Page 28 of The Four Engagement Rings of Sybil Rain

I T’S A SHORT WALK TO THE STABLES, OVER A SMALL STREAM, AND DOWN A tree-lined path.

When I told Seb during brunch that I was going riding today, he quickly signed himself up as well, grabbing the last open spot for this morning’s excursion.

After all , he said with a grin, it’s the perfect opportunity to rehearse our fake relationship —to which I rolled my eyes.

We reach the clearing where the rest of our horseback riding crew is gathered and introduce ourselves.

There are two retired science teachers, Hank and Elliot, as well as an elaborately made-up woman named Harriet who is sporting not only glitter eyeshadow at eleven thirty in the morning but also a flowing caftan that looks like an accident waiting to happen.

And there, in the back, petting a gray dappled mare with a lush black mane, is Genevieve.

She waves hello, and I wave back—grateful that, for once, Jamie does not seem to be with her.

“Go ahead and pick a horse,” Kaia, our leader for the morning’s ride, tells the group.

I walk toward a roan mare with a bright white star in the center of her forehead.

The horse nuzzles my hand when I reach her, and I wish I’d thought to grab an apple or some sugar cubes from the breakfast buffet for her.

After a few more sniffs, she gives up looking for food, and I’m able to stroke the soft white splash of color on her nose.

One large brown eye looks at me, and I feel some of the nervous tension leak away.

The mare’s presence is calming. Her deep, glossy eyes stare at me knowingly, and I feel my breath slow down just a little.

Kaia comes up beside me and pats the horse on the neck. “This is Lo, she’s a sweetheart.” I scratch beneath her chin, and Lo snuffles into my hand.

Kaia gives her a couple firm pats on the neck and moves down the line of horses, double-checking all the tack and introducing the riders to their mounts.

“If you feel comfortable mounting the horse on your own, please do so,” Kaia calls from the far end of the corral. “Otherwise, I’ll come along to help you up.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Seb says casually from where he’s standing beside his horse. “Sybil knows how to mount. Right, babe?”

Dear lord.

Sebastian takes a small hop to get up on the horse, and almost falls backward, but manages it. To his point, I am actually able to mount my horse without much incident.

“Everyone good?” Kaia asks. Then she mounts the horse next to Sebastian’s and leads us out of the corral.

It’s only a few minutes before the trail opens up, and we’re out of the shady glade near the stable and onto the beach.

Lo’s steps are slow and sure, and I relax into the saddle, letting my body sway slightly with each step, listening to the horses splashing delicately through the surf.

Kaia leads us to the trail that Jamie and I walked on Tuesday after we abandoned the snorkel boat, but where Jamie and I had kept closer to the beach, Kaia guides us away from the water and up the side of the mountain.

The path narrows, and leaves brush against my calves.

We wind up a switchback, and Lo and I are forced into a single-file line behind the older woman, Harriet, and ahead of Seb.

There’s a dull roar ahead of us, and when the trail opens up into a clearing, it’s obvious where the noise is coming from: at the far end of the clearing is a crystal pond fed by a fifty-foot waterfall.

“How gorgeous,” I say softly, letting Lo come to a stop.

Kaia sees the expression on my face, too, and smiles.

She brings her horse next to me and points up above the waterfall.

There’s another small clearing, but it doesn’t look like we could get there on horseback.

“This is my grandfather’s favorite spot on the island.

He always hikes up here when he has some problem to figure out.

” Kaia pats the neck of her horse. “He says if he hasn’t solved it by the time he’s reached the top of the waterfall, it’s because he needs to get right with God.

And if he hasn’t solved it after a night under the stars, it’s because he needs to get right with my grandmother. ”

“He sounds like a smart man.” I laugh.

Kaia laughs, too, and steers her horse away. “Not as smart as my Tutu.”

I spend a moment there, just listening to the roar of the waterfall, capturing a few videos standing almost underneath the spray, where you can see the rainbows the water droplets form.

But then there’s another sound. A thundering growing louder and louder.

I turn toward the noise, and in the distance, something catches my eye.

It’s a horse and rider, emerging from the dense foliage like a mirage.

The wind picks up, tugging at my hair and carrying with it the pounding of hooves and a man’s shout.

Dust explodes around them for a moment, obscuring their details.

But when it settles, I see him clearly—a grin splitting his face, hair whipping wildly in the breeze.

This isn’t the kind of controlled, follow-the-guide riding we’ve been doing; this is raw, untamed freedom.

Him and his horse, one with the landscape, a picture straight out of an old Western movie.

When he reaches the clearing, Jamie pulls his horse to a stop, a cloud of dirt billowing behind him.

