“I’m in love with him, Syl.” I flopped back onto my pillow. “And it’s hopeless. He doesn’t love me back.”

“He didn’t say that. I think he does love you, Meg. He just doesn’t want to lie to you or lead you on.”

“So then what good is love anyway?” Angry, I curled up on my side again, wishing I could shut myself away from the world. “My entire life, I’ve been waiting to fall in love like this, and now that I have, I’m even more alone than I was before.”

“But isn’t it better to know now?” she asked. “Before you turn your life upside down for him?”

I sniffed, unwilling to see it that way.

“Listen, you know how I told you that Brett is unfaithful?”

“Yeah. Bastard.”

“At this point, I wish more than anything he’d just admit it. I can’t stand all the lies.”

“Would you leave him?”

“I don’t know.” She wiped away her own tears. “All I’m saying is that even if it’s not what you want to hear, you have to be grateful that at least Noah is telling you the truth.”

I grabbed another tissue from the box and blew my nose again. Was she right? Should I take my lumps and go home thankful that Noah wasn’t telling me lies just to keep screwing me? After all, Noah had always been my protector. Maybe that’s what this was—he was trying to keep my heart safe. And maybe I was wrong about him wanting a family deep down . . .

But it hurt. It hurt worse than any breakup I’d ever had. I began to cry again.

“God, I’m sorry, Meg.” Sylvia lay down behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist. “I came in here to make sure you were okay and now I made things worse. Some big sister I am.”

“It’s okay,” I sobbed. “I’m sorry for you too. I’m sorry for both of us.”

She held me and let me cry it out for a little while and then gave me a squeeze. “Listen. I’m probably dateless this entire weekend too. There’s no way Brett is going to show. Want to hang out with me?”

“Sure.” I blew my nose into a soggy tissue.

“We’ll carry flasks in our purses and ditch our heels for flip flops and when all the romance is too much for us to bear, we’ll go up on the roof, smoke cigarettes, and curse.”

I had to laugh. “You don’t smoke cigarettes.”

“No,” she admitted, “but I feel like I should take up a bad habit or two. I’m tired of doing everything by the book.” She gave me another hug. “Plus I wanted to make you laugh.”

“Thanks, Syl. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

Much to Sylvia’s surprise, Brett did show up that night. He’d gotten on a plane without telling her and showed up at the rehearsal dinner at Abelard Vineyards wearing a wrinkled suit and a five o’clock shadow. He charmed everyone with sincere apologies and remorseful smiles, and took the empty seat next to Sylvia, giving her a kiss on the cheek before putting his arm around the back of her chair. I was directly across from him, and even from there I could tell he smelled like scotch and someone else’s perfume.

My sister remained stone-faced, and I suddenly understood her expression in all the family vacation photos.

Between cocktails and dinner, I stole a moment alone out on Abelard’s brick patio, which overlooked the neat rows of grapevines planted on the gently rolling hills. I breathed in that autumn smell I loved and vowed not to let the lump in my throat grow any bigger. After a minute, April came out and joined me.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Not really, but I’m trying.”

“Sylvia told me what happened.”

“That’s fine. Saves me from having to tell it again.” I wasn’t sure I could get through it anyway.

“I’m really sorry, Meg. And totally surprised. I thought for sure he’d—”

“You know, the more I think about it, the less surprised I am. No matter how good it was between us, he never once said anything about the rest of our lives. He never even said anything about next weekend, for that matter. It was always a temporary thing for him.”

“Still . . .” She reached over and took my hand. “It hurts. And I’m sorry.”

I tipped my head onto her shoulder and pressed my lips shut to keep the sob from escaping. This wasn’t my night, and the last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself.

When I was sure I could talk without breaking down, I let go of April’s hand and cleared my throat. “We better go back in. I think Mack is going to make a toast, and I don’t want to miss it.”

April rubbed my back as we walked in. “I’m right behind you.”

Twenty-Five

Noah

I barely slept on Friday night. My sheets still smelled like Meg, and even though I could have easily changed them, I refused. It was torture, but I deserved it.

Saturday morning, I woke up cranky and stiff. I thought maybe a run and some playtime in the park with Renzo would cheer me up and loosen my muscles, but it didn’t.

I ate lunch even though I wasn’t hungry, and was throwing some laundry in when I got a text from my mother.

Ma: Nina and the baby are home. Go see them.

Still mad at her for smacking me at the dinner table like I was eight years old, I didn’t text her back.

But I did shower up and head over to Nina and Chris’s. On the way I stopped at a drugstore and bought a card, some candy, a bunch of pink and red flowers, and a box of newborn diapers.

“They’re not for me,” I snapped at the checkout girl, who looked at me like I was nuts.

“Okay,” she said.

“I meant, I don’t have a baby. I don’t want one.”

“Okay.”

“Not everyone wants kids. Some people just don’t, and that doesn’t mean their lives aren’t complete. My life is plenty complete.”

“Right,” she said, glancing around.

I grabbed the bags and got out of there before the poor thing called security on me.

Once I was back in the car, I found a pen and signed the card. At Chris and Nina’s, I knocked gently on the door in case the baby or my sister was asleep. Violet opened it. “Hi Uncle Noah.” She gave me her toothless grin. “Did you come to see the baby?”

“I came to see you, but if the baby is here, I guess I could take a peek.”

“She’s here. They got home from the hospital this morning,” she lisped, eyeing the bags as Renzo and I entered the house. “Did you bring her a present?”

“I brought everybody a present.”

That earned me another grin. “Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Noah’s here!” she shouted, shutting the door behind me.

I followed her through the living room and kitchen to the big, open addition they’d put on the back of their house, where the family spent most of their time. My bleary-eyed sister was on the couch holding the baby, and she frowned at Violet. “Hey. Daddy is trying to get Ethan down for his nap. Can you keep it down please?”

Violet shrugged. “I can try.”