Page 22 of The Four Engagement Rings of Sybil Rain
W E BURST OUT OF THE SWINGING DOORS AND PRACTICALLY CRASH INTO a startled bellhop, who eyes us with a mixture of amusement and suspicion. “Everything all right, folks?” he asks.
“Peachy!” I gasp, tugging Jamie’s hand and pulling him toward the lobby. “Just… uh… testing the fire escape route.”
The bellhop raises an eyebrow, but thankfully decides not to pursue it.
When we reach the lobby lounge, we collapse onto a plush velvet sofa, the kind that practically swallows you whole.
A light rain has started drumming against the massive windows overlooking the ocean, but the clouds are moving swiftly over the water, with breaks where sun leaks through.
I think about what Ash said when I first arrived; the rain here is beautiful, and it always brings rainbows.
“Okay,” I say, still a little breathless with laughter, “I think we officially owe that bellhop a fruit basket.”
Jamie grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or maybe a lifetime supply of Kauffman Estates Cabernet?”
“Ooh, good call,” I say, nudging him with my elbow. “Think your dad can up production by about 500 percent?”
He raises an eyebrow, looking amused but also a bit confused.
But before he can continue the bit, I spot a familiar-looking green cardboard box sitting on the coffee table among some other games. It’s Monopoly Deal, a card game Jamie and I used to spend a shameful amount of time playing on random rainy Sundays or when we were stuck somewhere like an airport.
“Shall we?” I ask with a faux-formal gesture.
Jamie chuckles. “I thought you swore never to play against me again after what happened last time.”
“I was petty furious Grandma G let you cheat,” I say with a grin. “She always seemed like such an honest woman.” I’m busy shuffling through the cards, so I don’t notice the shadow that’s crossed Jamie’s face until I look up to ask, “How is she, by the way?”
“She… she passed away last year. Around Christmas.”
The news hits me like a punch to the gut. “Oh, Jamie,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but I can see the sadness in his eyes. “Thanks. It was pretty sudden. But we were all able to be there with her. And she lived a good, long life.”
“That doesn’t make it hurt any less.” I reach over to take Jamie’s hand. “She was an amazing woman,” I say, my voice cracking. “She always treated me like family, even when…” I trail off, not wanting to dredge up old wounds.
Jamie squeezes my hand back. “She really liked you, Sybil. She always said you were a bright light in my life.”
We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of the unspoken hanging between us. A year. A whole year we’ve been apart, missing out on each other’s lives, unable to share the joys and sorrows.
Jamie clears his throat, breaking the spell. “What do you say? Care for a rematch? In Grandma G’s honor, of course.”
“Bring it on, Kauffman,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “But don’t expect any mercy this time.”
We settle into a comfortable silence, the familiar drawing and flipping of cards.
After demanding one of my property cards, Jamie breaks the silence.
“So,” he says, his voice regaining its playful lilt, “tell me more about this marine biologist boyfriend of yours. What’s his name again?
He sounds…” I am certain he’s going to say fictional, but instead he raises an eyebrow and says, “ fascinating .”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. At this point, I think it’s obvious we both know where this joke is headed. “Oh, he is. Absolutely fascinating. The total package. You might even call him a fantasy boyfriend.”
“You know what else is fascinating,” Jamie says, taking his turn to draw two cards, “is how I have yet to see him even once over these past three days.” I can see the amusement in his eyes.
We’re only halfway through the game, but he looks like he’s already won.
“Tell me, does his research also include experiments on invisibility? Because that would be—”
“If you say ‘fascinating’ one more time…” I interrupt.
Jamie just smiles. He’s clearly onto me, the little liar that I am.
Would it be so bad if I were to fess up and admit to the whole charade?
It would be mortifying, of course, to reveal how insecure and immature I still am.
But it seems like Jamie already knows the truth anyway.
And when I look at him, really look at him, his eyes are filled with a gentle warmth.
A quiet understanding that makes my fears seem silly.
He’s not judging me; he’s waiting, patiently, for me to open up.
Just then, his phone rings. He glances at the screen, and his smile falters. “It’s Genevieve,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of apology.
My stomach plummets. Of course. Genevieve.
“I should probably take this,” he says, setting down his hand of cards and getting to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, forcing a smile. “I think I’ll head up to my room anyway. I should shower.”
He hesitates, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say, trying to sound casual as I start gathering up all the cards and unceremoniously shoving them back into the box. “See you later.”
He gives me a small smile and heads toward the front doors to take the call outside, where the rain has already stopped. I watch him go, my heart sinking.
With a sigh, I head toward the elevators. I’m so distracted by my own thoughts that I walk headlong into another person.
“Whoa, there.” A man grabs my shoulders to steady me, and I look up into a pair of startlingly familiar blue eyes.
Oh. My. God.
“Seb—” The word comes out in a breathless exhale.
I can’t believe it. Is it possible that somewhere between the couch and the elevator bank, I simply passed out and am now having some sort of ex-fiancé-related nightmare?
Sebastian Wallace-Conway. Broad chest, sandy-blond hair, rucksack slung over his shoulder. The last time I saw his face was… well, technically it was in his little profile picture on his Instagram account when we were messaging two days ago.
And now he is somehow here, in the flesh.
“What are you doing here?”
He flashes his trademark grin. “I told you I was coming.” His blue eyes twinkle.
“What?” Am I hallucinating this conversation?
“I took a puddle jumper, like you said. Thought I’d come visit an old friend.”
I’m still not really following… “You what?”
“Besides, all that talk about being alone at the beach? I knew you wanted company.”
Oh my god. He was serious about that?
I’m still barely comprehending the situation, but seeing him here now, in a rumpled linen shirt and khaki pants with his blond hair ruffled by the sea breeze and his blue eyes still as bright as sapphires, it all feels familiar.
I remember the addictive rush of all the highs and lows with Sebastian.
Grand romantic gestures to spackle over the disappointments.
I’ve lost myself in my thoughts again and don’t notice Jamie and Genevieve walking toward us until they’re almost upon us.
Genevieve has a huge smile on her face. “Sybil! This must be the boyfriend!” she exclaims, with something that, dare I say it, sounds a little like relief.
“The boy—” Jamie starts to repeat with a confused look on his face.
But he stops mid-word when he recognizes the man I’m standing next to.
Jamie looks from me to Sebastian and back again.
They’ve never met, but Jamie obviously knows who Sebastian is.
We did the whole “postmortem of exes” thing after two months of dating.
When I showed Jamie Sebastian’s picture, he gave a cocky little half smile and said, “This guy? He looks like an Indiana Jones wannabe.” I’d giggled along with him, even though part of me had felt his assessment was a bit unfair.
But there’s no confident smirk on Jamie’s face right now. He looks completely blindsided. Not to mention, I’m sure he’s wildly confused. He knows Seb is a photographer, not a marine biologist.
“We’ve heard all about you,” Genevieve is saying to Seb. “Your research sounds really interesting.”
“Hi,” he says, gamely shaking their hands, because that’s just what Seb does. Goes along to get along. It’s always been his way; it’s why he has friends all over the planet, in at least three dozen different countries. “My research?” he adds.
“He really is diversifying!” I say, brightly—almost hysterically—“We were just heading out, right, Seb?!” I’m basically shouting, though in the back of my throat I kind of feel like I’m about to cry or maybe even scream.
“But Syb, what’s—” Seb starts.
Which is when I do the first stupid thing that comes to mind, and kiss him.