37. Isla
ISLA
GREENWICH, CONNECTICUT
“I can’t believe you’re leaving already,” Megan said as she came into the guest room where Isla had spent the past few days.
Isla zipped up her suitcase, then went over toward her and gave her a tight hug. “I know. It’s crazy how quickly time flies, right? But Paris is calling. One of them, anyway.”
Megan pulled back, searching her face. “You sure you’re gonna be okay?”
Am I?
Isla had asked herself that question hundreds of times over the last week.
The truth was, she still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten here. After Aiden had announced to everyone that they were married—then left her to deal with the fallout—the next day and a half had been a blur.
She’d argued, shed tears, tried to sort the whole situation out and restore whatever fragile balance to the world she’d taken a wrecking ball to. She wasn’t entirely sure Callum would ever forgive Aiden—and Mason and Quinn seemed equally infuriated by him, too.
And then there was Liddy, the sister she’d never had, who’d been a close friend the last two years. Isla would never forget the hurt in her eyes from the scene at what had basically been her wedding reception.
Mum had been surprisingly unsupportive—maybe because Isla hadn’t confided in her—or maybe because she worried about what Isla’s marriage might mean for the future of La Hacienda.
Of course, Isla and Callum weren’t exactly on speaking terms either.
But in the middle of all that, Dad had thrown Isla a lifeline—bought her a plane ticket to go spend the week in Connecticut. Less than forty-eight hours after the whole fiasco had unfolded, Isla had boarded a plane and fled here, where Megan had offered her a listening ear and a bed to sleep.
And, God, she’d needed it.
Needed to get away from everyone and everything—especially Aiden.
She didn’t want to think about him now, though. He’d called and texted that night, after Callum’s party, and she’d pushed back. Told him she needed time. Not to contact her in the meantime.
Now that time had stretched to five days.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you to the airport? I don’t mind. I can call work and tell them I’ll be late today,” Megan said as Isla pulled the suitcase upright.
“No, it’s fine. The flight to Maine doesn’t leave for another couple of hours, so I think my dad wants to take me to an early lunch.”
Megan bit her lip. After hesitating for a few moments, she ventured, “I know I said I wouldn’t interfere, but I think you might want to try to smooth things over with Davy while you’re in Maine.
You can’t fight battles on all fronts, Isla.
You need your friends sometimes. And we’re here for you—if you allow us to be. ”
Allow.
That was the sticking point, wasn’t it?
Isla let her gaze wander over the bedroom. Comfortably furnished—not by a designer—but by Megan. With her touches. Her taste. She’d only ever stayed here once before this, because she made it a point to avoid Connecticut even though she’d spent part of her life here.
And, other than Diana—who just wasn’t interested—it wasn’t as though anyone from here was mean to her. The Squad had even taken her out to lunch this week.
She’d just thought she was so much better than them all.
She sighed. “Megan?”
Megan lifted her chin. “Hmm?”
“In an effort to differentiate myself from the snobs, I think I’ve been a snob. Including to my own father.”
Her words elicited a soft laugh from Megan.
“I’m not going to argue. ” She grinned. “Look, I’m not going to lie.
The Squad can be a lot. Even that moniker makes me want to stab someone.
But they’re just women at the end of the day.
Women with deep-seated insecurities, Daddy issues, boyfriend and husband problems, bullying traumas that no amount of money can erase. You can’t Botox a wounded heart.”
“Well, you could, but it might stop,” Isla said wryly. She swallowed hard, flushed with guilt. Guilt she needed to let go of to move forward. “Maybe you’re right. But I can’t pretend that what Davy did didn’t hurt. I put my whole life on hold for her.”
“Isla, if you’re willing to believe that you married Aiden Camden that night in Vegas out of some subconscious desire to be with him, it’s worth considering that you agreed to do that production for Davy because you wanted to. Maybe even needed it.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I was just romanticizing the whole decision-making process about Aiden to make me feel better about what happened.” Isla sighed, then lifted her purse onto her shoulder as it buzzed. She dug through it to find her phone and checked it. “My dad’s here.”
“I’ll help you with your suitcase,” Megan said, taking the handle.
They left the room and headed through the small rancher toward the front of the house. “Thanks again for letting me stay here on such short notice,” Isla said as they reached the front door.
