Page 17 of Best Man Speaking

Julian:I’m glad we could come to this painless agreement.

Even after all this time, my mind is consumed with the opposing desire to get my hands on Hallie again and the knowledge that she’s still better off taking her pretty ass back to Edinburgh. There’s no denying having her here sets me alight, and I’m happy to simply let myself burn while it lasts.

At least I have her number now, no begging required.

Chapter Five

Hallie

Any doubts I’d had about asking Erica for help in picking up my boxes from storage are completely quashed by the time I have the third trip’s worth loaded into my car. The first load had taken me longer than I’d thought to collect, the locker itself hardly having been opened to the light of day for years now.

I’d made the call to Erica topretty pleaseprovide me with both caffeine and an extra set of hands, and she’d delivered without once asking about the contents of each professionally taped brown box.

I was glad for it since the lack of markings on the cardboard and the perfection to which the boxes were taped and stacked reinforced my belief that my parents had nothing to do with packing up our family home.

I’d left for college, and they’d lefteverything. In no way had it been a shock, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Julian texting with an accommodation solution had been the silver lining of the day so far. After two hours at the café,searching for a suitable rental, he’d texted with directions to a friend’s pool house I could use, rent-free. One look at Erica told me she’d had a hand in it. She’d probably felt sorry for me, which I hated, but not enough to turn down the offer. Or maybe she was still trying to atone for the ambush at dinner last night. Either way, I was grateful to Jules’s friend and would figure out a way to thank them.

Back in the car, the suspension straining from the weight of more boxes, Erica fiddles with her phone, trying to hook it up to the Bluetooth.

“Should I tell Julian we’ll have you around for dinner tonight?” she asks without glancing at me. “You’re going to have a whole lot of stuff in this pool house, and none of it’s going to be edible.”

“I don’t know, there might be some edible underwear in there from when I turned sixteen,” I reply with a small shrug.

I wipe my hands down the front of my overalls before turning on the ignition. I can’t help but take some pleasure in the way Erica shudders in response.

“Inappropriate birthday gift?”

“Yep. It was all fun and games until I got too scared to put it in the trash when I got home. I’ve had to hide it ever since,” I explain as I move flyaway hairs off my face and behind my ears.

“Well, I’ll take that as a yes to dinner, then. A decade-old candy thong isn’t likely to be filling.”

I turn out of the driveway, and Erica hitsPlay.

There’s a short break in conversation as music pours from the speakers before Erica asks, “Hal, I know dinner last night caught you off guard, but it’s been a really long time since you moved away. We haven’t spoken about this for ages, but, well, isn’t it strange that I moved here and you’ve never even once asked me for gossip? It’s been four years.”

I maintain my silence, concentrating on the road ahead.

Gossip about Marcus, that’s what she means—about who he is, what his life’s like, and if he’s dating anyone. Part of me is dying to ask. The craving to know about him is a fire inside of me, one I can never seem to extinguish completely. The best I’ve ever been able to do is smother the flames down to glowing embers. The only thing I know is that he isn’t married; there’s no ring from what I’ve noticed. Not that a marriage requires a ring. My mouth dries at the thought.

“I guess all I’m saying is if there is anything you want to know, if there’s anything I can potentially tell you about who Marcus is now…I don’t know. I wouldn’t judge you for anything you wanted to ask, I just want you to be happy while you’re here.”

I let Erica’s words sink in.

Even though I’d been the one to draw the boundaries, asking her not to talk about Marcus, knowing I could ask now and not be judged is a generous gift.

I wouldn’t even know where to start.

Lies.

Erica might not judge me, but I would judge myself if I let the wordsDid he ever ask about me?slip from my lips.The fact that it’s still the number one question on my mind rips through my chest with a sharp pain.

I clench my jaw so my stupid mouth doesn’t open.

Iwantto know if he’d ever bothered to ask how I was, if I was okay, if I was happy, if I missed him.

If he’d missed me.

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