Now they sat at a table near the window and watched the headlightszip by. Something hip and folksy was playing over the speakers, and the hum ofconversation was steady.
“You just blurted it out? Please don’t marry her? Just like that?”Zoe’s expression still registered disbelief; it hadn’t changed at all sinceRebecca had told her.
With a defeated sigh, Rebecca hung her head. “I did.”
Zoe seemed to get that Rebecca wasn’t happy about it either. Sheclosed a hand over Rebecca’s wrist. “What happened?” she asked softly.
Rebecca shook her head, tried to take herself back to theheadspace she’d ended up in when Spencer had given her the bracelet. She woreit now on her left wrist, fingered it with the other hand. “Ever since Nickgave me his ‘life is too fucking short’ speech, I can’t get it out of my head.It’s so weird.” She took a sip from her cup. Zoe was watching her carefully,intently. “It made me look at my own life. Am I happy? Am I doing what I wantto? If I get hit by a bus tomorrow, what regrets will I have?”
“I get that,” Zoe said, with a nod. She removed her hand, pickedup her espresso, and sipped. “I’ve seen people die on my watch. I’ve also seenthem come back from the brink, and that’s the overwhelming lesson those whoreturn have learned: life is too fucking short.” She paused. “So, where doesSpencer fit in?”
“That’s just it,” Rebecca said. “Everywhere. How is thatpossible?”
Zoe’s brow furrowed and she shook her head.
“When I asked myself those questions, my brain asked them aboutSpencer, too. Is she happy? Is she doing what she wants to? What regrets wouldshe have? I have no idea why. And then she showed up and gave me this bracelet,and all I could think was that she’s so incredibly kind and sweet, and I’mworried that she’s settling for less than she deserves.”
“You know she’s a big girl, right?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said, on a sigh.
“And you know it isn’t up to you to decide if she’s making theright decisions for her life, right?”
“Yes.” Grudging.
“Rebecca.” Zoe waited until Rebecca met her eyes. “You’ve gottalet this go.”
Rebecca’s voice was a whisper. “I know.”
“It’s driving you crazy, and ultimately, she is not yourresponsibility.” Zoe’s words were gentle—and true—but still hard to hear.
Rebecca swallowed hard, looked out the window.
“Want my advice?”
Forcing a small smile onto her face, Rebecca nodded. “Please.”
“I say focus on you. Get back on the dating site. Find things tokeep yourself occupied. The bride class is just about over, right? So you won’thave to see her as often, and she’ll gradually fade away. Just take care ofthis girl.” She tapped her forefinger on the back of Rebecca’s hand. “I happento like this girl. She’s going to make some woman ridiculously happy. Soon. Iknow it.”
It didn’t help a ton, but it did help a little. “Thanks, Zoe.”
“Absolutely.” Zoe sat back in her chair, sipped, then a big grinsplit her face. “Now, do you want to hear about my worst call so far today?”
“Yes, please.” The change of subject was good. Not 100 percenteffective, but it was good. Zoe was an animated storyteller, hands waving allover the place, her brown eyes widening, and Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh.Which was also good. It kept her mind off tomorrow. Because tomorrow was theday she needed to start really letting go of the woman she cared too muchabout…the woman she couldn’t have.
How the hell was she going to do that?
Chapter Twenty-One
February was easily Rebecca’s least favorite month of the year. Theholidays were long over, spring was still three months off, and she wasn’t askier or ice skater. In her opinion, there was nothing to look forward to thatmight ease the harsh cold of a northeast winter any time soon. Yeah, sheintensely disliked February.
This lunch had been nice, though. Not stellar. Not life-altering.But nice. Rebecca watched as Stacy, her latest internet date, headed for theladies’ room. She was thirty-six, a broker, and seemed like a normal,intelligent woman. She was attractive and amusing, and lunch with her had beenenjoyable.
The past couple of months had taught her not to expect anythingmore. If she had a nice time, some nice conversation with a woman who held herattention, she’d been given strict instructions from Zoe not to write that off.In fact, she was supposed to set up a second date, right then and there, ifpossible.
Rebecca had done that twice so far. This was her second date withStacy, and Rebecca thought it might be time to move from coffee and lunch datesto dinner, which was more intimate. She pulled her phone out to check hercalendar for the weekend and wished she was a bit more excited, instead offeeling like she was following a schedule of events somebody else set up forher.
“Rebecca?”
