now I’m scowling too. “You don’t know anything about my life.”
“Of course I do, Wren. I watched you sail into this town like you owned the place. Was here when you left without a word too.”
“We weren’t friends, Cammie. You expected a goodbye?”
“I’m not talking about me!” She releases a long exhale. “Look, all I’m asking is, you stay away from the marina. Cap is doing really well. He’s manager there now and starting college this fall—”
“What?” I whisper. “He is?”
Cammie’s expression hardens into a mask of disapproval.
“I never liked you because I knew exactly how you and Cap would end. And it was so much worse than I’d thought it would be.
You fucked him up good. As someone who had to drive his truck home more than once because of the damage you had done, all I’m asking is, you avoid the places you know he’ll be.
If that’s too much trouble, you’re even more of a bitch than I thought you were. ”
I gape at her. “I’m great now, Cammie. I haven’t been great the past two years. It hurt me, too, when we ended, and you don’t know the half of what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t? So, you didn’t write him back … because, what, the letters got lost in the mail?”
“What letters?” I ask, bewildered. “From high school?”
“High school?” She shakes her head impatiently. “No. After you left.”
“Are you ordering another round?” Gia appears next to me, glancing at the bar, then at Cammie.
Cammie shoots her a tight smile. “I work at reception, not in the restaurant. But Robbie or one of the other servers would be happy to take your order.” She turns on her heel and heads back inside without another word to me.
Gia elbows me. “So? You ordering another drink?”
“Uh, no,” I say as we head back to our table. “No, I’m all set.”
My head is already spinning. But it has nothing to do with alcohol.