“If he was a serial killer and I knew, do you really think I’d let you marry him?”
She put a hand on her hip, regarding me thoughtfully. “No, I guess not,” she decided. “But you still know something, and you are duty bound to tell me.”
Fuck.
Though it was my duty to share what I knew with my girlfriend, it only went so far.
“I just, um, he was deployed with Rowan. They went through some heavy stuff,” I said, not lying. “Has he shared that part of his life with you?”
“No,” she sighed. “But I watched The Hurt Locker.”
“Fiona,” I groaned. “That is not funny. He served this country.”
She rolled her eyes. “You Americans are so fucking fanatical about that shit.”
I kept my gaze stern. “If you’re going to be an American married to a veteran, you better know and respect what that means.”
“Yes, Mom.” She saluted me.
There was a knock at the door.
“Get the blushing bride out here,” Tina called. “We’ve got an antsy groom, and my own wife is now making noises about us redoing our vows.”
I smiled at the faux exasperation in her tone, knowing that if Tiffany wanted it, Tina would give her a hundred weddings.
“You ready?” I asked my best friend.
Fiona looked uncertain for a split second, like she might climb out the window. Which I would help her with. That’s what best friends were for.
“I can have the car out back in five,” I offered.
Fiona shook her head then drained the last of the champagne. “No, I’m ready.” She sounded like she was convincing herself rather than me.
But she didn’t give me a chance to ask any more questions. She straightened her shoulders and stomped out the door to get married.
You wouldn’t exactly call the wedding… romantic. Both Fiona and Kip seemed out of sorts. I could understand why he might be feeling conflicted about moving on, but not Fiona. She was not someone to do something she didn’t want to.
But she did.
They both said “I do.”
And then, when it was time for the groom to kiss the bride, there was a pause. A long and noticeable one. I swear, Fiona was about to hold out her hand for a handshake.
Kip’s jaw had been stiff the entire ceremony, his posture rigid. But then he grabbed Fiona by the back of the neck and locked lips with her.
At first, it seemed like she wasn’t into it. For about two seconds. Then I watched her body relax and she kissed him back. Enthusiastically.
Tina let out a whistle, which seemed to jerk them out of it.
Fiona scuttled back with a frown, her fingers going up to her lips. Kip snatched on to her hand and damn near dragged her down the makeshift aisle.
The reception didn’t last long on account of Fiona getting very drunk and having to be carried out by her new husband.
And I did not trust my stomach to keep down the dinner, so I asked Rowan to take us home.
Home.
He’d officially moved into my place. Which was our place now. We kept the beach house, which was all paid off. Lucky we did too since Calliope went through some kind of crisis and ended up moving to Jupiter and into the beach house. I had yet to find out what it was about, since she was pretty close-mouthed, but I was almost certain it was about a man. I loved having her around, though and she was often at our place for dinner or drinks.
Nathan had come home after Christmas. I’d seen him. Of course I didn’t tell Rowan that. We’d had enough alpha male anger to last a lifetime. Even though I knew Rowan well enough to know I was far from done with alpha male anger.
Nathan, to his credit, had looked sufficiently sheepish when we ran into each other at the store.
“I’m sorry,” he blurted as I was frozen in place, not quite sure whether I should run or give him a piece of my mind.
“For everything,” he continued as I was frozen in place.
He ran his hand through his hair looking uncomfortable.
Nathan was immaculately groomed, as usual. Designer pea coat, loafers, scarf, expensive haircut. But his eyes were bloodshot, with lines around them I hadn’t seen before. Same with the bags. There were strands of gray in his hair. He looked older. Much older.
New York, it seemed, was not agreeing with him.
I should’ve felt satisfied with that. He deserved some kind of punishment for being an asshole. But instead I just felt sad.
“I was an asshole.”
“You were,” I agreed, finally finding my voice.
Nathan’s eyes flared with surprise. I braced for that expression to change to anger. Instead, his mouth stretched into a smile.
You could’ve blown me down with a feather.
“You’re happy. With him,” he said.
I nodded.
“He takes care of you.”
I nodded again.
Nathan looked at me for a long time. “I’m happy for you, Nora,” he said softly. “You deserve this.”