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The cringe. The cringe is so real. Charity balls and glamour are not my place anymore.

It takes me a moment to realize that Troy has adjusted his posture and now I’m almost leaning against him.

“Naw! You two look so frigging cute.” Hugo looks on like the proud owner of a cat who just had kittens.

“That’s on you, baby.” Troy’s retort is all grumbly and low as he presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m beat. How about you?”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Hit the road?”

I nod, grateful, then glance around. “It’s been so lovely meeting you all.”

“And you,” Hannah gets in first. “Better late than never.”

I don’t know what the question was, let alone the answer. Further pleasantries are made. Goodbyes and see-you-Mondays, then we leave.

“And remember, kids, don’t go to bed on an argument,” Hugo calls after us. “Do it the right British way—stay up and fight!”

“Would it be wrong to flip him off?” Troy murmurs.

“Probably here. Send him the emoji?”

His mouth curls, and I love that for me right now.

“First public outing done. How do you feel.”

Exhausted.

“Oh my God, Clara. Is that you?”

“Oh, hell,” I mutter under my breath as Troy’s attention flicks ahead.

“Who’s that?”

But it’s too late to answer as Hadley, my former friend, barrels down on us.

“It is you! Oh my God—I haven’t seen you in an age.”

Well, since I asked her to repay the money I’d loaned her months before. Her Casa Cipriani membership dues went unpaid thanks to a “banking error.” She said of course. No problem. That she’d forgotten about it. And that’s the last I heard from her.

“Hello, Hadley. It has been a while.” But not long enough to my mind.

“You look well. Your hair is so . . . modern.”

“Same. Love your dress. Red is such a brave choice with your complexion.”

“We were just talking about you at brunch recently. You know, me and the girls.”

“Nice to know I’m still entertaining you.” I can’t think of anything worse than brunch with those women. It feels so strange to me that this is how I used to live. Shopping. Parties. Dinners. Drinks. Brunch on Sunday, hangover notwithstanding.

“Wherever have you been all this time?”

“I took some time to find myself, but look who I found instead!”

“Is that . . .” Her eyes flick to the man by my side.

“Yes, it’s my Troy.”