I looked at the bouquet, then back at him and smiled.
“Then let me plan something special for us.”
His expression instantly brightened.
He thought I meant romance.
Maybe a few months earlier, I would have.
But by then, I’d started paying much closer attention.
Three days later, a message arrived from a number I didn’t recognize.
“I think we need to talk about Ryan.”
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
My first thought was that it involved work, perhaps someone from his office who’d gotten my number at the party.
I replied.
“Who is this?”
The answer came almost immediately.
“Hannah. The woman you saw at the party.”
My stomach dropped.
We met the next afternoon at a coffee shop across town.
I recognized her the moment she walked in.
She sat opposite me, wrapped both hands around her cup, and looked like she hadn’t slept much either.
