The Group Trip

Chapter 6

This Year

“T HIS IS NOT THE same,” Chloe says as she steps out of the car Sloane arranged to pick them up at the airport. Chloe and Wyatt arrive together because they took the same flight from DC. Marianne would be arriving later. Maybe Luke is already here—Chloe isn’t sure, she hasn’t asked.

“It’s an upgrade from that motel for sure,” Wyatt says, eyeing Sloane and Alden’s new home. Chloe smiles, thinking about their first spring break trip to Panama City. Unquestionably, this house is nice. And unquestionably, Chloe would rather sleep in a cramped, musty motel room if it meant avoiding Luke this week.

“Sloane and Alden’s whole life is an upgrade,” Chloe states.

Last year, Alden sold his company for a stupid amount of money. At least, that’s how Alden described it. Sloane was a little more modest, saying they were very comfortable .

But when you have enough money to be very comfortable for the rest of your life, regardless of whether you work or not, Alden’s description is probably more accurate. Chloe agrees that it’s stupid to have that much money at twenty-nine years old.

Alden plans on investing in other tech start-ups while Sloane continues her interior design business, just being more selective with clients. Sloane has always wanted to live near the beach and now they have enough money to do that.

Chloe and Wyatt hesitate outside the entrance, a giant white oak panel that seems too heavy to actually function as a door. It’s weathered to look like it’s survived decades of sea winds even though the house was built last year.

Chloe feels a welcome breeze as she stands immobile. After years of living in the South, Chloe knows that for most of the year it’s too hot to be outside unless you are submerged in some body of water. But in April, there’s an occasional breeze, especially if you’re close to an ocean, and there’s no more perfect feeling. Every part of Chloe’s body wants to stand still, to delay entering this house and facing Luke and the past, and the perfect weather isn’t making it any easier to step inside.

Wyatt raises his fist to knock on the beautiful front door, and Chloe wants to tell him to stop, because it’s too nice to knock on and there has to be some gong-like bell to ring. But also because she wants one more moment of peace.

Before Chloe can speak, Sloane flings the door open and squeals, “You’re here!”

“We are!” Chloe says, trying to mimic Sloane’s enthusiasm.

“That was not convincing,” Wyatt whispers. “Your happy voice needs some work, Chloe.”

Sloane waves her hand, dismissing Wyatt, and walks inside, immediately describing tiny details about the design of the herringbone floors and the exposed wooden beams in the two-story living room. But it’s hard to focus on those details because all Chloe sees is ocean and all she feels is panic.

“Anyone else here?” Chloe asks.

“Yes,” Sloane states. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Luke is here. He got in this morning. He’s with Alden on the beach right now.”

Chloe’s eyes dart over to Wyatt, who shrugs, seeming to reply You knew this . Chloe has imagined various scenarios for when she will see Luke for the first time, and she’s still unable to predict how he’s going to react. A part of her wants to complain that it is unnatural to have to see an ex again. That’s why you break up. You end the relationship. Except Luke isn’t just an ex. He’s part of her family. And she’s put off seeing him for long enough.

Sloane stares at Chloe and says, “You have the house to yourself for thirty minutes. That’s how long I’m allowing you to act awkward, and then you need to put on your big girl panties and handle the mess you created.”

“Please don’t say panties, Sloane.” Wyatt carries their suitcases inside and drops them on the floor.

“Go find the boys on the beach,” Sloane instructs.

“Nah. I want to watch Chloe act awkward,” Wyatt says.

“You got Chloe for the last three hours on the flight. I get her now. Leave.” Sloane points toward the wall of glass that opens to merge the living room with an expansive deck.

“Alden’s skin will blind you. He should be easy to find,” Sloane says.

“How can Alden be pale if you guys are living at the beach?” Chloe asks.

“Because he still loooves his computers,” Sloane drawls. “It’s a wild world of computer programming, and his exploration cannot be restrained.”

Chloe laughs and is instantly comforted by the dichotomy that is Sloane and Alden’s relationship. They’ve always been an unlikely pair, except that they are equal in their fierce devotion to each other. It’s something Chloe has always envied.

Wyatt walks over to the fridge and gets a beer. “I’ll see you guys later,” he says and turns toward Chloe, mouthing Good luck .

As Wyatt closes the door, Chloe wonders how far he will have to go to find Alden and Luke. Are they somewhere up the beach, a safe distance away? Or, more likely, will he find them quickly, a rush of half hugs and easy banter as the trio is reunited? And then Luke will know that Chloe is here, the timer set on a reunion they both would rather avoid.

Sloane gives Chloe a tour of the downstairs, delaying the conversation Chloe knows is coming. But it is obvious that Sloane is proud of this house, as she should be. The kitchen with its grand marble island, deep gray veining matching the woven rattan barstools. Oversized pendants with accents of brass highlighting the fourteen-foot ceilings.

There’s a bowl on the kitchen counter overflowing with lemons. Too many lemons for any person to ever use at one time. Other than that one pop of yellow, everything else is neutral. Shades of sand and driftwood and sea glass that feel so grown up compared to the thrift store furnishings that make up Chloe’s apartment. The calm surroundings of Sloane’s house fail to mitigate the chaos Chloe feels in her mind.

Sloane hooks her arm around Chloe’s and leads her upstairs. “This is your room,” she says, pointing to the end of the hallway. All Chloe can see is the giant king-sized bed stacked with fluffy white pillows and linen bedding. She wants to dive in and hide there for the rest of the week. When Chloe walks into the room, Sloane following, she takes in the bright white plaster walls, the chaise lounge in the corner, and the giant window overlooking the Gulf.

