Libby groaned and looked at her feet. I put my hands on my hips. “Why, Libby? Why the hell are you speaking to Justin when you’re about to marry Bobby?”

My sister and Justin Byford had dated on and off for three years after meeting at Yale. More off than on. He’d always been a pretentious poser, as far as I was concerned. He clearly fancied himself as a smart, witty guy with his forensic accounting job and bimonthly gig doing standup at some comedy club downtown, but in reality, he was about as intelligent and funny as unseasoned chicken. He was a total asshole to boot. In the years they dated, Libby cried over him more times than I could count.

“Just let me explain before you judge,” Libby said, sitting up straight. Her eyes were wide.

“I’m listening.”

She sighed. “He started texting me last week. I think he heard from a mutual friend of ours that I was getting married soon.”

“So he was offering his congratulations?” I said sarcastically. I knew Justin would never do such a thing.

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s actually kind of… sad. He said he was happy for me at first, but then he started going on about how bad his life is now. His last girlfriend dumped him over a year ago, and he lost his job at that accounting firm as well.”

“How is that your problem?”

She shrugged. “It’s not, but I feel really bad for the guy. My life is going so well, and it seems like everything totally fell apart for him. I guess I feel a bit responsible.”

“Why? Because you’re happy and he’s not?” I said, crinkling my forehead.

“Sort of, yeah.” She pressed her lips into a thin line.

I rolled my eyes. “Let me remind you, the last time you spoke to him, he called you a loser and dumped you because he didn’t think you would ever be successful as a writer, and he wanted a woman who was more equal to him.” I put the word ‘equal’ in air quotes. “In other words, he wanted some sort of pretentious trust fund baby girlfriend with an old family name, so he could have someone to introduce to all those people he was always trying to impress.”

“Yeah, I know. And look how well that turned out for him.” She raised a brow. “He lost that cushy job of his, so who’s the loser now?”

I scoffed. “Exactly. So why do you feel so bad for him?”

“It’s like you said. I’m so happy now. I have everything I ever wanted and needed, and he’s just miserable and alone. So desperate he’s hitting up ex-girlfriends for conversation. I feel kinda guilty for being so happy while he’s basically in a pit of despair.”

“So you’ve been texting him back to try and make him feel better?”

“Yes. And before you say anything else, I already know it’s stupid.” She held her hands up. “I’ve only been saying super-vague stuff because I didn’t really want to let him back in, for obvious reasons. I figured the conversation would eventually die out, but he just messaged me again, asking if Bobby knows I’ve been talking to him.”

“Oh. So that’s what the message I just saw was about.”

Libby nodded, and her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “Yes.”

I cocked my head to the side. “So why doesn’t Bobby know? Wouldn’t you be mad if he was texting an ex behind your back?”

“Yes. I’d be furious! I know I should’ve told him that Justin contacted me.” She sighed and looked out over the sparkling azure ocean as a gentle breeze blew up a strand of her strawberry blonde hair. “I just worried he wouldn’t get it, and he’d think there was something going on, even though I’d never cheat.”

“But hiding it makes it look like there is something going on,” I said gently, sitting down again. “You see that, right?”

She nodded glumly. “Yes. I know. But how would I explain it to him?”

“The same way you just explained it to me. Justin’s a loser, and he tried hitting you up because his life is in shambles and he heard you were finally happy. You felt guilty because you’re in a way better place, so you were just being friendly.”

She bit her lower lip. “It’s so much easier to say than actually do it.”

“Libby….”

She held up a hand. “Fine, you’re right. I’ll tell Bobby.” A defeated sigh escaped her lips. “Why do I feel so responsible for Justin? I should’ve just told him to buzz off. Or never responded at all.”

I grinned. “It’s because you’re too smart for your own good. It makes you obsessed with fixing things.”

“You think?”

I nodded. “Even when you were a kid you were like that. You used to fix my computer all the time, remember? And that purple bike I had.”

She laughed. “Yes. The front wheel always fell off it.”

“You also want to fix this thing between Bobby and Nate, but let’s face it—it probably won’t happen. That ship sailed a long time ago.” I sighed. “Now Justin is trying to guilt-trip you, and you feel like you have to fix all his problems too.’” I raised an eyebrow. “Sound about right?”

Libby nodded sheepishly. “I guess.”

I patted her arm again. “Fix the things you can. Be a good partner to Bobby. Forget about the past and how Justin’s life turned out. It’s not your business to worry about. He made his own bed. He can damn well lie in it.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “Okay, I get it. You’re right, as usual.”

I laughed. “I’m not usually right, believe me.” Otherwise I might’ve actually been nicer to Nate in recent weeks…

Libby hesitated and looked back out at the sea, then glanced at me with a side-eyed gaze. “Can I ask you something super personal? There’s a long story attached.”

I patted her hand. “Sure. As long as you start putting this on while you tell me.” I held up the sunscreen bottle.

Libby smiled and started lathering the cool white cream over her arms, face and neck. “It’s about Bobby,” she began. Then she twisted her lips. “Well, no, it’s more about me. But it involves him.”

“Go on.”

“Do you remember when I was about sixteen or seventeen, and I was obsessed with following in Mom’s footsteps and becoming a programmer like she was back in the day? But then I hit eighteen, and bam, I wanted to be a writer instead. Actual words, not code.”

I furrowed my brows. I remembered it well, but I wasn’t sure what it had to do with her relationship. “Uh… yeah.”

