CHAPTER ELEVEN
By the time we reached the edge of town, the clouds had begun to cluster, sunlight dripping through the gaps like honey.
Serena had the radio on—something upbeat and offensively cheerful—and sang along in between talking about floral arrangements and champagne tastings.
Teddy drove, one arm hooked out the window, his hair ruffling in the wind like nothing about this was remotely weird.
Meanwhile, I sat in the back seat, trying not to think about how my childhood friend was engaged to a jerk and how my first love was three feet away, looking more like a model than the eighteen-year-old who broke my heart.
“So,” Serena said, twisting in her seat to face me, “You think the country club is too stuffy, right?”
“I think it’s very… country club,” I muttered diplomatically.
Teddy snorted. “That’s Margot-speak for full of old people.”
Serena swatted his arm. “It’s elegant! And it has a view of the water. Plus, Jesse loves it.”
Jesse. I tried not to grimace. I’d spent so long attempting to scrub that night from my memory, and now every time she said his name, another unpleasant puzzle piece rose to the surface.
The latest one being how he insisted on selecting the most expensive wine on the menu, then waited for Serena to leave for the restroom before demanding I pay half the bill.
Still, she looked… happy. And that counted for something, right?
“I just don’t know,” Serena sighed. “It’s beautiful, but I always pictured getting married at the beach. Something simple—barefoot, string lights on Main Street, a small reception.”
“Then do the beach,” Teddy said easily.
“It’s not that simple,” she replied. “Jesse’s parents are paying, and they already booked the rehearsal dinner here.”
“What about you?” I quipped, frowning at her. “You know, most people think the wedding should be for the bride, not the groom.” Teddy met my eyes in the rear view mirror. I shrugged.
She cleared her throat. “Well, I think it’s nice his parents are willing to pay.”
I pressed my lips together, refusing to push further.
Serena’s parents died when we were thirteen.
They were quiet, and always seemed strangely distant with her at soccer games and school drop-off.
Those years were shaded with so many streaks of charcoal, sometimes my friends’ tragedies blurred with my own.
Serena carried on effortlessly after the fact, even under the thumb of her older-brother-turned-guardian.
Perhaps I could add it as another feather in my cap of friendship failures.
Teddy glanced at her after an extended stretch of silence. “You sure this isn’t about you being scared to tell him what you actually want?”
Serena threw him a look. “I’m not scared.”
“You’re a little scared,” he teased.
“I’m not!”
“Serena,” I cut in lightly, “you literally broke out in hives when you told your brother you wanted a dog.”
She groaned, whipping a pair of sunglasses from her purse. “You two are the worst.”
“Correct,” I replied, lips twitching into a smile.
Truthfully, watching them together again—bickering and teasing and poking each other’s buttons—made something twist painfully beneath my ribs. We hadn’t been like this in years. It felt easy and impossible all at once.
The country club lay just beyond the farms and the pumpkin patch, on the outskirts of the Cove but before the highway to Port Camden.
It looked exactly as I remembered it: sprawling white columns, manicured hedges, a long gravel drive lined with Japanese maple trees brimming with dark burgundy leaves.
The Cove’s richest visitors came to stay there, some for months at a time.
My heels clicked against the shining marble floors as we followed a wedding planner through the building. Everything, from the crystal chandeliers to the mahogany dining tables, gleamed with a too-perfect sheen.
“This is the main ballroom,” the planner said. “It seats up to two hundred guests comfortably.”
Serena’s polite smile already began to fade. “Uh-huh.”
“And out this way—” The planner gestured to a terrace. “—You’ll see the ocean view. Ceremonies here are very highly sought after.”
We stepped outside. It was crisper here, with a strange lack of brine in the air, but the horizon washed in pale gold and the manicured, absurdly green grass had a certain allure. I could admit—for a wedding venue, it was stunning. But it didn’t look like what Serena wanted.
Teddy must’ve thought the same, because he leaned toward me and murmured, “No way she picks this.”
“I know,” I whispered, but not before flushing at the sudden proximity.
I really needed to stop acting like a lovestruck teenager around him. It was getting out of hand.
Serena turned, catching our expressions. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” I retorted. “If your dream wedding involves the smell of starch, hair gel, and money.”
“Margot,” she warned.
“I’m just saying, this doesn’t look like your vision.”
Her mouth opened, then closed again.
The planner sent me a disapproving glare and led us through more rooms—the cocktail lounge, the bridal suite, and the terrace bar. Serena nodded and smiled in all the right places, but her eyes were elsewhere.
When the tour ended, she thanked the planner and promised to “think about it,” which was Serena-code for, “No, but I’m too polite to say it out loud.”
As we walked back to the car, she sighed. “It’s too...”
“Then tell Jesse that,” Teddy encouraged.
“It’s not that easy,” she breathed. “He has a certain vision too, and I don’t think it’s right for me to ignore it.”
When we piled back into the car, I palmed the flyaways on my scalp and clicked my seatbelt in place. “Have you ever heard of compromising?”
No one said a word as Teddy turned the ignition and the engine roared to life.
“I don’t really care, honestly,” Serena whispered, peering outside at the maple trees as we pulled back down the drive. “As long as I get to marry Jesse.”
Teddy met my eyes in the rear view again, and he shook his head. He was right—it wasn’t the right time. Confrontation, to Serena, might as well have been the same as chugging a bottle of poison.