“It’s stunning,” Chloe says, before spinning around and seeing a familiar bag in the corner.

Chloe spots Luke’s leather duffel, and then the sleeve of his blazer hanging in the closet, and her eyes narrow.

“Sloane, you’re insane. Luke has clearly already put his stuff here.”

Sloane shrugs. “There are only four bedrooms. Two of you have to share.”

“Then Marianne and I will share a room. Obviously.” Chloe turns and immediately walks out of the room, Sloane trailing closely behind. “I know you, Sloane. Please don’t do this. It’s a big enough deal that Luke and I are both here this week. Don’t try to force us together.”

“I think the problem is that I haven’t been doing enough forcing. It’s been a busy year, and I’ve been thinking of other things, but now my focus is back where it needs to be. Getting you and Luke back together.”

“Don’t push your luck. Being in the same house is a big enough step.” Chloe shifts her bag and asks, “Which room is the farthest from Luke’s?”

“Go down there,” Sloane sighs, pointing Chloe toward a room at the opposite end of the hall.

They pass a primary suite that looks straight out of a magazine and then the room where Wyatt is staying, the walls painted a warm chocolate.

Sloane points to the room with two twin beds, a perfectly logical sharing scenario and sighs, “This will have to do.” It’s the fanciest place Chloe has stayed this year.

“This is perfect.” Chloe drops her bag at the foot of the bed, surveys the adjoining bathroom and the lush ivory carpet that she hopes she doesn’t stain. “I like sharing with Marianne. It gives us more time to talk.”

Sloane rolls her eyes. “I need to move some things around since you’re messing up my room arrangements.”

“I’ll help,” Chloe says, trying to appease her friend, an impossible task. Sloane is never happy when her plans are disrupted. Usually it’s not worth the fight, but in this instance, Chloe will suffer the consequences. She’s not sharing a room with Luke, even if it means upsetting Sloane.

They step into the hallway and Chloe notices a closed door. “What’s in there?”

“That room is not finished,” Sloane says.

“I love seeing your projects.” Chloe steps forward and opens the door just as Sloane tries to block her entry. For someone who’s been rattling off the names of paint colors and furniture sources for every room, Sloane seems strangely private about this space.

When Chloe looks inside, she understands why. It’s not unfinished. Every detail is precisely planned, from the oversized teddy bear propped in the corner to the rattan rocking horse under the window. Chloe walks into the room and takes it all in—the closet full of baby clothes, the muslin blanket draped over the crib, the changing table stuffed with tiny diapers.

“Oh, Sloane.” Chloe looks over her shoulder at her friend lurking in the doorway, somehow unable to step foot in a place that she’s clearly spent hundreds of hours designing.

Sloane shrugs. “I like to be prepared.”

“It’s going to happen,” Chloe says, mustering every ounce of positivity she can find.

Sloane’s eyes start to fill and she bites her cheek, stopping the tears before they fall. She nods her head, and that seems to be the only response she’s capable of making.

“Do you want to talk about …”

“Absolutely not.” Sloane ends the sentence and leaves the room, shouting over her shoulder. “Don’t bring it up again. That’s not what this week is about.”

Chloe sighs and gently closes the door to the nursery. She isn’t sure what this week is supposed to achieve, but they’ve already succeeded in ignoring their problems. Sloane used to tell her everything, and now there’s an even thicker wall around her friend’s heart.

Chloe knew things would be awkward with Luke, but she isn’t prepared for Sloane awkwardness. Five minutes into the trip and Chloe already feels like she’s walking on eggshells. She wants an honest conversation with the best friend she misses like a phantom limb, but she knows better than to push someone in pain. Instead, she waits, sitting in a room alone, worried she’s going to use the wrong towels when she washes her face. They should be discussing the hundred ways their lives have changed over the last year. Chloe fears all those changes stole away their comfort with each other.

Chloe hears Sloane opening and closing closet doors, her friend’s movement the only sound echoing in the giant house. She looks out the window. The water is emerald green, and she can’t help but think about the engagement ring that was almost on her finger. She looks down at the powder-white sand beach and sees three figures walking toward the house. Wyatt’s jeans are rolled up because he didn’t bother changing before joining Alden and Luke. Sloane was right about Alden, his skin does seem to reflect the sunlight in a disturbing manner, but seeing his lanky stride in the outfit Sloane clearly bought for him is a familiar comfort.

And then Luke. It’s unfair that, even after everything, he still has the power to pause Chloe’s functioning. She reminds her heart and lungs that their operation is required, forcing herself to inhale deeply and slow her racing heart.

It shouldn’t be so easy to remember the feeling of her head resting against Luke’s chest. How his palm would rub circles on the small of her back as they stood in conversation with others. Those memories should have been erased along with their relationship, and yet Chloe can’t suppress the haunting comfort of her ear absorbing his heartbeat.

She pulls the curtains closed tight and shakes her head. She needs a glass of wine and a game plan for surviving this week.

A familiar female voice shouts, “I’m here!” and Chloe smiles. Marianne. Many times in their friendship, Chloe has known that Marianne is the solution to all of their problems. Practical, joyful, and steady, the balm of Marianne’s presence is exactly what she needs at this moment.

Chloe runs downstairs and finds Marianne standing in the entryway, her arms loaded with bags. She snakes her arms around Marianne’s waist, forcing her to drop the luggage and hug her friend in return.

“I have missed you so much,” Chloe sighs.