She trained her gaze directly on me, blue eyes wide. “I love Bobby more than anything. I adore him. But what if that same thing happens? What if I wake up one day and suddenly feel different?”

“You’re asking this one week before your wedding?” I said. She sighed and nodded dejectedly. I squeezed her arm. “Lib, come on! It’s perfectly normal for people to change career paths and hobbies, especially when they’re young. I mean, I used to want to be a gymnast when I was a kid. Remember that?”

“Yes.”

“Marriage is different. It’s work sometimes, but it’s not a job. You’re not going to wake up one day and feel nothing for Bobby, right out of the blue.”

She nodded slowly. “See, deep down, I already know that. Like, duh! I wouldn’t be ready to get married if I didn’t know that. But then I still worry anyway. God, I’m being so stupid.” She puffed out a breath of air. “This is what they call pre-wedding jitters, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

She looked down at her lap, then back up at me. “I thought so. So this was my question for you. Did you feel this way?” Her voice was low and tentative. “I’m sorry to bring it up,” she added hurriedly. “I just don’t know anyone else who’s been engaged or married before. Apart from Mom, but we all know how easily she waltzes down the aisle. No jitters there, clearly.”

I sighed and thought back to the days before my engagement broke off. “It’s fine. And honestly? No. I didn’t get all that many jitters. But maybe that should’ve been a sign that I wasn’t thinking about our relationship enough. If I did, maybe I would’ve picked up on what he was secretly thinking. Maybe I would’ve realized he was banging my best friend.”

“That wasn’t your fault. Matt is a piece of shit. So is Elena.”

Elena was my ex-best friend—the one my ex-fiancé slept with. I still clearly remembered walking in on them on the morning of the wedding. They’d tried to claim it meant nothing, and that the ceremony could still go ahead. It was simple tension relief, Matthew told me, and I was the one he truly wanted.

Yeah, right.

“I know,” I said bitterly. “It was their fault. They’re shitty people.”

“Right. And now you have Nate, who isn’t shitty.”

“Yes,” I said softly. “I have Nate…”

Oh, how I wished that were entirely true. I wished it with every fiber of my being. But it wasn’t going to happen.

Nate and I were just pretend.

Libby drummed her fingers on the edge of her sun lounge. “Speaking of Nate, I’ve decided I have a resolution about him and Bobby,” she declared. “I think it’ll help both of us.”

“What is it?”

“Even if it kills me, I’ll make them sort out their issues. Nate needs to get over it and realize that someone else took all that money. Some random computer hacker or something; I don’t know. But it wasn’t Bobby!” she said.

I smiled at her earnestness. “Good luck with that,” I said. I sat up straighter. “Speaking of exorbitant amounts of money, I can’t believe Bobby bought those earrings for Mom. They’re gorgeous, but they must’ve cost a bucket-load.”

Libby scratched her cheek. “What earrings?”

“The chunky teardrop diamond ones.”

She frowned and tilted her head slightly to one side. “When I asked her about them, she told me you bought them for her.”

My mouth dropped open. “Um… well, I didn’t. She told me Bobby got them for her as a gift. Those Rockstuds, too.”

Libby’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god! She told me you got her the shoes as well. And also that Chanel bag she’s been carrying everywhere. She said you got some sort of bonus at work and decided to give her some early birthday presents.”

“I didn’t buy her anything,” I insisted.

“Well, neither did Bobby,” Libby said.

We stared at each other for a moment, confusion mirrored in each other’s expressions. If I didn’t buy Mom’s expensive new toys, and Bobby didn’t either… who the hell did?

“Do you think she’s seeing a new guy?” Libby asked, seemingly reading my thoughts.

I shrugged. “Maybe. Where else would she get the cash to afford those things? I know she’s not broke, but she’s not really in a position to spend that much.”

“I know.” Libby blew air through her lips as she slowly shook her head. “You know, I did think it was a bit weird when she told me you bought all that stuff for her. Like that Chanel bag. With the way she’s been speaking to you these last few months, I figured she’d be lucky if you bought her a straw tote bag.”

I snorted. “Oh, so you’ve picked up on that as well, have you?”

She threw her hands up. “Of course! All she’s done this year is harp on about you being single. Thank god you found Nate, huh? But don’t worry, you aren’t the only one who gets it from her.”

“Oh?”

“She gets on my back all the time, too. Only in my case it’s about the wedding. Half the reason Bobby and I wanted a destination wedding was so she couldn’t take over and control every aspect. Did you know she once made me discuss napkin colors with her for like, fifteen straight minutes? Eggshell or ecru—who gives a crap? No one notices napkins!”

A grin broke out across my face. “Oh my god. That’s exactly what I thought!” I said. “I was on the phone during that conversation, remember?”

She nodded slowly. “That’s right. God, it drove me nuts.”

I poked the tip of my tongue out of my mouth as she spoke. “I was a bit worried you’d been indoctrinated into the Bride Cult.”

She laughed. “Hell no. It’s all Mom. Even though we’re doing everything here, she’s still trying to control as much as she can. She’s even harassing me to do Pilates every morning just to make sure I look extra toned on the big day.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”

“I wonder why she wouldn’t tell us if she met someone new,” Libby mused, drifting back to our previous subject. “Usually she’s super excited when she meets a new guy. Especially if he’s rich...”

I nodded, frowning as I pondered the issue. Mom obviously got the money for her extravagant new purchases somewhere. So where? And why did she lie to us about it?

Clearly, she was hiding something.

But what?