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“Oh!” She made a wrinkled face. “These are awful.”
He laughed. He couldn’t help it. And after a moment, she began laughing too.
It was nice, laughing with his mom.
* * *
After everything that had gone down, Noah had been keeping his distance at the office. It wasn’t awkward or anything like that—surprisingly—he just seemed to sense that Vicky needed space. She was grateful.
Still, later that week, he appeared at her office door. She couldn’t blame him. Prince Charming types have trouble not looking in on potential damsels in distress.
“So,” he said. “How are you really?”
She smiled. “I’m really fine.”
He narrowed his gaze playfully. “You realize I’ve known you since we were twelve, right?”
She relented. “I’m okay.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’m really happy for you, Noah. You know that, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah!” he said. “I could tell by the way you backed out of being a bridesmaid and then refused to even attend the wedding.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I think it’s for the best. And . . . we’re okay, right? You and me.”
He nodded. “We are, yeah.”
“Good.”
They stayed silent for a long moment. His eyes began to bore into hers. After years of friendship and then more and then friendship again, she knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“I just wish you could be happy too.”
“I’m not unhappy.”
“You know what I mean.”
She sighed. She did know. “I will be, I think. Just probably not today.”
“I worry about you.”
“Please don’t. Worry about your wedding. Worry about how you’ll no longer qualify for the top eligible billionaires list after you get married.”
He laughed. “Oh God, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“See? You have much more important things on your mind than little ol’ me.”
“I know I wasn’t exactly supportive, but . . .” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You actually seemed really happy with him.”
“It was fake, Noah.”
“Does that make a difference?”
She looked down at her desk, fiddling with a stack of papers there. Maybe she had been happy. Maybe a fake relationship could turn real. But Ryder had had more than enough opportunity to tell her if he wanted more. And he hadn’t. He’d gone along with their deal until it didn’t make sense anymore, and then he had left. He’d done more than she could have reasonably expected him to, frankly.
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. He clearly wasn’t happy with me.”
