“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?” She glances out the window at the rain beating down on the city.
“Fine,” I answer without much thought.
“Fine?” she parrots back, amusement lacing her tone. “You looked way too good for the evening to turn out fine.”
The added emphasis she puts on the last word lures a soft smile to my mouth.
“He had a work issue.” I shrug a shoulder. “His eyes were glued to his phone.”
“Dump him,” she says with a grin as she walks closer to me. “If a man can’t turn off his phone when he’s with you, he’s not a keeper, Kate.”
I’d agree, but I’ve been known to take phone calls from panicked brides when I’ve been on a date. Preston was as attentive as he could be considering that the client who called him repeatedly last night apparently has him on speed dial.
“Did Gage ever ignore you to talk on his phone?”
My head pops up at the question. She can’t know how ironic it is, so I fill in the blanks for her. “No, but he dumped me just a few days before our wedding. No explanation, no apology. He just ended things.”
Her hand jumps to cover her mouth. “Oh, shit, Kate. I had no idea.”
I tuck a hand in the pocket of my red skirt. “It’s not a story I like sharing.”
“I understand.” Her gaze ducks to the floor. “He’s an idiot.”
Many people have claimed the same thing over the years. First, it was my parents and my brother. When I moved to New York, it was Tilly and Olivia. Even a couple of the men I’ve dated have weighed in on Gage when I’ve shared the story of my biggest heartbreak.
“It was forever ago.” I walk toward a rack of veils. “He’s a part of my past.”
“Who stepped right into the middle of your present,” she points out. “What’s his story now?”
“His story?” I bounce back her words with a tilt of my head.
“Has he explained why he dumped you?” She locks eyes with me. “You want to know, don’t you?”
Ignoring her direct questions, I run my fingers over the veils. “I got over him a long time ago.”
I catch the skeptical look in her eyes when I glance back at her.
“I’ve moved on,” I go on, pushing the wheeled rack a few inches toward the corridor that leads to the stockroom. “I’m sure he has to. We’re not the same people who almost got married five years ago.”
We both jump at the sound of a knock on the door.
It’s not the first time a bride has come back after her appointment to purchase a dress she passed over.
When the realization sets in that a woman has walked away from her dream gown, she’ll try and right that wrong as soon as possible.
“I’ll get it.” Natalie walks back to where she was standing just moments ago.
She peers out into the rain, her hand moving over the lock on the door.
“It’s Athena.”
Athena Millett owns the flower shop next door. She’s a beautiful breath of fresh air.
“Come in.” Natalie tugs her in by her arm. “What are you doing out in the rain?”
Athena holds out a large bouquet of multi-colored pastel roses. “I’m making a delivery.”