Page 66 of Loving at 40

“May I say something?” Anna asks.

“I’m sorry,” I immediately offer, holding her eyes so she sees my apology while I warn against the possibility of a lecture. I’ve been nothing but reckless and a little thoughtless on this trip. I was supposed to be here for her, not shacking up with her brother, acting like a layover for him or whatever other bullshit we were pretending to be.

Anna shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. I saw how he looked at you, watched you.”

My brows pinch. “How did he look at me?” Like I was some joke? Some poor single mother, a desperate widow who was an easy target.

“Like you could be everything to him.”

I huff and gaze back at the setting sun. “That’s how Mason looks at you.”

Since we were in college, Mason Becker’s playboy ways were a coverup for his true feelings. He was in love with his best friend’s girl. But she only had eyes for Ben. However, the rest of us were not blind to Mason’s eyes on her.

I turn back to Anna, and she shifts, slumping back into her seat.

“He doesn’t.” She faces forward, squinting at the horizon. “He only feels responsible for us because of some secret directive from Ben. Mason is just . . . Mason. Like you just said, it’s hard to open up to someone new, and I don’t think I ever will.”

“I’ll never understand men,” I mutter, thinking back on all the men I’ve dated and slept with in my youth.

“I only understood Ben. But I’m angry. I’m so angry. I’m angry with all of them. Their friendship, their business, their secret pact of letters. Just damn him.”

There’s no comparison for a man like Ben. Even Ryan didn’t match Ben’s zeal for his family. Ryan was still a great man, a good father, and a decent husband, but he didn’t have the consuming passion Ben had for Anna.

Anna swipes under one eye, and I focus on her face. “I’m not really crying. It’s just a leak. It happens, and I ignore them.”

“You should talk to someone,” I tell her, concerned for her mental state.

“That’s what River says.” Anna pauses for a beat, swiping at her other cheek. Then she waves a hand, dismissing the thought. “So where’s Archer?”

“He left the restaurant with another woman.”

“He what?” Anna jolts forward, twisting to clutch the arm of the Adirondack. Her shriek echoes across the beach.

“Yep, some woman he called babe.” You love me. What was all that?

“He calls you babe,” Anna reminds me, and I close my eyes. I never want to hear the endearment again, and it’s another reminder of the pretending he’s done. The disconnect I felt when he used that word. Only when he said my name in that low, puzzled voice did he sound genuine. He was focused on me, saw me. Not her.

“Who was she?”

“I have no idea.” Her clothing screamed money, and her attitude said wealth. “Maybe she was his mafia princess.” There’s no humor in my voice at the joke.

“There’s someone who might know.” Anna stands with renewed energy, reaches for my hand, and tugs me upright. I don’t know if I want to know the truth. I’m too burned at the moment. My insides are incinerated, and my heart scorched. Still, I follow Anna, who leads me back up the steep staircase and directly into Zack’s backyard.

+ + +

“He what?” Autumn squawks after I retell my tale to the entire crowd. River and Zack. Logan and Autumn. Mason. Noah. We sit among a scattering of chairs, an oversized lounger, and a couple of blankets on the grass.

“We wondered if it might be the mafia princess you mentioned seeing him with on social media,” Anna asks her sister-in-law.

“You saw Archer with Viviana?” Noah questions, and all heads swivel in his direction.

“Who?” Mason asks.

“Viviana Quintero. And she isn’t a mafia princess. She’s more like a drug lord’s daughter,” Noah explains.

This can’t be real. This doesn’t happen here or in my life or in the world as I know it.

“And you know her, how?” Anna asks.