My heart lodges in my throat, but before I can reply, a blur of movement catches my eye, and a woman stops at our table.
“Oh my gosh, Penny Hanson? I thought that was you!” She smiles, shopping bags slung over her arm.
Iblink at her, dazed, before standing abruptly as recognition sets in. “Holy shit, Krista? Wow, how long has it been?” I grip her arms, doing my best to summon a smile that feels real.
I feel Jesse’s eyes on me, two feet away.
I gesture between them. “This is Krista. We lived together junior year when we studied abroad in Paris.”
Krista unabashedly rakes her eyes over his body, and Jesse smiles, dimples and all, standing to shake her hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jesse,” he says, enveloping her hand in his large one. We exchange a glance that I can’t decode fast enough. “Family friend,” he adds.
He sits back down, and my stomach twists. Family friend is technically accurate. So why does it sting?
Krista, oblivious, launches into flirt mode. “I love all your ink!” she gushes. “You know, the only reason I have this”—she moves her ponytail to reveal the tiniest Eiffel Tower tattoo behind her ear—“is because of this girl.”
I barely remember being involved in that decision, but it sounds like something twenty-one-year-old me might’ve hyped up after one too many cheap glasses of wine.
“Penny was a wild time in college. I don’t know how we even survived.” She laughs, loud and unbothered, placing a hand on my shoulder. “This girlknowshow to live.”
The last thing I want to do right now is discuss the years I was partying it up while Jesse was in prison.
“By the way, I’ve been following you on socials. Girl, you are literally everywhere. I mean, do you ever rest? And your photos were featured in that huge magazine. Can we trade lives?” Krista says with another shrill laugh.
The café air thickens around me. The hiss of the milk steamer, the scrape of forks against plates, the clink of ceramic—it all blurs together. My cheeks flush, and my cashmere sweater suddenly feels like it’s clinging too tightly around my neck.
“It’s a busy life!” is all I manage to come up with in reply.
“And how’s your little sister doing? She must be so old now!” she asks. I can’t believe she remembers meeting her at siblings' week all those years ago.
“Oh—she’s great!” I smile tightly, feeling Jesse’s eyes on me.
Fia’s great, and my brother who you don’t know exists is still in prison, but I’m going behind my sister’s back to see him and sell our family home in a few days! It’s all grand, babe!
“I’ll be in Raleigh in a few weeks, let’s grab drinks!” she offers way too enthusiastically.
“Of course,” I reply quickly.
We hug goodbye, and I sit back down the moment she’s gone, feeling like every pair of eyes in the room is on me.
Of course, only Jesse’s are.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask, scooting my chair in.
He scrubs his jaw. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I smile tightly.
“I have to say, you’re pretty humble for being such abig deal,” he says, but it’s not sarcastic. It’s genuine, but either way, I’m done talking about me.
“Because none of it is a big deal. It’s just my work.” I take another bite of my sandwich, eyes down.
He doesn’t argue, just studies me quietly. “You made it to Paris, though…and it looks like you got to work around the world. That was your dream.”
Heat blooms at the back of my neck. Jesse was the only person who truly ever understood how badly I wanted that—wanted everything I have now. He believed in me more than anyone back when it was just ideas on a pinboard in my bedroom.
“I did,” I say softly, eyes dropping to my plate again. I study the pattern of seeds on the bread crust, like it might open a door to another topic. One that doesn’t leave me feeling exposed.
