by Tif Marcelo
“You were crying,” Adelaide continued, her heart hammering in her chest. “It made me upset for you. To be honest, I hated Logan for all of us. He had a baby coming, and he was lying to everyone—you, Command, Sophie, even Rebecca Chandler. By the time I walked back into the apartment, I was so upset, shaking even, and I had to tell someone, else I was going to explode. So I told Matt.”
“Matt?” Regina asked.
Sophie laughed. “Matt told the commander.”
Adelaide nodded. “He had to, at that point. While Sophie’s impression was nothing concrete, it was enough to expedite Logan’s move. For the morale of the unit.”
“So the unit’s morale was improved by my husband leaving his postpartum wife and infant?” Regina said. “And you didn’t say a thing. You let me blame Sophie.”
“I’m sorry,” Adelaide said, voice croaking. “I’m so, so sorry. But I didn’t want to upset you more. You were alone. You needed someone.”
Regina was shaking her head. “All this time.” She fixed her eyes on Sophie. “I’m sorry, Soph. I’m sorry I let it all fall on your shoulders. I was a bitch. A bitch over a marriage that wasn’t going to last, not really.” She half laughed. “What’s funny about all this is that I was thankful for the transfer in the end. It really made me who I was meant to be. I left the Army when my obligation was finished. I realized, truly, that my marriage was over. I went back to school. I started my own business. And I raised Miko.”
Adelaide’s tears began to flow. Now that the truth was out, she realized that by admitting it, she could lose her best friends. “I… don’t have any excuses. It was a choice I made, which I regret.”
“And knowing that I took the blame? That she blamed me?” Sophie stood. “Adelaide. All these years, I beat myself up over this. Sometimes I doubted myself as to whether I did the right thing. When I’d see Regina post on your Facebook feed, I’d feel so sad and so left out. I often wondered what I could have done better. I… I can’t be here right now. We’ve got a houseful whether we like it or not. I’m going downstairs, where we’ve got a little girl to celebrate.”
Adelaide stood and reached out to Sophie, but her friend sidestepped her. “No, Adelaide.”
Regina followed. “I’m going downstairs, too. If anything, my goddaughter deserves a great day.”
Adelaide watched as both women went down the stairs. After several minutes, she did what she did best. She put a smile on her face and walked out the door.
Instead of a being full of a loud crowd, the foyer was silent. A dark-haired man stood at the open front door. He was dressed in jeans and a polo, with a duffel slung on his back. His head was partly shaved, skin sun-kissed, and he had a distinct dimple on his chin. The same Genevieve had on hers.
“Oh my God, Matt.” Adelaide held on to the banister, sheer determination keeping her upright.
Then she allowed herself to cry, in front of the entire crowd.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Sophie
The party went off without a hitch, in large part because of all the tiny details Regina planned, from the food to the outdoor games set up in the backyard. Not one bit of love was spared. But the party was also saved by their significant others.
Sophie had been in a daze when she’d descended the stairs, even when she’d witnessed Matt walk in the door. Her smile had been fake, her brain solidly still in Adelaide’s bedroom, processing what her friend had admitted. Luckily, Jasper stepped into conversations with his charm. Henry chased after used paper plates and napkins. And Matt headed up the games—he was a child whisperer. The three men filled the room with their booming laughter and nonstop chatter.
Sophie was cleaning up as the last of the guests trickled out, when she felt hands on her shoulders. They were solid and heavy and comforting, squeezing gently. Jasper stood flush against her side. She turned to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her forehead on his chest as she’d done more times than she could have counted. “You survived it,” he said.
“We survived the party. But the rest of it? It’s not over yet.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t have to do anything. In this case, it’s me who has the upper hand. I’m wildly hurt that the truth didn’t come out years ago. What do you think I should do?” She leaned back and looked up at him.
He rested a hand on the back of her neck. “I don’t know. But I understand the thin line we used to walk between professional and personal. We lived in the shades of gray.”
From her periphery, Sophie noted movement and turned. Regina, standing next to Henry, slung a scarf over her neck. At her feet was her green rolling suitcase.
“Hold on a sec, Jasper.” She let go of him. “Reggie.” When she approached, Henry stepped aside, into the living room. Regina continued knotting her scarf.
“Where are you going?” Sophie asked.
“I’m staying at a hotel.”
“I know that this is a hard ask, but please don’t go.”
Her gaze shot up. “That is a hard ask.”
“You said so yourself. Didn’t everything turn out the way it was supposed to?”
“She lied to me. I love that woman, and she… I hate when people lie.” There were tears in her eyes. “She also knew about the bad blood between you and me. Years of me stewing. I’m surprised you’re not packing up your things. She lied to you, too.”
“I know.” Sophie touched her forehead. “I can’t seem to wrap my mind around the whole thing. But what I know for sure is that I can’t leave. Because then I would lose her, and if you leave, you’ll lose each other, too. You and I have already lost years together, and that has been painful enough.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying don’t be rash about it. One bad thing shouldn’t negate all the good between us. What if you hadn’t come back a week ago? What if I had headed home mad? We wouldn’t be here today. We wouldn’t have tried to keep it together. And as much as we had our moments this week, we had some okay ones, too, didn’t we?” Sophie sighed. “I don’t know. But Jasper’s here, after months of me pulling away, and Henry’s here by your side, helping you as an equal. I have to think that means something.”