Marianne leans her head back and exhales. “Me too. You have no idea how nice it is to hug a human being without them trying to bite your nipple.”

“I’m sober now, but watch out later tonight.” Chloe shimmies her shoulders as Marianne laughs.

Chloe takes a step back, examining her friend. Marianne’s hair is longer, her usual chestnut bob replaced by a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her petite frame is softer than before, but Chloe knows they’re all softer as they’ve gotten older. And Marianne is the only one of them who has actually grown an entire human being in her body.

Mostly, Chloe sees exhaustion in Marianne’s eyes and bliss across her face, and for the first time Chloe thinks that maybe this week isn’t a complete mistake. Because she can’t wait to spend the night catching up with Marianne.

“You’re stuck with me this week. We’re roomies,” Chloe says.

“That’s okay. I was hoping we’d get to share. Plus, I’ve already taken a bath in the big tub,” Marianne says.

“Huh?” Chloe asks.

Sloane walks over and kisses Marianne’s cheek. “Marianne and Noah came for a long weekend right before Teddy was born,” she explains.

“Oh,” Chloe says, wishing she had already known that.

Sloane seems to sense Chloe’s discomfort. “It was the week you moved to DC. I knew you couldn’t come. Besides, she was such a horny pregnant woman there are things my ears can never unhear. Trust me, it was good you missed that trip.”

Marianne points her finger in Sloane’s direction. “Just wait. You’ll see what it’s like when there are so many hormones running through your body” She puts her arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “I’ve missed you as much as I’ve missed sleep.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Chloe says, leaning into Marianne’s side so tightly she can smell her coconut shampoo. “Show me pictures. All of them.”

Marianne laughs. “We don’t have that long. My entire phone is full of pictures of Teddy.”

Sloane is not a hugger, but even she can’t seem to resist the reunion. She grabs both of their hands and says, “I can’t believe we’re finally all together again. I’ve missed my girls.”

“Let’s go upstairs and unpack. You can show me the pictures of Teddy while Sloane criticizes our wardrobe,” Chloe says.

“Let’s look at pictures later,” Sloane says before she quickly adds, “when we have enough time for Marianne to tell us everything …” Sloane trails off and Chloe notices her friend flinch slightly. Marianne stares at her phone and misses Sloane’s face. “We have to get ready for tonight,” Sloane says.

“Okay,” Chloe replies. “What’s first on the agenda?”

“They’re almost set up on the beach,” Sloane explains.

“For what?” Marianne asks.

“Dinner,” Sloane says. “As soon as the boys get back, we’ll move down to the beach for dinner. I’ve set up a welcome bonfire.”

Chloe walks over to the window and sees a crew setting up chairs and tables on the sand. “That’s for us?”

“Of course. It’s our spring break kickoff dinner. Why don’t you change into that white Reformation dress?” Sloane says, walking upstairs and leading Chloe and Marianne into their bedroom.

“I don’t have a white Reformation dress,” Chloe says absently.

“Yes, you do. I’m almost done moving your things since you insisted on changing rooms.” Being friends with Sloane requires a certain level of going along with things that they have learned to accept over the years. A few minutes later, Sloane returns with full arms and starts hanging items in the closet.

Chloe walks over and sees a beautiful white silk dress. It is practically backless, with thin straps that would cross over her shoulder blades. As Chloe pulls the dress out of the closet, the thigh-high slit flaps open.

“I can’t wear that. I’ll freeze,” Chloe says.

“It’s eighty-four. You’ll be fine,” Sloane says.

“Okay. I can’t wear that for other reasons,” Chloe says.

Sloane crosses her arms, waiting for Chloe to elaborate. When she doesn’t, Sloane says, “You are a guest in my home and have been gifted a stunning, chic welcome outfit. Try. It. On.”

Marianne tries to muffle her laughter but fails. Sloane spins around. “I wasn’t sure what size you’d be so I got you shoes instead of a dress. You look phenomenal, by the way. And I have an eye mask that will take care of those dark circles.”

As Chloe goes into the bathroom with the dress, she sees Sloane handing Marianne a sheet of paper. Marianne smiles and immediately tucks it into her bag. Sloane’s face is full of smug satisfaction. Whatever was on the paper made her friends happy, erasing the tension that seemed to be building with Sloane. Chloe closes the bathroom door and decides she’ll wear the dress. After all, Sloane has gone to so much trouble.

“I’m going to check in with the caterers,” Sloane says through the bathroom door. “I’ll see you downstairs in ten minutes.” There’s zero trace of question in Sloane’s voice.

Chloe looks at herself in the mirror. As much as Sloane can be controlling, she’s also very good at knowing exactly what’s right for someone. It’s an overbearing personality born from accuracy. And in this case, the dress is perfect on Chloe. It falls over every curve of her body, and the smooth fabric feels electrifying. It’s the kind of soft white that pops against her skin and highlights her light hair. She decides to sweep up the blonde waves, partly because the humidity at the ocean is unbearable and partly because the back of this dress is too good not to show off.

It doesn’t matter what she looks like, these are her best friends, she lies to herself. But when she sees her reflection and likes what she finds, she’s relieved. Sloane must have known that Chloe needed to feel good the first time she saw Luke. It’s impossible to look bad in this dress.

Emerging from the bathroom, Chloe hears a repetitive whirring sound and finds Marianne holding a breast pump with one hand and unpacking her suitcase with the other. “You weren’t kidding. Even the machines are biting your nipples these days,” Chloe jokes.

“The most horrific part, I can barely feel them. And I used to be a big fan of nipple play.”

