Page 104 of I Saw Her First

“Weston, of course. Please, come in.”

I follow her across the entry hall and into the living room, where she finds me somewhere to deposit the heavy gift I’m carrying. Then she hands me a glass of champagne, and we head downstairs.

It’s fascinating to see the interior of Kyle’s house, completely different from mine. Where I’ve got gleaming chrome and modern fixtures, he’s got rustic wood and warm, historical elements. His kitchen is situated in the basement, unlike mine, and it opens out onto a beautiful yard, where they’ve set up a white wooden arch underneath a large, blooming magnolia tree. On the lawn sit a handful of folding chairs, and above, stringlights zig zag across the garden, which will no doubt glow golden over the yard later in the evening. It’s a beautiful setting for a wedding.

My eyes scour the yard for Daisy, but while I spot a few small groups of people I don’t recognize, there’s no sign of her. Violet isn’t here either, and as Sadie disappears, I realize they’re probably upstairs. Maybe Daisy is photographing Violet as she gets ready.

As I step out into the yard, I spy a familiar face among the crowd. Wyatt, our other neighbor, to the right of me. He’s a landscaper, responsible for my beautiful garden and, from what I can tell, Kyle and Violet’s, too.

He wanders across, taking my hand to shake. “Wes. It’s been a while.”

“Sure has.” I release his hand, motioning around the yard. “Is this your work?”

He nods, lifting his champagne glass to his mouth, tattoos snaking out from the cuff of his suit jacket, across his knuckles. The guy’s covered in them.

“Looks good,” I say. Even though we’ve lived beside each other for years, I haven’t spoken to Wyatt much recently as we’re usually both so busy. “Been out on the bike lately?” I ask, thinking of the motorcycle he keeps in front of his place under a cover. I’ve seen him work on it a few times, but never ride it. From what I can tell, it only seems to gather dust.

“Nah.” His eyes go distant as he scrubs a hand over his tidy salt-and-pepper beard. “Haven’t taken it out in a while.” He blinks, as if coming to, and looks back at me. “How’s the boy? Jesse, isn’t it?”

My grip tightens involuntarily on the champagne glass. “Ah, he’s…” Shit, I don’t know.He hates me. I’ve let him down. We’re not speaking.None of these seem like appropriate answers. “Busy,” I add at last, because it’s probably true. “How’s Bailey?”

Wyatt’s eyes light up. “Good. Graduating soon.” He’s a single father, and from what I understand, he was never actually together with Bailey’s mom. In fact, I don’t think his daughter was in his life until she was twelve. Despite everything, they’ve managed to build a solid relationship. I have to admire him for that.

“You must be proud,” I murmur.

He shrugs. “It’s all Bailey. I can’t take the credit.” His gaze snags on something across the garden and his face clouds. “Hey, watch out for the roses,” he calls. He shakes his head at a woman accidentally trampling a rosebush. “I’ll talk to you later,” he mutters, before going to check on the plant.

I stifle a laugh, turning to grin at Kyle as he approaches.

“Wes! Glad you could make it,” he says, looking sharp in a black suit. A sprig of pine and a single, purple violet sit in his buttonhole.

“Of course.” I take his hand and give it a hearty pump. “After all you did for me with the darkroom, I wouldn’t miss it.”

He scrubs a hand over his tidy beard. “How’s the darkroom working out?”

“It’s been great,” I say, leaving out the part about my son breaking into it to discover photos of me and Daisy.

“Good to hear. You know… Daisy is our photographer today. Violet suggested her, and she’s great. She gave us some stunning pictures of the neighborhood.” His eyes shimmer. “Have you seen her work?”

It occurs to me that Daisy has probably told Violet all about us, and there’s every chance she’s told Kyle. Why didn’t I think of that before? Either way, there’s no reason to hide anything anymore. Not now that Jess knows.

Still, with my future with Daisy feeling so uncertain right now, I’m not sure I want to get into all that. So I simply raise mychampagne glass to my lips and say “Mmm,” before taking a long sip.

Thankfully, Kyle doesn’t push it. He turns to a guy a few years older than us and smiles.

“Rich, this is our neighbor, Wes.” He glances back at me as I take Rich’s hand. “This is Violet’s father, and my best friend.”

I smile, processing this. I must look a little perplexed, because Kyle laughs, and Rich joins him with a hearty chuckle.

“It’s a long story,” Kyle says. “Vi and I fell in love while working on this house, and”—he elbows Rich with a sly grin—“Rich here didnotapprove. Especially since I’ve known him for years and Vi is a little younger than me.”

My eyebrows lift. I’d certainly noticed the age gap between those two. It must be similar to the gap between Daisy and me.

Rich snorts into his champagne glass. “Try eighteen years,” he says good-naturedly.

“Hey, you can’t help who you fall for, can you?” Kyle chuckles, and I give a grim laugh in response.

No, you can’t.

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