“I can’t even think.” Regina brushed past her.
“Where are you going to stay?”
“I don’t know, an Airbnb or a hotel somewhere? There’s surely something open.” She wheeled her suitcase out of the room and walked down the steps. “I need to figure out the rest of the logistics tomorrow. I’ll text to let you know where I am, and to let her know, too, because I know she’s going to worry.”
“Okay,” Sophie said, and with a nod to Henry, made way for him to catch up.
“I’m sorry for saddling you with the cleanup,” Regina said.
Sophie smiled at both the thoughtfulness and the silliness of it all. “You threw the best party, in the shortest amount of time, with the least amount of help. You made that little one’s year, and even if Adelaide didn’t say it, I know she’s grateful. So I think the least we can do is clean up.”
Regina nodded, took two steps, then looked back. “I’m sorry for everything, Soph.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Regina
Regina stuffed the suitcase into her trunk, and when she finally sank into Baby’s driver’s seat, the gravity of her conversation with Sophie caught up with her. She’d been so engrossed with the party and making sure people enjoyed themselves that she’d had very little time to think about what came next.
She leaned to the passenger-side door and opened it to Henry, who had been standing on the sidewalk, patiently.
He held up two hands. “I’m sorry to sneak up on you. I just wanted to make sure that—”
She gestured with her head. “C’mon in.”
The car rocked as Henry got into the passenger seat and closed the door. The car tipped like it was on water.
“I neg
lected to give introductions the first day I arrived, but Henry, meet Baby. Baby, meet Henry. Baby was my first car and still is my only car. I bought her with my own money. She was a scrap heap when I got her, and now… now she is magnificent, though slightly temperamental.”
“She’s pretty.”
“She is. But do you know why I love her so much and why she matters to me?” She turned her face to the right. “Because she’s mine alone. My name’s the only one on the registration. When I first took her home, my family thought she wouldn’t last. But all she needed was a little love and someone to trust.” She paused, feeling her heart crack open again, a decade later. “Isn’t that all anyone needs? People who love them? Who are willing to see them through the bad times?”
She rested her hands on the steering wheel, bent her head to lean her forehead against it. She shut her eyes. “Can you believe she said, ‘Don’t be rash’? What a total Sophie thing to say. But then I think: Am I rash? Did I not think in there? Was I part of the problem a decade ago, when I didn’t listen to Sophie? And what am I supposed to do with all of this information? Am I just supposed to forgive someone who’s lied to me for the last ten years?”
She turned her head to the side. Henry stared back at her intently.
“What are your thoughts?”
“I… I don’t know. But it’s obvious that those two care about you. A lot. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because you were together at an impressionable time in your lives, or at your most vulnerable maybe? But a deep undercurrent runs through the three of you. For the three of you to have been in the middle of a fight, and with no one else at the party noticing it—that says something. Anyway, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but I can’t let you stay at a hotel when I have a perfectly good place.” He held up his hands. “Not for anything but a place to sleep tonight, if you wish. I promise.”
“I know. I trust you.” The words came out of her mouth before she thought twice. And she realized she meant it. She’d trusted him all along. “Listen, I know that we need to have our own conversation, about us.”
He turned in his seat. “You and I have spoken or messaged almost every day the last eighteen months, Regina. You and I are good. Right now is not about us. This is about you and your friends.”
“How are you like this?”
An eyebrow rose. “Like what?”
“So good, and understanding. And nice.”
“Is that good? Should I be an asshole?”
She laughed. “No. But you make it so easy, which makes it all so hard, too.” Her mind was ping-ponging from Sophie and Adelaide to Henry, and to her business, and…
“Argh.” She laid her forehead on the steering wheel once more.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He placed a hand on her back.
“Is it?” She looked up ahead, to the bumper of the car in front of her, as if to find her answers there.
By the time she’d left Millersville, her friendship with Sophie had been in ashes. She’d remained friends with Adelaide, and to this day she swore it was Adelaide who’d helped her survive her first postpartum week, until her mother had been able to take over. In the years following, it was Adelaide she had turned to. “I don’t want to lose Adelaide. Sophie, too.”
He offered his hand; she set hers on top of his and held it firmly, as if it was a lifeline. “Deep friendships are complicated,” he said.
She looked up at him, at his beautiful face and sincere expression. “Do we have a deep friendship, too?”
“You’re changing the subject, Ms. Castro.”
“Is it working?”
“Yes.” He leaned toward her and kissed her sweetly on the lips. “Look, everything feels daunting, but you have choices. You have the choice to stay or go, to forgive or not. And no one says you need the make that decision right now, either. It’s like cooking: you measure as best you can, you time according to the recipe, but the rest is just your gut.”
