Chapter 52
Penelope
A couple of months after returning from our trips to the States, Scotland, and Denmark, we’d settled into a new routine in
Singapore. Xander took absolutely no time to make friends. We’d joined a social club here and it wasn’t long before he knew
more people in Singapore than I did.
It was a relief. He might not have liked change, but Xander was more adaptable than he gave himself credit for.
His easy grace with strangers abated the occasional guilt when I recollected how happy we all were over the winter holidays.
“You still don’t like raspberries?” I questioned. I watched from my seat at our intimate two-person table as Arabella’s face
fell when the tiny chocolate tarte she ordered was placed in front of her.
Weekly lunches with Arabella helped remind me of everything I had here. The part of my heart that felt cracked healed as my
sister and I found our footing again.
“No, I like them, but why would you put fruit in a dessert?” Her upper lip curled a bit as she took the back of her spoon
and pushed the raspberry compote off the top, careful not to disturb the mousse. “It ruins the fruit, and it ruins the dessert.”
“Then why order it?” I took a spoonful of ice cream that I ordered for that exact reason.
“Habit. It’s sophisticated.” She shrugged, looking at my dessert wistfully. I pushed it to the center of the table, and she sank a spoon into it. “James was always a little judgmental when I ordered something that wasn’t dainty.”
“Speaking of James...” I said quietly. After we returned from the holidays away, I began to see a clearer picture of Arabella’s
relationship with James.
Things like finding out that he was controlling and often discouraged her independence, making her feel isolated and like
she was unworthy of pursuing ventures that might make her feel fulfilled outside of homemaking.
“I’m going ahead with it.” Arabella nodded, stirring her spoon around the tea. “The divorce.”
I tried not to interject my own bias. I tried to help her make the decision she wanted. But even so, I felt like I could cry
with relief. “I’m proud of you.”
Her cheeks lifted.
There were a couple of our weekly lunches that bled into dinner when Arabella would weigh her options over hours of conversation.
She begged me to not speak a word to anyone. She’d told me that she wasn’t in physical danger, but I had trouble feeling like
she was safe when they were in the same house.
“This calls for champagne.” I politely motioned to our waiter.
A loud, nasaled laugh squeaked out of my sister. The same one from when we were girls. “It’s a little early for that, besides,
that’s not all.”
I still ordered the champagne. I was at least celebrating. “It’s not?”
She shook her head. “I was chatting with your friend CeCe while she was here back in November. She worked at Vogue and planned a lot of events there.”
I nodded. Before CeCe abruptly left Vogue she did quite a bit in terms of getting the right people at the right parties for them.
“And then after I decided to go ahead with the divorce, I started thinking about what I wanted.” Arabella looked down at her
lap, twisting the napkin. “And you inspired me to take a chance.”
My heart squeezed a bit. The knowledge that this relationship could have been one we had for years stung, but it was quickly
washed away by the hopeful smile on Arabella’s face.
“Did I?”
She nodded. “It turns out that Vogue has an opening in their event management team. I’ve planned a million parties.”
“Arabella...” The pieces slowly fell into place.
“I’ve never left home for anything past vacations. And I was always so jealous of that life you had. Glittering and glamorous
in Manhattan.” She chewed on her lower lip.
My mouth hung open just slightly.
“Are you...” An almost delirious fog began to clear. “Moving?”
“I know you planned to stay in Singapore awhile...” She straightened in her seat. “And I know you stayed here for me.”
“Not just you.” I reached across the table for her free hand. She was a part of it. Of course, she was. In the last four months,
we’d done more to repair our relationship than we had in years. I was happy we stayed. “For me, too.”
“Really? Because I’ve never really been on my own. I could use a big sister’s advice from time to time.” She smiled nervously.
“Maybe we can test that good nature your husband has, and you can go back with me? I’m sure Liv would understand and visit.”
“Xander will probably be open to the idea,” I assured her. My entire chest lightened at the prospect of going back, before
the reality of what else that meant settled in. “And James?”
Divorces, especially international ones, took time.
“I’ll have the lawyers serve him the papers once I’m in Manhattan.” An inflection curved the last few words upward.
As both a lawyer and product of an international divorce, I was well aware of just how hard that would be. “That’s going to
be messy.”
“You have no idea,” she mumbled quietly to herself. A silent moment passed, and she looked at me with conviction. “I can’t
stay.”
“Well, this time, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
I’d have to settle another move with the firm. But they were amenable to a remote setup before, and I had a feeling once Sloan
found out I planned to move back, she’d move heaven and earth with the rest of the partners to make sure it happened.