My Favorite Mistake (Walsh Family #7)

Epigraph

His gaze moved over my face. “I’m trying to remember the last time we actually met…”

My heart almost seized up in my chest. Were we really going there?

He glanced away, then refocused, all bright-eyed candor. “Was it my engagement party to Elisabeth?”

That was the last time we’d occupied the same room. But we hadn’t even spoken that night.

“So about eight years ago?” he said.

“About that.” (It was eight years and four months.)

He was trying to set the tone for the next two or three days. We could neither ignore nor acknowledge our long and complicated history. But by presenting a sanitized version of events, he was laying out a surface we could walk on. It was as fragile as thin ice over a deep, dark lake but if we stayed light and careful, we could probably do it.