Page 63 of The Fiancée Farce
Tansy nodded. “Okay.”
Gemma slumped back in the booth. She needed Tansy to be more thanokay. She needed her to understand.
“Lucy is my oldest friend, all right? We met at Rectory School. I was eleven, and we were both across the country from our families, all by ourselves, alone for the first time in our lives. We became friends.Bestfriends. But Rectory School tops out at grade nine.Victor sent me to Andover, but we stayed in touch with text messages and Skype and, later, email after I got shipped off to Zugerberg. We both ended up moving to the city after we graduated, and after I transferred to NYU, we moved in together and we just . . . happened. It was perfect, because I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and neither was Lucy.” Or so she’d said. “I don’t know when exactly it happened, but at some point, Lucy caught feelings, and I loved her but I . . . I wasn’tin lovewith her.” She couldn’t give Lucy what she wanted, couldn’t be who Lucy wanted her to be. “I thought it would be kinder to—to end things and go back to being just friends, but Lucy didn’t like that. She moved out. We didn’t speak for... I don’t know, two years. We crossed paths at a party one day and we started talking again and things between us were almost normal when my grandfather died and I suddenly found myself in need of a spouse.”
She dropped her eyes, staring steadfastly at her hands. She could feel Tansy’s gaze on her, as real as if she had used her fingertips to trace the contours of Gemma’s face.
“Lucy said we should get married. And it almost made sense. Marry my best friend, inherit the company. But I knew in my gut that if I married Lucy, she’d think there was a chance we might one day be more, and I couldn’t do that to her. I turned her down, as gently as I could.”
Which might’ve been too gently, given how Lucy had reacted after walking in on her and Tansy in the library.
“That’s the long and the short of it,” she said. “I’m not hung up on Lucy, okay? She’s my friend and I feel terrible and like the world’s worst asshole for hurting her, even though it was never my intention.” But she had faith she and Lucy would work things out. They always had, always would. With time, every fight betweenthem had blown over. Already Lucy was acting like nothing had happened at the party, and maybe that was for the best. Maybe Lucy had finally realized there was no hope for more than friendship between them. “But I’m not in love with her. And I don’t want to call this off. Not if you don’t.”
She held her breath as Tansy digested everything Gemma had told her, staring out the window, a slight frown on her face.
Tansy shook her head slowly. “I don’t. Want to call it off, I mean. Not if you don’t.”
Gemma’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Good. That’s—that’s great.”
Tansy cracked a smile, and Gemma’s heart beat double time.
“And you shouldn’t feel guilty,” Tansy said, tracing the mouth of her mug with a finger. “I think it would’ve been cruel if you’d led Lucy on. If you’d let her hope there was a chance you might one day change your mind. That you might feel the same. Being honest with her, that probably wasn’t easy, but I think you did the right thing. I think you did the kindest thing you could have.”
Kind.Gemma almost laughed. That was a first. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever called her that before.
“I don’t feel very kind right now,” she confessed, lifting her hand, dragging her fingertips under her eyes. Still blessedly dry, thank God. She wasn’t sure if this mascara was waterproof.
“That’s because you care. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t feel guilty, and... I think that’s a testament to the fact that itwaskind of you,” Tansy said, turning pink. “I don’t know if that made any sense.”
“It did.” She wasn’t entirely sure she believed Tansy, but the sentiment was nice anyway. She dragged in a ragged breath and said, “Tansy, I know that our relationship is... unorthodox—”
Tansy laughed, and the sound did the craziest thing to Gemma’s chest, somehow freeing some knots even as it tied her up in new ones. “That’s an understatement, don’t you think?”
Gemma turned her head, hiding her smile against her palm. “Ha ha,” she said, droll. “Regardless, I just want you to know that while we’re together, I don’t have any intention of seeing anyone else.” The leather booth squeaked when she shifted. “It might come as a shock, but marriage actually means something to me.”
She wasn’t sure what that something was, wouldn’t have been able to articulate it if pressed, but the idea of being married to Tansy and seeing someone else didn’t sit right with her.
Gemma wasn’t like her Uncle Sterling. She wasn’t like her father.
Marriage was a partnership. It was a commitment—one she intended to keep for however long she and Tansy were married.
“Gemma van Dalen? Tansy Adams?”
Gemma swiveled, booth squeaking. “Yes?”
“I’m Ronnie, with theSeattle Tribune.” The woman standing beside their table slipped into the booth across from them. Her dark hair was swept up in a messy bun atop her head, her blue feathered earrings skimming the sharp edge of her jaw. She shrugged out of her leather jacket and tossed it into the booth beside her. “Thanks for agreeing to this on such short notice.”
“Happy to,” Gemma said.
Ronnie reached inside her canvas messenger bag, pulling out her phone and a notebook. “You don’t mind if I record our conversation, do you?”
That was A-okay with her, but she turned to Tansy to check. “Tansy?”
“That’s fine,” Tansy said. “Whatever you need.”
Ronnie tapped the screen of her phone, then set it on the center of the table.
“Great. Again, thanks for making time in your inevitably busy schedules,” Ronnie recited, the words sounding rote. “So, how exactly did you two meet?”
