“Since university.”
“But you know Henry, who is Karen’s godfather—you said you went to stay with him. So you knew her before she was going out with Matt?”
“We’ve been best friends since the age of five,” she said as she tried to pull her hand from mine, but I tightened my grip.
“And now she’s marrying your ex-boyfriend. Is that weird?” It seemed weird to me but horses for courses.
We reached the top of the staircase and turned down the corridor toward our room in silence.
Eventually, Stella said, “It’s a little weird.”
I didn’t spend enough time talking to women about personal stuff to know much, but I knew from the silence, the way she’d gone stiff and looked at the ground when Karen came along, that a little weird was an understatement.
“How long after you and Matt splitting did he and Karen get together?”
She gave a half laugh, half sigh and then shook her head. “I have no idea. Matt and I broke up about three months ago. I didn’t know there was anything between him and Karen until I got the wedding invitation.”
“Jesus, Stella. I had no idea.” It made sense why it had taken so much to get her to come to this wedding. “Why the hell were you invited?”
She twisted her hand out of mine then dug about in her evening bag. “Oh, you know, I think they wanted to pretend it was all fine or something. Act as if it shouldn’t be a big deal because Matt and I had split. And they wouldn’t have expected me to come.” She held up the key card and I took it from her, unlocking the door and holding it open before she stepped inside.
“You must want to design the Mayfair building pretty badly.”
“More now than when you first asked me. It’s like I didn’t realize that’s what I needed—as if it’s given me a future, something to aim for,” she replied.
I stayed silent as the words stuck in my throat, weighed down by sorrow for her. If she hadn’t been able to see a future for herself, she’d clearly been devastated.
“I’m just going to go and get changed,” she said, scooping her nightclothes from the bed and heading for the bathroom before I thought of something to say.
I stripped down to my boxers, turned on the TV, and lay against the headboard as I scrolled through my phone as if that had the answers.
“Hey, where’s our pillow wall?” she asked as she emerged from the bathroom, her hair piled on top of her head and her pajamas on. She looked fantastic when she was dressed up, all magazine-glossy, but Stella was one of those women who looked even better without all that stuff.
“Housekeeping must have demolished it.”
“Well, I guess you’re safe tonight. I’m sober,” she said as she peeled back the covers on her side of the bed.
“I sort of like drunk you,” I replied, putting down my phone and sliding under the covers.
She laughed as she lay down on her side facing me. “It’s not a look I wear well.”
“From what I’ve seen, you wear most things well,” I replied. “Want to talk about Matt? Or Karen?”
She shook her head and placed her hands under her cheek. “There’s nothing to say. I thought he would be the man I’d spend the rest of my life with and later this week he’s going to marry the person I thought was my best friend. Safe to say my judgement’s a bit wonky. I’ve just got to get through this week, focus on my future and not my past.”
Silence stretched between us.
“That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway,” she added.
I curled her hair around her ear, not knowing how to make it better for her. I’d done nothing but make it worse. “I’m sorry I brought you here.” I’d made her come face-to-face with these people who’d hurt her. She’d said she didn’t know when Karen and Matt started seeing each other, but to be getting married only a few months after Matt and Stella split, there must have been something going on while they were still together.
I hated cheaters.
“Don’t be. You’re helping me with my future, remember?”
It didn’t seem enough. “Did you not want to marry him? Is that why you split up?”
She stared across me at the dresser under the window. “I’d have married him years ago and he knew that. I thought we were just waiting for the right time. Apparently, it wasn’t the time that was wrong, but the girlfriend.”