Afterward, none of us wanted to go home yet, so Teddy suggested grabbing lunch at the marina.
The Catch was small and casual—flowers climbing the shiplap walls out front, the faint clatter of fishing boats rocking against the docks.
Compared to the touristy heart of Bluebell Cove, it offered an off-the-beaten-path alternative when the locals needed a breather.
For the most part, it was frequented by whatever fishermen wandered down to the Cove from Port Camden.
We sat at a table overlooking the water, separated by a thin sheet of vinyl that blocked the frigid ocean gusts.
Serena scrolled through her phone, half-listening while Teddy told a story about almost falling into a tide pool of sea urchins on a shoot a couple months ago.
I watched him absently as he talked—hands animated, eyes bright, entirely oblivious to the elephant-sized butterflies stomping through my stomach.
The years had filled in the sharpness of his features, given him a quiet confidence he didn’t have at eighteen, or even twenty-two.
He still laughed the same, though, head tilted back, eyes crinkling at the corners.
And I resented the fact that I couldn’t look away.
“So,” he said suddenly, turning to me. “I still have your coat at the house. Would you like it back?”
I wanted to say that it was less of a house than it was a palace, but I bit my tongue.
“Are you holding it hostage?” I quipped.
“Maybe I am.”
I arched my brow. “What are the terms of its release?”
“I’m still working out the details.” He grinned. “But I’m considering something along the lines of forced quality time.”
Serena strained for a subtle glance at me, still glued to her phone.
“That’s all?” I said evenly. “Maybe I’ll hire a Margot lookalike to get the job done.”
He leaned back, still smiling, and replied, “I’ll only take the real thing.”
Before either of us could say more, Serena announced she had to call Jesse about the venue and wandered off toward the docks, phone in hand.
And suddenly it was just us and my thundering pulse.
The silence fell across the table in surprisingly heavy swathes. Not awkward, exactly—just… too dense. Full of a thousand unspoken truths that I had no desire to confront.
“So,” he drawled, “How long are you planning on staying?”
“I don’t know.”
The response tasted foul on my tongue, but pretending about it had no use anymore. Teddy would inevitably see right through me, anyway.
He smiled faintly. “You still writing?”
“Old habits die hard.”
Teddy nodded, tapping his thumb against his water glass. “I had no idea you’d be here when I came back.”
“Neither did I,” I muttered flatly.
That earned a soft chuckle. “Bluebell Cove has that effect, huh?”
“Like the tractor beam of a UFO,” I said.
He looked out at the water. “You ever think about what it’d be like if we hadn’t left?”
I hesitated. “All the time.”
Teddy turned toward me, and for a second, the years between us dissolved. We were seventeen again, standing on the beach watching each other through the flames of a bonfire while my heart tried to climb out of my chest.
Then Serena reappeared, grinning. “Okay, crisis averted. Jesse’s fine with the beach after all!”
I blinked, clearing my throat. “That’s… great.”
Was it too late for a groom change as well?
“Right?” she said, sliding back into her chair. “He actually said, and I quote, ‘Whatever makes you happy.’”
“So, the bare minimum,” I wanted to say.
“Progress,” Teddy replied.
“Exactly.” Serena beamed. “So, maybe you two were right.”
Teddy raised his glass. “To difficult conversations.”
My chest tightened as he met my eyes, the trademark easy smile slipping from his mouth.
She clinked his. “And to old friends.”
We lingered after lunch, watching the boats drift by until the sky was streaked by shades of watercolor. Serena had to meet Jesse’s parents for dinner in Port Camden, so Teddy insisted on sharing a taxi with me.
The car ride was quiet. Not the comfortable kind.
When we pulled up in front of the diner, we both hopped out of the car and thanked the driver. I turned as he drove away. “Thanks for coming with me.”
“Margot,” he said.
I froze.
He hesitated, pulling a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to make things weird.”
“Good, because you didn’t.”
The lie threatened to rip my chest open. Teddy teetered back on his heels, glancing up at the darkening sky as if fighting with his next words.
“I did,” he said softly. “Back then—with us.”
My pulse stuttered. “Teddy, it was a long time ago,” I lied again, because to me, it still felt like yesterday. The memories had been playing in my mind on repeat since he flew back into my life, all sunshine and warm smiles and smelling more like home than anything else did.
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t screw it up.”
I exhaled slowly, knees weak. “You didn’t, we were kids. We didn’t know any better.”
It was the weakest thing I could’ve said. Back then, and whenever I closed my eyes, the truth was undeniable. I had been sure—with my whole heart, and every ounce of my soul—that Teddy and I were forever.
But dusting it under the rug and downplaying the pain was the best I could do.
He turned to look at me then, eyes shadowed and searching. “You sure?”
I forced a smile. “Positive.”
Teddy nodded, though he didn’t look convinced.
“See you tomorrow?” he asked finally.
“Yeah,” I said. “Tomorrow.”
I pushed through the door to Captain’s before he could say anything else, the autumn air rushing in behind me.
When I reached the door to the stairs, I glanced back through the windows. He lingered just outside. For a split second, I harbored a stupid, insane, naive hope that he’d rush inside and declare his undying love for me. Then, he disappeared around the corner.
I leaned against the railing inside the stairwell, heart still racing, and thought of the way he’d looked at me—like maybe, for a second, he’d been wondering the same thing I did.
What if we hadn’t let it fall apart?