My Darling Bride(71)

I curl up in the bed and fall asleep, my dreams turning dark as Graham is on the football field underneath a pile of players.



The next morning I’m awake by six as I try to remember where I am. The beach. I get excited when I find a fluffy white robe in the back of the closet. I slip it on and tiptoe out into the den.

He’s not on the couch. In fact, it looks as if he hasn’t been here at all.

I’m making coffee when I find the manila envelope with a note on top of it on the counter.

Emmy,

I left after you went to bed. I’m certain no PI followed us so no one will know. Enjoy the beach. In the envelope are keys to the apartment and cash for whatever pops up. I’ll be in Atlanta, then I’m going to Seattle to handle some personal things. I’ll text you soon.

G

My heart thumps erratically, and I tense up, a chill running down my spine as I drop the note. Pressing my hand to my chest, I gasp in a deep breath and exhale slowly out of parted lips. Inhale, exhale. Gradually, it steadies itself, and I’m unsure if the episode was simply due to the fact that Graham left me or something else.

Just enjoy the day. Bask in the sun. Fine, I can do that. Alone.

On Sunday, the car picks me up at noon. By three, I’m standing in front of the Wickham apartments, wearing the dress I got married in. Brody meets me and introduces me to the doormen and desk workers. Once on the elevator, he keeps darting his eyes at me.

He points out his smaller apartment, then shows me to Graham’s. We walk inside, and I blink at the seventies throwback. In the den is the penis statue, about four feet tall and lime green.

“It’s worth a few grand,” Brody tells me. “Graham says I can have it, but it’s bolted to the floor. Looks like you’re stuck with it.”

“I won’t be here long,” I murmur. “Just until your inheritance comes in. Do you ever wonder if all this was worth it?”

Brody’s face grows serious. “Marriage was never my idea. Mostly because I don’t want to see my brother hurt.”

I say nothing.

“Guess the honeymoon wasn’t so hot?”

“He left.”

Brody nods sagely. “And if you think hard enough, you’d know why.”

I swallow, looking away.

“Come this way, and I’ll show you your bedroom.”

We pass Graham’s bedroom, and I peek in. It’s huge and done in shades of white and navy. There’s a balcony outside his room that connects to the one in the den. Brody tells me there are views to Central Park.

Across the hall is my room, the next-biggest bedroom. The white metal bed frame looks new, with a plush white duvet and velvet pillows in cream. I take in the white wicker dresser, a fancy armoire, and a big mirror propped against the wall. What makes my breath catch is a sketch of the bookstore, framed on the wall. I marvel at the detail, a smile coming from me when I notice that the woman in front of the store looks like me.

I glance at Brody, who’s fluffing a pillow. “Who did this? When?”

“Oh, that. I put it up yesterday. The artist is Francesca Avery. She’s super talented and happens to be married to a former player on the team, Tuck. Graham’s friend Jasper put him in touch with her. Sketching buildings is one of her specialties.”

“But when?”

“Graham sent her a pic of the store and the one of you at Borelli’s. She works fast. She’d be a great friend to you. They stay in the penthouse on and off.” He pauses. “Maybe Graham will let you keep it, you know, afterwards.”

“Right. Is all this bedroom stuff new?”

“I picked everything out, and Graham approved it. I wish he’d let me redo the entire place, but he wanted to start with this room.”

He could have just put a cot in here, and I would have been fine with it, but these little touches, the new furniture, the sketch, his bangle, the money after our divorce—he’s done more than was required. I’m unused to someone else taking care of me.

In the kitchen, Brody gives me a paper with a schedule on it that tells me a grocery delivery is sent every Tuesday that I’ll need to pick up downstairs, or they’ll deliver it to the door if someone is here. A housekeeper comes every two weeks, on Monday mornings.

“If there’s anything you want moved here, such as furniture, I can set that up,” Brody says, and I tell him no, seeing no point in moving in anything but my toiletries and clothes, and Jane is bringing those to the store tomorrow in a duffel. I can get more as I need them.

He makes to leave, then pauses at the door. “Cas and I have cocktails in the apartment in the evenings. Come join us sometime if you want.”

“Thank you. Wait,” I say and then chew on my lips, my head churning.

“Yeah?”

“Your dad asked about my siblings and wants to meet them. He gave me his card. What do you think about a dinner with your dad, here at the apartment? I actually love to cook, but the stove at our place is always on the fritz. It might give your dad a chance to see that we’re connected as a family.”

He thinks about it, his hand tapping his leg.

“Super casual,” I add. “Just letting him know how crazy I am about Graham.”

“And are you?”

My hands clench around the paper I’m still holding, and Brody smiles broadly. “Fine, set it up. Dad would love to be invited here. He’s never been.”