“She is,” Brendon said, a smile tugging at his mouth as he looked across the room.
I followed his gaze back to a woman standing near the bar with his twin daughters. She looked to be somewhere in her early fifties, her dark hair pulled back in a loose twist, her hand resting lightly on one of the girls’ shoulders as they talked.
“Is it serious?” I asked, curious.
Dr. Brendon Aarden was a neurosurgeon nearly twenty years older than me, not exactly someone who would’ve been in my normal social circle. But as an acquaintance of my parents,when he’d heard about Alisha’s passing, he’d reached out to offer his support. His own wife had died a few years earlier, and he’d understood what I was going through in a way most people didn’t.
At the time, I hadn’t even known what kind of support I needed. But every day for months, Brendon had made sure to call or text me. Telling me I could answer if I was up to it or ignore it if I wasn’t.
Sometimes I answered. Sometimes I didn’t. Either way, it was always nice to know he was there. And when I needed to vent about the strange, tangled mess grief left behind, he was the one person who understood—never trying to fix it or tell me how I should feel.
“I mean,” Brendon said with a quiet chuckle, lifting his champagne glass for a sip, “I did just ask her to marry me, so I’d say it’s pretty serious.”
“What?” I turned to him, stunned. “Since when?”
“We got engaged in December.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What? Didn’t you just start dating right before that?”
He laughed. “That’s just when we started telling people.” He tipped his glass slightly in her direction. “We’ve actually been pretty serious for a year.”
“Really?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.
Brendon’s smile softened, turning a little distant, like his mind had wandered somewhere far beyond the reception lawn.
“We’ve known each other since we were teenagers,” he said. “Lost touch for a long time. And of course I was happily married to Brianna for all those years.” He paused for a moment before adding quietly, “But life has a way of surprising you.”
I let out a slow breath and took a sip from my own champagne.
“It’s hard putting yourself out there again,” I admitted. “When you know how badly it can hurt to lose it.”
“That’s true,” Brendon said. “And I still think about Brianna every day.” He reached over and gave my shoulder a firm pat. “But just because putting yourself out there again can leave you open to pain, doesn’t mean it’s not worth the risk of finding joy again, too.”
He glanced at me knowingly. “Of course, you’ve got to do what feels right for you, though.”
Before I could respond, movement on the dance floor caught my attention.
Miles and Nora had stepped out among the other couples.
They were moving easily together, laughing as Miles said something that made Nora tip her head back with a bright smile.
I found myself watching them.
Curious about how things were going tonight. If those smiles and quiet whispers were just part of the act… or something more.
Then again, with a night like this—music drifting through the air, lights glowing overhead, two people pledging forever just a few hours earlier—it probably wouldn’t take much for anyone to get a little swept up in the moment.
Miles guided Nora into a slow turn, his hand settling at her waist when she came back to him. And judging by the way she laughed softly at something he murmured in her ear, they both seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit.
Who is Miles putting on this performance for?
I let my gaze drift across the dance floor, trying to spot the potential audience for this little show. If Miles was going to go through the trouble of making a relationship look convincing, there had to be someone here he wanted to convince. Someone he wanted to make jealous.
Probably a woman who’d shown up with a date.
That would make the most sense, at least.
I scanned the couples moving across the floor.