“Except a real relationship.” Such a dismal thought required more sugar.
“We didn’t know what we were watching,” Hattie added. “But it was fascinating.”
“From anyone else, we would’ve challenged the quickie wedding.” Rosie propped her feet on the ottoman. “But you’ve never made a decision that wasn’t thoroughly analyzed to death, so we assumed you had your reasons.”
I clutched a blanket to my chin and eyed the box of baked goods. “I don’t analyze everything.”
“I’ve seen you make a spreadsheet before buying toilet paper,” Frannie said.
So maybe I was typically an over-thinker. “Lachlan and I were roofied in Vegas.” I let the ladies process that one, receiving all sorts of cries of dismay from my sisters and promises to mete out justice from Sylvie and Frannie.
“Oh, Olivia,” Hattie said. “I wish you would’ve confided in us. That’s terrible.”
“Lachlan hired a private detective,” I told them, “but it ended in a dead-end.” Kind of like my sham marriage. “The last few months have been head-spinning.”
“Are you saying you didn’t mean to fall in love with your husband?” Frannie asked. “This is just like inWrap Me in Your Fins, the Victorian merman romance we read last year. The couple wed for convenience and fell in love, despite their class differences—andhis inability to breathe more than ten minutes on land.”
“I’m not in love with Lachlan.” Nor was I in an amphibious relationship.
“Then why do you look dehydrated from crying?” Sylvie asked.
“Because I didn’t have anything better to do after I quit my job.”
“Whatdoyou feel for Lachlan?” There Hattie went with that therapist voice and hertell me everythingeyes.
Last night my heart asked me if I loved Lachlan, and I pleaded the fifth. No comments at this time. “I hate that I hurt him—or that he thinks I hurt him.” I could still see Lachlan’s face when he walked into the kitchen that morning he returned home. “He left believing I outed him to the press and regarded him as nothing more than a business arrangement.”
“Is he important to you, sugar?” Sylvie asked.
The answer was so simple…yet so complicated. “Yes.”
“I know a bigbutwhen I hear one,” Frannie said, “and I hear a big but.”
“But my goals don’t allow for a real relationship right now.”
“Because of the life plan,” Sylvie asked, “or because you have an ex-boyfriend who left so much scar tissue there isn’t space?”
“The plan works,” I said. “I need to remember that. Deviating from the timeline has never, ever served me well.”
Rosie stood and brushed crumbs from her dress. “I hate to break this up just when I’m about to argue with you, Olivia, but three of us have a shift at the bookshop that starts in thirty minutes.”
“We’re helping with an author event.” Hattie pulled me in for a hug. “But we’ll be back.”
“I know, I know,” I said into her flannel shirt. “Because this conversation isn’t over.”
“No.” She squeezed me extra hard. “Because we’re not letting you go through this alone. Pizza tonight at your place, so shower and run a brush through your hair before we return.”
“Fine.” I ignored her smack to my backside and walked with her to the foyer. “But I’m not putting on a bra.”
“Pretty much my life motto.” Frannie grabbed her purse and hoisted over her shoulder. “Bye, baby. And if you want, me and Sylvie can take care of that dragon ex-boss of yours.”
“No, leave Celeste alone.”
Frannie opened the front door and stepped outside into the gray day. “Maybe a teensy-weensy relocation to Bermuda? Oh! I bet she has a fancy car. What if it disappeared?”
“Not necessary,” I said, “but I appreciate the thought. I love you guys.”
“We love you too.” Rosie hugged me tightly then joined the others on the sidewalk. “See you later, sis.”
