4. Sabrina
— ? —
Sabrina
The Kerrington dining room had seen better conversations.
Tessa caught my arm in the hallway before we went in, her grip gentle but insistent. She pulled me toward the powder room and closed the door behind us.
“Did you tell him?”
I checked my reflection in the mirror. The circles under my eyes were getting harder to hide. “Tell him what?”
“Sabrina. The baby.”
“No.”
“It’s been almost a week since you found out.”
“I’m aware of the timeline, Tessa.”
She leaned against the sink and crossed her arms. Her dark hair was swept up in one of those effortless twists that I could never manage, and she was wearing a green dress that probably cost more than my car. Meanwhile, I’d put on the first clean thing I could find and called it a victory.
“You have to tell him eventually,” she said. “He’s going to notice when you start showing.”
“Maybe I’ll just wear progressively baggier clothes and see how long it takes him to look up from his phone.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
Tessa’s expression softened. “I’m worried about you. You look exhausted, and the doctor said you need to rest, and instead you’re dealing with all of this alone.”
“I’m not alone. I have you. I have your parents. I have Ivy.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did know what she meant. I just didn’t want to talk about it.
“I’ll tell him,” I said. “Soon. Just not tonight.”
“Why not tonight?”
“Because tonight I want to eat your mother’s pot roast and drink sparkling water and pretend everything is fine. I want one evening where I don’t have to think about the fact that my marriage is falling apart. Can you give me that?”
Tessa was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded and pulled me into a hug.
“One evening,” she said. “But tomorrow we’re talking about this for real.”
“Deal.”
We walked into the dining room together, and I felt the shift in atmosphere immediately.
The Kerringtons were loud. They were always loud, in the best possible way.
Bridget was telling some story about a neighbor’s dog that had gotten loose and ended up in the yacht club, gesturing wildly with her wine glass while Alistair watched her with the quiet adoration he’d been practicing their whole marriage.
Sully was laughing, his head thrown back, looking so much like his brother that it made my chest hurt.
Josie was there too, perched on the edge of her chair with her usual sunny expression, nodding along to everything with the personal investment of a woman who considered the dog saga her own.
And Killian was looking at his phone.
He glanced up when Tessa and I entered, and his eyes flickered with guilt, maybe, or hope. I couldn’t tell anymore.
“There you are.” Bridget stood and kissed my cheek. “Sit down, sit down. The roast is almost ready. Killian, put that thing away.”
“I’m just checking one thing.”
“You’ve been checking one thing all evening. Your wife is here. Your daughter is asleep upstairs. The phone can wait.”
Killian put the phone face-down on the table, but I could see the tension in his jaw. He was waiting for it to buzz. He had been waiting for it to buzz for two years.
I sat down across from him and accepted the glass of sparkling water that Tessa handed me. Josie immediately leaned over and squeezed my hand.
“Sabrina, you look gorgeous. Is that a new dress? It’s such a pretty color on you.”
“Thanks, Josie. It’s actually pretty old.”
“Well, it’s timeless. Classic. You could wear it to anything.
” She lowered her voice, though not nearly enough for the comment to be private.
“But you look tired, honey. Are you sleeping okay? I have these amazing essential oils that my cousin sells, and they’re supposed to help with stress and insomnia. I’ll bring you some tomorrow.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
“Is everything okay? You seem a little off.”
“I’m fine. Just adjusting to island time.”
Josie nodded, but her eyes lingered on my face with more perception than I usually gave her credit for. She was oblivious about many things, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d known me long enough to recognize when I was lying.
Bridget emerged from the kitchen carrying a platter that could have fed an army, and the conversation shifted to food and logistics and who wanted which cut.
I let the noise wash over me, grateful for the distraction.
Across the table, Killian was cutting his meat with mechanical precision, his eyes flicking to his phone again and again even though the screen was dark.
“So,” Sully said, pointing his fork at his brother, “when are you actually taking time off? You’ve been saying one more week for a month now.”
“The Seoul project is at a critical phase. Once we hit the next milestone, I’ll have more flexibility.”
“You said that about the last milestone.”
“This one’s different.”
“That’s what you always say.”
Killian’s phone buzzed against the table. He reached for it automatically, and I felt my jaw tighten.
“For God’s sake.” Bridget set down her wine glass with a pointed clink. “Killian, if you look at that phone one more time, I’m going to throw it in the harbor.”