He planted another soft kiss on her cheek. And as Regina felt the tingles travel through her body, she knew he was right. She just had to take a moment to actually hear what her gut had to say.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
Adelaide
“I can’t believe you’re home,” Adelaide said to her husband in a hushed tone. They were lying side by side, facing each other, under their covers. Their hands were intertwined in between them. Next to the bed, Genevieve snored in the Pack ’n Play.
He shook his head, face dimly lit by the moon through the window. “I was stupid to not ask for the time off. I don’t know what was going on in my head, except that I took you for granted. I just always assumed that you’d handle everything, as you have all this time. But that second surgery woke me up. My commander didn’t think twice about letting me go on leave.”
She nodded. “Can I be honest?”
“Yes.”
“I was really mad at you. And I was starting to resent you, and your work. I am done being second.”
“You’re not second.”
“I’m not?” She laughed softly, though she tried to ease the sting with a smile. “I am, and why this has worked for so long is because I accepted it. And now, I’m at a point… I want there to be more than this. I need more.” Adelaide swallowed her nerves. “I don’t know what that means yet, totally. But I’ve been offered a job. Something that I could be damn good at, Matt. I want to see where it goes.”
He took a breath. “Okay. Of course I support that, but… I still have the rest of my career. My pension. We need it.”
“Oh God. I’m not asking you to quit the Army, babe. I know you love the Army. I love it, too. But I’m asking you to make this work. To be my partner as I have been yours, through everything. That means accommodating my plans in the process, even if we don’t know how it’ll work out.”
She could see that he was biting his cheek. He did that when he was in deep thought. That and the furrow on his forehead. She spied the little gray hairs that had popped out since he left for Germany, evidence of their time apart. “I think I can swing some jobs in the area, maybe even until retirement. And with the daily stuff—to be here more often.”
“You don’t mind trying to stay here? At least for just a little while?”
“No… God, no. Adelaide, you are my life. And you are first. I don’t want to you feel second ever again.”
“Are you upset? About not trying for another baby?”
He shut his eyes and shook his head. “No, I’m not upset.”
“Are you sure? You can tell me.”
“Adelaide, children have never been a given for us. You and I have been trained to know this, for lack of a better word. I’m thankful for a healthy you, for Genevieve here with us. I want to be the best person for the both of you. Even if you still wanted kids, it’s more important for the two of us to get it right, first.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Adelaide kissed her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck. She relished the comfort his lips brought, how he cradled her face with his strong hands, and the sweet familiar smell of his aftershave. A need grew within her, and their kissing intensified, but she pushed him away gently. “We have to be good, for now. I’m still in a little bit of pain.”
“When you’re ready, I’ll be ready.” He pecked her on the nose. “Though I may need a cold shower or a run around the block.”
She laughed. “I didn’t say we couldn’t be creative. Just careful.” At his big grin, she playfully slapped him on the arm. “You’re so easy.”
Adelaide’s phone buzzed on her nightstand.
“I wonder who could that be?” He said mischievously.
“Why do you look like you know something?”
“Let’s just say that Jasper has always been like a brother to me, and Henry and I bonded today over how to properly hang a piñata.”
She patted her nightstand for her phone and brought it close to her face.
It wa
s a text, from Regina:
Book club, now. Kitchen. SOS.
Seconds later, Sophie:
I’ll be there.
Coming.
Adelaide sat up at a speed she hadn’t accomplished since before surgery.
“Whoa. Don’t hurt yourself, babe.”
“It’s an SOS. Book club.”
He propped up on his elbows. “I haven’t heard you say that in a long time.”
“What?” She threw on a sweatshirt, slipped her feet into her slippers, and padded toward the stairs.
“Book club.”
The point made it home quickly, and Adelaide paused. She perched on the bed. Matt wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his hand on her thigh. “I really messed up,” she said.
“Adelaide. You did what you thought was right at the time. You can only be better. That’s it. Go down there, and whatever they have to give, just take it, and learn from it.”
She ran her fingers through his short hair. “Thank you.” Leaning down, she planted a kiss on his forehead.
Adelaide left the dark room and descended the stairs. Voices sounded from the kitchen. The kitchen exhaust whirred. Her nose wiggled at the smell of something savory. Oh my God. Bacon. Butter. Which only meant…
“Breakfast?” Adelaide said, walking into the kitchen, squinting. Every single light was on. A pan filled with bacon cooked while the waffle maker dripped batter. On the table was an amber bottle of maple syrup and a powdered sugar shaker.
“I got hungry,” Regina said. “And Henry had nothing in his kitchen, typical bachelor. You’d think he’d have a fridge full since he’s a baker. But anyway, I still had your house key.”
Adelaide sat at the table, where a pajama-clad Sophie already waited, eyebrows raised, which meant that she, too, didn’t know what this was about, but was going with it.
“Here we go.” Regina flipped a waffle onto a plate and set it in front of Sophie. “So, now that we’re all together, I thought that maybe we should talk about the book, since you insisted we read it, Adelaide.” She laughed. “Okay, okay, so I didn’t really read all of the book, but I watched the movie the last couple of hours. And I get why you picked it. The story wasn’t only about their relationships with men. It was also about their relationships with themselves and the friends that supported them.”