Megan held the door for her, and Isla squinted into the bright, sunny day. Perfect crystalline sky. The scent of cherry trees blossoming in the air. Connecticut shone in May.
Dad climbed out of his idling BMW and hurried over, taking the suitcase from Megan. “Let me get that. All set to go?”
“Think so,” Isla said, handing him her carry-on. She turned toward Megan as Dad wheeled her luggage toward the trunk.
“I wish you could come back here and watch the premiere of your show with us tomorrow night,” Megan said. “We’ll all be watching. The Squad wants to throw you and Davy a watch party when you guys have a chance.”
“It’s just the first episode on YouTube. The next one won’t drop for a few more weeks—I’m sure the editing team in London is still working on it.”
“Either way, it would have been fun to see it with you.”
“Ugh.” Isla laughed. “I make it a habit to never watch myself in anything. I can’t stand the way I sound.
Makes me shudder.” Besides, Megan was acting like the premiere was some sort of big deal.
The episode would be releasing to the YouTube Channel and hadn’t even managed to snag a spot on the cable lineup—which wasn’t great for Davy—but Isla doubted many people would be watching.
“Text me from Maine,” Megan said with another hug. “And let me know what’s happening with Aiden. I won’t ask, but obviously, I’m dying to know.”
Isla’s throat clenched, and she nodded, smiling sadly. “I will.”
She climbed into the passenger seat, running her hands over the soft leather. Her father always had a thing for BMWs. Now they reminded her of him, no matter where she was.
“Diana couldn’t join us?” Isla asked, hiding a smile as Dad climbed inside. “What, did she have an unbreakable spa appointment?”
He shook his head. “You’re terrible, you know that?” But he smiled anyway, light blue eyes twinkling with laughter. “Dog grooming appointment, actually. She told me to tell you how crushed she was over the conflict in schedule.”
Isla laughed as her father pulled out of the driveway. “Long as she makes you happy, Dad.”
Dad shrugged. “Happiness is a state of mind. She suits me, I suppose. We’re both content to let each other live the lives we want to live. She never wanted to be a mother, and I guess I took it for granted that you would still want to come visit me once you got older with her around.”
Maybe when she was younger, it had bothered Isla more, but what could any of them do about it now? Her father carried enough guilt about it.
Isla leaned over and squeezed his hand. “It’s all right, Dad. Honestly, I have enough mothering from Mum. The woman has called me five times a day since I left London. I think she’s worried I’m not going back to Costa Rica in a few days like I promised.”
Dad gave her a look of surprise. “I thought you still had to go to France after you film this coming episode?”
“I do, but not for another couple of weeks. We’ve got a short break in the schedule with the show premiering tomorrow, so I’m heading home in the meantime.” She set her hands on her lap and scanned the passing buildings. “Where are we heading?”
“The house, actually. I had Carla make tiramisu and fix those caprese sandwiches you like so much. And I want to give you something while Diana’s out.
” Dad scratched the scruff of his jawline as though he hadn’t shaved this morning.
Her father had always been clean-shaven.
His sandy-blond hair had long since gone white, and he wore glasses now. Callum got his height from him.
Both of them had inherited his blue eyes, much to Mum’s delight. Her own father had had blue eyes.
Isla gave him a curious look. “You secretly handing me the deed to the house?”
Her father laughed. “No, nothing like that. Though, I already told you, I’m more than willing to loan you whatever you need if you need it.
Or pay for a good lawyer for this mess you’re tangled in with Aiden.
I gave Arthur an earful about it, you know.
It’s one thing for you two to quietly annul something like that when it wasn’t splashed around publicly.
But for him to soil your reputation and walk away?—”
“I don’t want Aiden’s money, Dad,” Isla said more seriously, dread pooling in her stomach. “And it’s hardly a real marriage. I’m still fine with an annulment.”
Saying that, though, was the farthest thing from the truth.
She wasn’t fine with an annulment. Not anymore. Not after what she and Aiden had discussed.
But telling her family that?
This , perhaps, had been the worst part of what Aiden had done by leaving her to explain everything to their families.
And it hadn’t just been that night, after the party—when she’d had to sit up with Dad, Mum, Liddy, and Callum and make explanations—but the next day too, to the Camdens.
Aiden hadn’t even bothered returning their calls.
Telling her family about Vegas was humiliating enough—but his?