“It might be important.”
“It’s always important. Your family is also important. Your wife is sitting right there looking like she hasn’t slept in a week, and you’re worried about Seoul.”
Killian’s eyes met mine, and for a moment his face was open and real. Frustration, maybe, or helplessness. He knew he was failing and couldn’t figure out how to stop, and for once it was all right there on his face.
His phone buzzed again.
“I’ll just check real quick.”
He reached for it, and Josie’s hand shot out. Her wine glass tipped, and a cascade of red splashed across the phone screen and pooled on the tablecloth beneath it.
“Oh my God!” Josie jumped up, her face a picture of horror. “I’m so sorry! I’m so clumsy, I can’t believe I did that. Is it ruined? I’ll pay for a new one, I feel terrible.”
Killian grabbed the phone and tried to shake the wine off, but it was too late. The screen flickered twice and went dark.
“It’s fine,” he said, though his voice was tight. “It’s fine, Josie. Accidents happen.”
Josie was dabbing at the tablecloth with her napkin, apologizing profusely, but when she turned to hand me a fresh napkin, I caught the quick wink she sent my way. The corner of her mouth twitched.
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.
“Are you sure it’s ruined?” Tessa asked, not even trying to hide her smile. “Maybe if you put it in rice?”
“That’s a myth,” Sully said. “The rice thing doesn’t actually work.”
“It worked for my cousin’s phone when she dropped it in the toilet,” Josie offered.
“Different situation,” Alistair said mildly. “Wine has sugar.”
Killian set the dead phone aside and picked up his fork again. He looked lost without it, his hands moving with nothing to do between bites.
“This is nice,” Bridget said pointedly. “A family dinner without screens. We should do this more often.”
“You could start a support group,” Sully suggested. “Wives of men who love their phones too much.”
“I’d join,” Tessa said. “My last three dates all spent half the evening texting.”
“This is why you’re still single.”
“This is why I’m happily single.”
The conversation flowed on, and I felt myself relaxing into it.
This was what I’d missed during those long months in New York, when it was just me and Ivy and the silence of an empty apartment.
The Kerringtons were chaos, but they were warm chaos.
They’d drop everything to help you move, drive you to the airport at dawn, sit with you in a hospital waiting room.
They’d folded me into their ranks without hesitation when I’d married Killian, and even now, with everything falling apart, they were still home to me.
Josie touched my arm again.
“You really do look tired,” she said, quieter this time. “I hate seeing you like this. Is there anything I can do?”
“You already drowned my husband’s phone in wine. That’s enough.”
She giggled. “That was an accident.”
“It was a beautiful accident.”
“I just wanted him to pay attention to you. You deserve to be paid attention to.”
My throat tightened unexpectedly. “Thanks, Josie.”
“Oh, I almost forgot!” She sat up straighter, her face brightening. “I saw Cordelia Hayes in town yesterday. At the coffee shop, of all places. I thought she was living in Paris now, but apparently she’s back for the summer.” She turned to Killian. “You didn’t tell me she was here.”
The table went quiet.
I looked at Killian. He’d gone very still, his fork suspended halfway to his mouth.
“Why would he know?” I asked.
Josie blinked at me, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Because they were together. Before you, I mean. Didn’t he tell you?
They dated for almost two years. Everyone thought they’d get engaged.
She used to talk about it like a merger.
Cordelia’s always been like that. Ambitious.
She had the whole future mapped out, his company and her connections, the power-couple thing.
And then he met you and blew up the spreadsheet. ”
The words hung in the air between us. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, could feel the temperature in the room drop.
Killian set his fork down carefully. “Sabrina-”
“He didn’t tell me,” I said. The words came out flat and controlled, from somewhere outside my own body. “He never mentioned Cordelia at all.”
Josie’s face crumpled with sudden realization. “Oh God. Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought you knew. Everyone knows, it was such a big deal when they broke up, his mother threw a party. I just assumed-”
“It’s fine, Josie.” I pushed my chair back from the table. “Excuse me.”
I didn’t run. I walked. I walked out of the dining room with my spine straight and my hands steady and my heart shattering into pieces I’d have to pick up later, when no one was watching.
Behind me, I heard Bridget say, “Killian, what the hell is wrong with you?”
I didn’t stay to hear his answer.