“Who doesn’t like nipple play,” Chloe says uncomfortably. It’s jarring to think about someone’s sex life while their boobs are attached to a baby-feeding torture device.

“Hopefully the sensation comes back,” Marianne says seriously.

“Keep me updated on those developments.” Chloe tries her best to be supportive. She doesn’t know anything about breastfeeding or pumping or postpartum nipple sensation, but if this is what is important to Marianne, then it’s going to start being important to Chloe.

“That dress is phenomenal,” Marianne says.

Chloe’s hand skims the silky edge that opens to the slit down her side. “Too much?” she asks.

“Of course it is. But I kind of think that was Sloane’s goal.”

“Do you have a sense of Sloane’s other goals for this week?” Chloe asks.

“You mean the typed itinerary she distributed to each of us detailing the ways in which we are supposed to force you and Luke together?” Marianne reaches into her bag and pulls out a paper with surprising dexterity given she is doing everything one-handed and topless.

“She didn’t,” Chloe sighs.

“Of course she did.”

Chloe points at the paper Marianne is now reading. “Are you going to share that with me?”

“Of course not.” Marianne’s eyes widen but never leave the page.

“Marianne.”

Marianne tucks the paper back into her suitcase. “I’m just as scared of Sloane as the rest of you. Plus, I have a feeling this is going to be entertaining to watch.”

Chloe looks away and fidgets with the strand of hair that’s already escaped her ponytail.

Marianne adjusts the breast pump and then seems to notice Chloe’s silence. “You okay?”

“It’s not entertaining,” Chloe says softly. “I know I messed up. I know I ruined the group. But none of this is entertaining for me.”

Marianne switches off the pump. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I don’t want to lose you guys,” Chloe says with a crack in her voice.

“I thought joking about it would ease the tension. Clearly, I made it worse.”

Chloe shakes her head. “You didn’t. It’s impossible for this situation to get worse.”

“I have to admit, you’re kind of jumping into the deep end. Everyone hasn’t been together for over a year. Since …” Marianne trails off. “A week in the same house was an intense choice.”

“It wasn’t exactly a choice. You said it. We’re all scared of Sloane. And she presented convincing reasons that made it hard to say no.”

“What did she say?”

“You should ask her,” Chloe answers.

“Okay. Secrets and threats on day one. Seems pretty Sloane-typical. How can I help you get through this week?”

“Never leave my side,” Chloe says intently.

Marianne restarts her breast pump. “I’m currently tethered to a wall outlet with plastic suction cups attached to my chest. We are going to be separated this week.”

“I can be your pump assistant.”

“I actually look forward to the alone time of pumping.”

“That’s depressing.”

“Yep. Motherhood decimates all of your standards.” Marianne seems to shake off whatever thought she was about to share. “How about this. Anytime you need a break, shout nipple . It will be our code word.”

“Could you come up with a less awkward code word?”

“My life is kind of single-tracked these days. It’s all nipples and butt stuff.”

Chloe is afraid to ask, but she does it anyway. “Butt stuff with Noah?”

“Negative,” Marianne frowns. “Butt stuff as in diaper cream and explosive diarrhea. Would you prefer blowout as the code word?”

“No, nipple is good,” Chloe replies.

Marianne finally turns off the pump and begins a complicated process of wiping and detaching all the various parts that were just attached to her body. “I’ll meet you downstairs. There’s no reason for us both to be late and double Sloane’s wrath.”

Chloe shifts. “I don’t mind waiting. I’m sure Sloane will understand.”

“Rip off the Band-Aid, Chloe. He’s been your friend for ten years too. It’s always worse in your mind.”

“Is it? Because I’m hyperventilating thinking that maybe I have underestimated Luke’s fury.”

Marianne puts down the bottles of milk and comes closer. “Do you remember that first trip we took? To Panama City?”

“Of course.” Chloe smiles.

“Do you remember what Luke did after the line dancing night?”

Chloe nods. Luke had gone back to the bar the next day, leaving an apology note for Clint, after the bartender confirmed that he was a regular and promised to pass along the message. All week, Luke worried that he should go back and apologize in person, but Wyatt kept reminding him that when he dropped off the note the bartender told him he wasn’t allowed to come back. It was one of the many times when Chloe realized she was falling for Luke. Everybody makes mistakes, but few people are capable of admitting and taking responsibility for their actions.

Marianne’s right, Chloe thinks. Luke hates conflict as much as Chloe. It’s possible that he will be trying just as hard to make this week work. And maybe if he’ll give her the chance, they can both admit the mistakes that got them to this place.

Chloe carefully closes the door to the bedroom and makes her way downstairs. She can hear her friends before she can see them.

When she rounds the corner, Alden adjusts his glasses and his voice slurs adorably as he screams “Chloe!” Clearly, beer has been consumed.

“Hey, Alden-O,” Chloe says as she walks toward him and is enveloped in a tight hug. “This place is amazing. Thanks for having us.”

“What’s the point of a big house like this if it’s just for Sloane and me, right?” Alden must want to make everyone feel welcome, but Chloe notices Sloane fumble her wineglass.

Before she can check in on her friend, Wyatt is at Chloe’s side whispering, “Nice dress. Very bridal-y.”

Chloe’s eyes narrow as she whispers back, “Sloane picked it out.”

“That tracks,” Wyatt says, chuckling at the floor.

Chloe scans the room, but there’s an empty space on the couch where Luke should be. Maybe he’s hiding in his room. Maybe he’s as nervous as Chloe.

