Page 92 of She's Like the Wind

I grinned. “Therapy. Bourbon. Guilt. You know. Growth.”

Jonah didn’t stay for a drink. He’d only come in because he’d seen us as he’d been walking down the street. He had dinner reservations at Restaurant Herbsaint next door.

We watched him disappear up Girod.

Naomi picked up the menu. “So, should we order a bottle of wine?”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

For the rest of the evening, we were like any other couple—eating good food, drinking fabulous wine, and being at ease with one another.

It was fucking awesome.

CHAPTER 32

Naomi

It was the quiet moments that got me.

Not the memories. Not the heartbreak.

It was the space Gage fillednow.

The way he’d hum something old—Billie or Otis or Ella—while tying his boots.

The way his laugh would rumble low in his chest when I exercised my dark humor.

I didn’t miss the man who’d walked out.

I missed the man who came back.

The one who was still here.

And I had a choice not to miss him,ifI could get past the fear that he would revert into the man who had walked outifI gave in.

It was confusing.

But as Lysander said about Hermia, “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

If we’re going by Shakespeare, Naomi, didn’tHamlet’s mama Gertrude say, ”Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; and where little fears grow great, great love grows there”?

Maybe I shouldn’t be looking to Shakespeare for love advice, since he had a habit of turning every romance into a tragedy, usually with at least one stabbing and a dramatic monologue before the credits rolled.

“Did you see this?” Aurelie opened the door of Aire Noire, shrieking.

“See what?”

Aurelie pushed her phone into my hand. On the screen was a photo of the Aire Noire display from the Marigny Trunk Show.

It had—holy mother of God—made it ontoMartha Stewart Weddings.

I read through the short but glowing write up; and said aloud the last sentence, “Aire Noire is the lingerie boutique every bride needs but doesn’t know she’s dreaming of.”

We both began to scream, “Oh my God,” as we jumped.

No bridal magazine overview would be complete without mention ofMartha Stewart Weddings, which was one of the highest-rated wedding publications in America.

“You know what.” I gripped her shoulders. “I didn’t pay attention when someone said something, but…now it makes sense. I’ve had tourists stop by,anda bride sent an email asking for opening hours.”