Chapter 26

Evie

Iwake up on the sofa. Again. Blinking against the sun shining through the blinds, I decide the sofa is my new boyfriend. Warm and embracing, I love it. I stare blankly at the modern, curved light fixtures on the ceiling, wondering if Adam would consider parting with the buttery soft couch.

Clearly, I'm losing my mind. The last day and a half have been somewhat mind-altering. Not only the confusing emotions but keeping track of all the facts I will need to pass the smell test at Steph and Brad's wedding. Still, if this is Groundhog Day, where each day is a copy of the one before it, I'll be just fine. It's been a great time.

The weekend celebration is starting in three days, and other than a handful of memorized stats and the occasional background milestones, Adam remains a stranger. Of course, the reverse is true as well. I have seventy-two hours to catch up on thirty-seven years. Or in his case, fifty.

Fifty.

When on Earth did that happen? Just yesterday, I was picking up my toddlers from preschool, listening to their rapid-fire revelations—everything from time machines to Star Wars—from the backseat of our minivan, heading home to make supper for them and my husband.

Now, I'm a divorced empty nester.

If I dwell on it too long, it will take me down a melancholic road I have no intention of revisiting. After Marco left me—in the abominable way he did—I thought my life was over. But my pity party was short-lived. I had two exceptional sons in my care. Drowning myself in self-pity was a luxury I couldn't afford. Thankfully, it was my salary that had been supporting the family, not Marco's. With the help of friends and family, I landed on my feet. I'd be lying if I said there are no lingering scars. There are, for sure, but I take pride in how I came out the other side mostly intact.

I shake off the reverie and pick up my phone. 7:23. It's early. But not too early in New York. Rather than text, I dial Caroline's phone.

"Where the hell have you been?" Caroline shouts, omitting any form of greeting.

"Hello to you, too." I'm fully awake now. "Okay, sorry. My phone died, and then it was too late to call you."

Caroline sighs. "I tried reaching you like eighty-seven times. I thought maybe you fell off a cliff or something."

The irony in her words isn't lost on me. "Funny you should mention falling."

"Oh no! Are you hurt? I'll send Paul to get you. The medical care will be far better here in New York?—"

I cut her off. "Not me. Actually, not anyone. I'm fine. I'll explain in a second. First, tell me how you're feeling. When are you getting discharged?"

"Calvin says it will probably be Monday. Then I'll need physical therapy twice a week. He recommended his colleague on Park Avenue."

"Calvin? I'll take a stab in the dark here. He's your doctor."

"He's an outstanding physician. Very dedicated."

I hear the smile in Caroline's words. "Is he, now? What else is he?"

"Hold on. He's my doctor. That's all. And we're not talking about me. What's been happening there? You're all alone traipsing through the mountains. I don't know what I was thinking pushing you to go without me." Then, "How's the resort?"

"It was great."

"Was?"

"Um, I'm staying at a . . . friend's house."

"You don't have any friends near Yosemite."

I could argue, but Caroline knows everyone in my life. "Fine. I met someone."

I hear shuffling, as if Caroline is sitting up. "You're having a fling? I'm speechless."

"What? No! Adam is?—"

"Adam. Nice name. Wait, Adam and Eve. That's priceless! Okay, spill it and don't leave out even one single detail."

I lean back against the sofa cushion, wrapping the throw around my shoulders, and proceed to tell my best friend all that transpired. I lower my voice, hoping I didn't wake Adam.

"That's some insane story. I can't believe you're going to that wedding as his fake fiancée. This is so out of character for you."

I know it's not a judgmental comment. If anything, Caroline approves.

"It's crazy. But honestly, who's going to be hurt by this? It will help Adam, and I'll make up for almost killing him."

"I see what you mean, Evie, but how can I put this?" She pauses. "Lying is an art. And you are a novice. No offense."

"None taken."

"So, his sister . . ."

"Steph."

"Right. She works for the FBI." Caroline says it with a touch of disbelief.

I force my toes between the velvet cushions. "That's what I'm told."

"If you're caught, she probably won't take it too well."

Caroline has a point. "She won't find out."

"How exactly are you going to explain your quick departure from Adam's life the moment the wedding weekend is over?"

"Well . . . we haven't worked out that detail yet."

"Mhhm."

"What?"

"You're screwed."

I make a mental note to address the post-wedding explanation. Maybe Adam will say we realized we weren't meant for each other. Nah, too vague. Or we took things too fast. Or the age gap was too much to overcome? Hmm, maybe. We need to figure this one out.

I shove the throw aside and drag myself off the couch, walking barefoot to the back windows. The pool shimmers in the daylight, steam rising from its surface. I have a strong pull to jump in.

"Caroline?"

"Hmm?"

"It's not a big deal or anything, but Adam's younger than I am."

"That's okay. It's in vogue now."

"Thirteen years younger."

"Whoa." Caroline's voice drops an octave.

Over the phone, I hear noise in the background. "Someone there, Caroline?"

"The nurse. Please go on."

I open the back door and step out into the cool air. "I'll have to call you tomorrow."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yep. There's something I need to do."

I say goodbye to Caroline and strip down to my underwear. Bracing myself, I count to three and jump into the deep end of the pool.