But when a voice in the kitchen says, “Hey, Chloe,” her entire body clenches in response. She’d know the low rumble of Luke’s voice blindfolded in the dark. When she slowly turns around and sees him emerge from the kitchen, she struggles to find the ability to use her own voice.

“Hey, Luke,” she manages to reply.

“They spoke! They spoke!” Alden says and the room erupts in applause.

“What did I miss?” Marianne says, coming downstairs with a small cooler and going to the fridge to store her milk.

“Chloe and Luke just spoke to one another and now we’re all staring at them to see what happens next,” Wyatt says.

“We’re going to be fine, right, Chloe?” Luke says. He seems so relaxed and comfortable as he flops on the couch next to Alden. His light-blue button-down and khaki shorts blend perfectly with Sloane’s décor, almost as if she hired Luke to be the model in a photo shoot.

Chloe tries to look away, but she can’t, her eyes studying the tiny differences in his appearance after a year of separation. His hair is cut shorter on the sides, and the strands that fall over his forehead are lighter. Chloe wonders if he’s been outside more, which seems unlikely because Luke always spent long hours in his office. But maybe he has a new hobby. Maybe he has a whole new life that Chloe knows nothing about. Her heart pauses at the thought.

“Mm-hmm,” is the only response Chloe can manage.

She sits in a chair across from the couch. It’s too soft and she slumps backward, but then she’s worried her boob is going to slip out of the ridiculously skimpy dress Sloane bought. She wants to lean forward but knows the shifting will show Luke just how uncomfortable she is, which is accurate and yet not the impression she wants to make. So instead she slowly leans to the side, pretending she’s reaching for a coaster on the side table, but somehow manages to drop it. The crack of the gilded agate coaster and the sudden focus of every eye on Chloe immediately creates a pool of sweat in her armpits. Chloe looks at the broken coaster and then across the room at Marianne and mouths nipple .

Marianne shakes her head and mouths back too soon .

Sloane walks over and picks up the broken coaster. “I didn’t love these anyway.”

Chloe stares at Marianne, pleading, but Marianne keeps shaking her head.

Sloane looks back and forth between her friends. “What are you guys talking about?” Sloane asks.

“Nothing,” Marianne and Chloe say at the same time.

“Let’s go down to the beach, then,” Sloane says. She drops the broken coaster in the trash and walks outside. Everyone follows like schoolchildren lining up at the cafeteria.

Chloe can’t help looking over her shoulder at Luke. But he’s deep in conversation with Alden and Wyatt, something about a boat Alden is renting, or maybe looking to buy, and their plans to go deep-sea fishing later in the week.

Sloane is rambling about how many different catering teams she had to test before she found one that’s reliable, delicious, and aesthetically pleasing, a trifecta of standards Chloe doesn’t completely understand. Chloe’s only frame of reference is the difference between the burrito bowls at the two different Chipotles downtown. It’s worth the extra walk for the good salsa, but Chloe doesn’t think those are the standards Sloane applies to her catering services.

Marianne starts talking about how no one is reliable anymore. The substitute teacher who took over her math class while she’s on maternity leave keeps playing Good Will Hunting instead of actually teaching. “These teachers straight out of college have no work ethic,” Marianne complains.

“Marianne, you’re only twenty-nine. You’re acting like the sub is from a different generation,” Chloe says.

“She is! She sends me emails about the vibes of the classroom. I don’t care about vibes . I care about whether the students understand Euclidean vectors.”

“Really?” Sloane asks. “Because I have no idea what Euclidean vectors are, I have never once used them, but vibes can be critical to someone’s life.”

“Well, Euclidean vectors are critical to math teachers.”

“Maybe get some perspective about everyone else,” Sloane snaps.

Marianne rolls her eyes. “You are lecturing me about perspective? As you complain about the standards of your catering teams?”

“It’s important to me.” Sloane enunciates every word.

Marianne’s eyes narrow. “And what about what’s important to me?”

Chloe steps in between her two friends. It’s a position she’s familiar with. Sloane and Marianne are polar opposites, but most times their differences bring them closer. There’s no competition, the hindrance to many female friendships. But something about this exchange feels different. Fragile. Chloe looks back and forth between her friends and sees their growing divide. Marianne’s exhaustion and Sloane’s quest to create a perfect vacation has put them on edge. But Chloe knows there’s deeper pain bubbling beneath the surface.

“The vibes of this dinner look immaculate, Sloane,” Chloe says, hoping to defuse the tension.

“Totally,” Marianne says, not even trying to hide her sarcasm. She heads down the beach and pulls out her phone to call Noah. Sloane walks in the opposite direction toward the catering crew. Chloe stands alone, staring at the purple and coral streaks in the sky as the sun sets over the ocean.

Chloe’s toes burrow into the powdery white sand, and the Gulf breeze tingles her bare arms. She tries to make herself relax, but that seems like an impossible task when she’s navigating silly squabbles and an ex who may or may not want to fling his dinner in her direction this evening.

Luke and Alden walk past her toward the table set up by the caterers. Luke seems totally unaffected by her presence, which is more annoying than him being blatantly combative. Alden is discussing an IPO and shareholder dilution, and it’s the last conversation Chloe wants to join, but she wonders if she should try.

Thankfully, Wyatt stops at her side, and she’s relieved to see his friendly face. “Hanging in there?” he asks.

“Barely,” she answers honestly. “He seems fine,” she says, subtly gesturing toward Luke.

“That’s just because he’s a better liar than you.” Wyatt leans toward Chloe and whispers, the warmth of his breath tickling her ear. “Luke changed his shirt three times.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” Chloe sighs.

“Wanna play a game tonight?”

Chloe genuinely smiles for the first time since seeing Luke. “Absolutely,” she tells Wyatt.

“We drink every time we feel poor,” Wyatt says.

Chloe shakes her head, laughing. “I do not have a tolerance strong enough for that game. Look at this place.” Chloe uses one arm to motion at the beachside dinner arrangements and the other to point out Sloane and Alden’s house in the background.

There’s a rectangular table covered in a white tablecloth with a burlap runner down the center. Hurricane glasses with votive candles flicker down the middle next to silver mint julep cups filled with pale pink roses. As Chloe steps closer, she finds blue and white china, antique silverware, and seafoam-green napkins that match the water. In the center of each place setting is a printed menu for the evening.

In Chloe’s mind, dinner on the beach involves takeout containers and maybe a blanket. Not this. It’s a whole room that’s been created outside, and somehow Sloane ordered even the weather to behave appropriately. A little breeze, enough to cool your skin but not enough to disturb the candle-induced ambience.

Chloe picks up a menu and reads about the foods she will eat while trying to make small talk with the man whose heart she broke. Crostini with goat cheese and peach preserves followed by shrimp with stone-ground grits, and then bread pudding with whiskey cream sauce for dessert.

Her stomach grumbles because breakfast was airport yogurt, and lunch was a bad decision iced coffee that only made her more anxious. Chloe’s dinner is usually a couple of scrambled eggs and maybe some popcorn, both of which she eats in front of her laptop while she watches Netflix. The difference between her norm and Sloane’s makes Chloe feel like a toddler.

Next to the dinner table, there is a bonfire being lit, with teak lounge chairs arranged in a circle and tufted cushions on the side, providing too many seating options for a group this small. There’s also a basket with graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars. And long sticks. Sharp objects seem like the only planning mistake Sloane made.

It’s overwhelming, the amount of effort and extravagance Sloane has put into this dinner. Chloe would have been fine with sandwiches on the kitchen island, and she suspects the rest of their friends feel the same. But she’d never tell Sloane. Over the years, Chloe’s learned that it’s important to celebrate what matters to those you love. And it’s clear Sloane needs to be in control of hosting the perfect dinner. So Chloe is going to work hard to make sure that happens. Even though she feels like a child sneaking into her parents’ party.

“Is all of this for us?” Chloe asks Wyatt. “It seems like a lot.”

“And this is day one,” Wyatt comments.

“I would have been fine with Waffle House takeout,” Chloe replies. “Ever miss Waffle House days?”

“All the time,” Wyatt says, dragging out each word. “Especially those two weeks you got us banned.”

“Biggest mistake of my life,” Chloe quickly replies.

Wyatt turns, an amusing gleam in his eyes as he asks, “Really?”

“Well, next to …” Chloe stops herself. “Never mind. The last thing I want to do is dissect all of my mistakes tonight.”

“Good plan,” Wyatt smirks. “So about this drinking game. You up for it? Because Sloane’s temporary outdoor dining situation makes my apartment look like squalor. I figure we need to start chugging now.”

“Same,” Chloe sighs. “Apparently, over the last year Sloane and Alden turned into grown-ups. How did that happen?”

“Millions of dollars.”

Chloe sighs, “I’m going to be a child forever.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Wyatt comments. “Your thrift store couch is very comfortable, and your face doesn’t look like that when you’re about to eat dinner.”

Wyatt points across the beach to where Sloane’s face is pulled in a disgusted expression as she examines a plate of food the chef has prepared.

A waiter walks over with a tray of cocktails and offers Chloe a glass. She quickly accepts and takes a long sip.

“Game on,” Wyatt says, reaching for his own glass.

“How many of my poor choices are you going to encourage this week?” Chloe asks Wyatt.

“Hopefully? All of them.” Wyatt kisses Chloe on the cheek and walks away. And somehow, she feels better.

Chloe takes another sip of the cocktail and asks the waiter, “What is this?”

“It’s a Bushwacker,” the waiter answers.

Chloe holds up the frosty glass and eyes the milky coffee-colored drink inside. “What’s in this thing?” she asks, gulping down more.

“Rum, Kahlúa, coconut, and ice cream,” the waiter explains.

“Say less,” Chloe holds up her hand. “I will have a second.” She grabs another glass and makes her double-fisting way over to the table, sipping her adult milkshake.

She finds the place card with her name next to Marianne. As Chloe sits down, Marianne whispers, “I switched your seat. You are no longer next to Luke. You’re welcome.”

“Nipple, nipple, nipple,” Chloe murmurs. Everyone except Wyatt seems too focused on the flurry of waiters delivering food to hear her.

But Wyatt clearly does and puts an arm on the back of her chair as he asks, “Are you playing drinking games with someone else or do you have some new interests you’d like to share?”

“It’s my safe word. With Marianne.”

“That answer applies to both scenarios I described. I need more information,” Wyatt says.

“Marianne said she would help me escape if I was feeling overwhelmed. Nipple is the code word she suggested, and I’ve said it at least a dozen times and I’m still here. She’s an awful crisis buddy.”

Marianne leans over. “You are overusing our code word. It only works if it’s used in true crises. Not every single uncomfortable moment. And if you tell everyone about the code word, it kind of defeats the purpose.”

Sloane finally stops chatting with the caterer as they drop off plates and joins everyone at the table.

Chloe watches as Sloane’s eyes focus in her direction and immediately narrow.

“The Bushwackers are supposed to be served with dessert,” Sloane says. It looks like she’s about to make a waiter cry. Chloe’s mind reels on how to fix this situation because she doesn’t think she can handle any additional conflict.

“I couldn’t wait to try one,” Chloe says, trying to keep Sloane at the table. “This is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Wyatt starts to speak, but Chloe cuts him off. “Don’t make that joke.”

Marianne swallows down whatever resentment was bubbling earlier and helpfully adds, “Everything looks amazing, Sloane.”

“Well, the chef put cilantro on the appetizer, which is a disaster. And the Bushwackers were served too soon. It looks like I’m going to be looking for a new catering crew. But at least everyone is here. So let’s enjoy.” Sloane sits and raises a glass of champagne.

“I like cilantro,” Chloe says in between bites of the crostini.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It tastes like soap,” Sloane says as she picks off every green speck on her plate.

Maybe it’s the second Bushwacker Chloe dives into or the decade of friendship that gives the group the ability to pick up and talk about anything or nothing with equal comfort, but somehow Chloe starts enjoying herself. The food is delicious: tangy goat cheese with juicy peaches; creamy grits dotted with ham served alongside blackened Gulf shrimp. It feels like she’s playing pretend at a fancier life as they eat dinner by candlelight to the sound of soft waves in the background.

And between Sloane and Alden’s stories about living in Seaside juxtaposed with Marianne’s anecdotes about motherhood, there’s not a moment of silence, everyone talking over one another, hungry for more information about these new lives they’ve missed.

Everyone, that is, except Chloe and Luke. They’re careful to make sure that their voices never overlap. They don’t speak to each other, directly or by accident. They seem to navigate around questions about their lives and volley between discussions to make sure they aren’t ever involved in the same chat.

Chloe keeps looking over at Luke. Not once do their eyes meet. She keeps expecting him to say something—yell at her or cry or scream Why, Chloe? like some heartbroken movie hero, but he doesn’t do any of those overly dramatic things. He seems fine. Actually, he seems happy. He’s laughing with Alden about some golf story and he’s asking Marianne whether Teddy is eating solid foods and he’s telling Sloane that the shrimp are perfectly cooked.

The fact that he’s basically ignored Chloe since their initial exchange is even more devastating than any of the anger Chloe expected. Because maybe that means her absence isn’t as devastating as his.

When they’ve finished dinner, and Wyatt has made Chloe chug yet another cocktail when Sloane mentions that she and Alden took a quick trip to France to source the wooden table in the kitchen, and Chloe can feel the bread pudding sinking into her stomach but she still roasts two marshmallows because she feels obligated to utilize every aspect of this elaborate dinner, Alden suggests that they go back to the house and change into swimsuits. Apparently, there’s a hot tub on the roof deck.

The thought of putting on a bathing suit when she’s consumed three solid pounds of food this evening is the least desirable thing Chloe can imagine.

Until Luke shows up at her side.

“How about we go for a walk?” Luke asks.

Chloe chokes on her marshmallow. Wyatt slaps her on the back. Twice. By the time Chloe swallows and tries to tell Wyatt that a third slap is unnecessary, Marianne has joined the conversation.

“What’s happening? Do we need to talk about our nipples, Chloe?”

Luke looks horrified and Wyatt nods. “Yes, you two go talk about your nipples.”

“What’s wrong with your nipples?” Luke reluctantly asks.

“Nothing,” Chloe quickly says, staring daggers at both Wyatt and Marianne. “I’d love to go on a walk with you, Luke.”

“You would?” Wyatt and Marianne ask together.

“Yes.” Chloe reaches for Luke’s arm and pulls him away from the bonfire before Marianne can embarrass her more.

But as soon as her fingers touch his skin and feel the velvet warmth of his tense forearm, she pulls back. It’s hard to stop your body from doing the simple things it’s done without thinking for years.

Chloe and Luke are quiet for the first few minutes, but once they are far enough up the beach, out of listening distance of the crew of spies that they call their friends, Chloe turns to Luke and says, “Thank you for talking to me.” She takes a deep breath as she continues, “All I want is for us to be friends, Luke.”

Luke stops walking and bends down to pick up a shell. “I have no idea how to be your friend, Chloe.” Luke turns the shell back and forth between his hands, never looking into her eyes. “But I figured if we’re going to make it through this week, we need to talk.”

“I know,” she says. “And maybe we can figure out the friendship thing this week. At least, I hope so.” She knows she sounds stupidly optimistic.

“Dinner was painful,” Luke says.

“Really? I thought it was so great. Sloane’s gone to so much trouble and it was so much fun to be back together …”

“Cut the shit, Chlo.”

“You’re right. It was painful. I was worried all night about upsetting you.”

“You never seemed to care about that before,” Luke says to the sand.

“I’ve always cared.” Chloe says. Then she takes a deep breath and rips off the Band-Aid, trying, again, to have the conversation she wanted to have at the diner a year ago. “I know I hurt you.”

Luke clears his throat and loudly says, “I don’t want to talk about that. All I meant is that you’ve always said what’s on your mind. You’re acting weird. And it’s making me feel weird. And everyone else is already acting weird.”

“I don’t know what’s normal anymore. None of that,” Chloe says, pointing back at the dinner setup, “is normal in my life.”

“I know. We’re all getting used to having friends who are millionaires. Even Sloane and Alden are still getting used to it. He wants to buy a boat, and when I sent him his budget, he thought I’d made a mistake.”

“Why?”

“Because his boat budget is bigger than most people’s house budgets.”

“Why does anyone need a boat that costs as much as a house?”

“No one needs this much money. But once you have it, it’s a hard adjustment figuring out how to spend it.”

“And that’s what you’re doing now? Telling Alden how to spend his money. Isn’t that weird?”

“I think when your life changes this much this quickly, it’s helpful to have someone you trust. I didn’t ask to be his advisor. But he came to me after we handled the sale of his company. I’m just trying to help a friend.”

Chloe nods. “Of course. You’re right. He’s lucky to have you.”

“Thanks.” Luke keeps walking down the beach and Chloe follows.

“It’s not just the money that’s so different,” Chloe says as the waves cover her feet. “I don’t know how to act around everyone now that I’m not your girlfriend.”

“I don’t think any of us know how to navigate this situation,” Luke says.

“Do you think it’s possible?”

“What?”

“Still being in each other’s lives? Still sharing the same best friends?”

“Honestly? No. But Sloane and Alden seem to think so. I guess that’s what this week is about.”

“How did Sloane convince you to come?” Chloe asks tentatively.

“She didn’t.”

“Was it Alden?”

“Not exactly. Sloane called my secretary with flight details. I told my secretary to cancel. But my boss overheard. It’s complicated because the sale of Alden’s company was one of our firm’s biggest deals. I can’t turn down networking opportunities because I want to avoid run-ins with my ex.”

Chloe winces. She hates that a trip with friends is now a networking opportunity. She hates being called Luke’s ex. An accurate label, but it feels painful to reduce their past to such a tiny word.

Luke continues. “Basically, between my boss and Sloane, they’re equal on the scary to disappoint scale. So here I am.” Luke looks over his shoulder and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Why are you here? You’ve stayed away for a year, but then Wyatt calls me and says you’re coming. Why?”

Chloe stops walking. “Because Sloane needed me.” She doesn’t elaborate. Before he can ask more questions, Chloe continues, “And because being without your best friends for a year is a long time. I’ve missed my friends. All of my friends,” staring intently into Luke’s eyes.

“It’s harder to see you than I thought it would be.” Luke swallows, the lump in his throat distracting Chloe’s focus. “And I knew it was going to be hard. But I’m having to remind my hands that they don’t touch you anymore. And I’m having to remind my mouth not to laugh at your jokes.”

Chloe’s breath pauses, unprepared for the impact Luke’s words have on her body. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, my hand feels itchy not holding yours.” She steps forward, but Luke takes a step back.

“Stop. You ended it. And I can’t handle you saying things like that to me.”

“I didn’t end it, Luke. I said no. But you’re the one who refused to talk to me. Who packed up all my things. You’re the one who ended us.”

Luke stares at the sky as he shouts, “You wanted to get married. You’d been saying that for years. Was it a game?”

“Of course it wasn’t.” Chloe can’t hide the way her voice cracks.

“You crushed me, in front of an audience of our best friends. You wasted a decade of our lives. No warning. Not a single indication that you didn’t want to spend your life with me. I will never understand you, Chloe.”

“Luke, we have so much to talk about …”

“I don’t want to talk,” Luke shouts. “Not now and not then, because there’s nothing you could say that would fix what you did to us.”

Chloe feels disappointment wash over her. She hoped a year would dull his anger, but if anything he seems even more upset now. “What do you want, Luke?”

“We get through this week. Bare minimum of contact.”

“I think that’s going to be harder than you think. Sloane has some mastermind plan for forcing us together.”

“I know. Alden told me.” Luke turns around and starts walking back to the beach house. “I’m going to pretend that I can handle being in the same room as you. We’ll do our best to get through this week. But after that, I need to be completely done, Chloe.”

“No. We can’t do that to our friends. We have to find a way to work this out.”

“No. We don’t. I can’t be your friend.”

“Well, too bad,” she says. “We share best friends. We are going to see each other again. I’m sorry I hurt you. But you hurt me too.”

Luke whips around and Chloe is convinced that this is the moment he’s going to explode. This is the moment she’s been waiting for all night. Except he doesn’t. Instead, he closes his eyes, his jaw pulsing as his face tilts upward and then he walks away.

“Luke, where are you going?” Chloe shouts after him.

“Back to the house,” Luke says, seemingly unfazed.

Chloe runs after him. “We need a plan for this week and for everything. I don’t want to keep our friends in the middle of this.”

“You created this problem, you figure it out. I’m going to the hot tub.” All emotion in Luke’s voice has been erased.

Chloe stands still while Luke walks away, seemingly unbothered. That’s the problem. Chloe can feel every drop of tension, every twitch of discomfort among her friends. She wants to fix the situation. She wants things to go back to the way they were, but Luke seems perfectly content to stew in their silence. Which means nothing will ever change. Chloe will always be left out, partly because it’s easier for everyone else and partly because Chloe hates being the problem.

Maybe Sloane’s scheming is exactly what she needs, enough time alone with Luke so that he forgets his hurt and remembers that, at the end of the day, even if they aren’t married, they’re still best friends.

When Chloe finally makes it back to the house, she can hear the laughter coming from the roof deck. They are all together, lounging in the bubbly hot water, likely drinking something delicious prepared by the caterers Sloane will never hire again. And Chloe is alone. Again.

She hangs up Sloane’s dress in the closet. She washes her face and brushes her teeth. She slips into the crisp, cool sheets and pulls them over her head, turtling into the makeshift shelter of very expensive bedding. When Chloe closes her eyes, it’s the same image she sees every night. Luke and their friends, walking away, while she stands by herself.