“Whoa there, Maverick,” he calls out, his voice ragged from the exertion. He glances over at our group apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t realize there was a lesson out right now. I hope I didn’t startle anyone.”

So much for not startling anyone—my heart is pounding at the sight of him.

Though less from being startled and more from being completely overwhelmed.

Did I really think I could just relax with Sebastian and clear my head without having to face the conundrum of being on a beautiful island with not one but two ex-fiancés?

“That was quite an entrance, Mr. Kauffman,” Kaia says with a smile. “Care to join us for lunch? We’re just about to break.”

Jamie hesitates for a moment, his gaze finally darting to mine but then quickly away again. “Yeah, sure. Thanks,” he says to Kaia, dismounting with practiced ease.

Off to the side of the clearing are several employees from the resort and a spread of picnic blankets and overstuffed pillows. There’s a grill set up, and the smell coming off it is amazing.

There’s also a space to hitch our horses. Everyone begins to dismount, and Kaia comes by to gather our reins. I slide off of Lo and hand them to her.

“Feel free to swim, take photos, or just relax while we finish getting lunch set up,” Kaia says with a smile.

Everyone is headed toward the waterfall, but my eyes only catch on Jamie.

He takes his shirt off and dives into the natural pool, resurfacing a few seconds later and shaking the water from his hair.

Jamie’s movements are slow and languid as he pulls himself out of the water, and the flicker in my chest zips through the rest of my body, crackling along my skin.

Water sluices across his chest and down his stomach.

His shorts cling to his thighs, and when he reaches down to scoop his shirt from the ground, they stretch even tighter.

I clear my throat.

“Not going for a dip?” Seb appears at my side and is following my heated gaze.

“Nope,” I say, my voice clipped. “How about you?”

“Darling, he can’t swim right now,” says Harriet, the woman in the glamorous caftan.

“I need him to take my photo with that fancy camera of his.” Her hand is suddenly wrapped possessively around Sebastian’s arm, which makes me cock an eyebrow at Seb.

He shrugs at me as if it’s his lot in life to be accosted by ostentatious women at least two decades his senior.

But at that moment, Kaia calls out that the food is ready.

The food is set out on a low table between the picnic blankets, and our small group convenes around it.

“Jamie, you looked excellent on that horse, man,” Seb says, as we all start loading up our plates.

His voice is warm, friendly. But still, I wish he wouldn’t engage more than he has to.

Jamie nods tightly, accepting the compliment.

The two of them both being here feels like a weird rift in the time-space continuum.

Like one wrong move could send us hurtling into a black hole.

“So,” Elliot, one of the retired science teachers, says, once we’re all settled. “Are the four of you here on a couples’ trip?”

“No.” The word comes out of Jamie’s mouth like a bullet, and he doesn’t elaborate.

Elliot’s eyes go wide, but he’s polite enough that he doesn’t push further. “Oh, of course. My mistake.” There’s a moment of silence as everyone turns to their meal to escape the awkwardness, but it’s broken almost immediately by Sebastian.

“Sybil and I are here celebrating,” he says with a cheeky grin, reaching over to squeeze my hand.

“Actually, babe ,” I say with a tight smile, “we’re here for work, remember?”

“Sure, sure,” Seb says easily. “The squid and the moon and all that.”

As an only child, I’ve never had the pleasure of dealing with an annoying little brother of my own.

But I’ve heard Nikki talk about hers enough times to recognize the similarities in how I’m feeling toward Seb right now.

I’m torn between wanting to sock him in the arm and bursting out laughing at his ridiculous attempt to play the besotted boyfriend.

He’s not even making an effort to be a convincing marine biologist. Though I’m glad that he at least seems to have retained the core details of our cover story.

“But still,” Seb continues, “this is kind of a special trip for us, isn’t it, Buttercup?”

“Oh?” Hank asks. “How come?”

I’m wondering the same thing. I narrow my eyes at Seb, silently warning him. But he ignores me, turning to Hank.

“Well, this is the first trip we’ve taken since we got back together.”

“You two have a history?” Kaia asks.

“Oh yes.” Seb’s eyes are twinkling. He lets go of my hand to reach an arm around my shoulders. “Our love story is one for the ages.”

There’s a clatter near the end of the lunch table. Everyone turns to see Jamie picking up the serving spoon he just knocked over. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“Well, I love a good romantic epic,” Harriet says, drawing everyone’s attention back to Seb. “Do tell.”

“Sybil and I met back in New York—how long ago was it, Schmoopie?”

“Six years ago,” I say through gritted teeth. “And I thought we agreed: no more pet names.”

“She loves it,” Seb says conspiratorially to Harriet.

“I really don’t,” I say to Harriet. I mean come on, schmoopie ? Is he my fake boyfriend or my fake grandpa talking to his fake cat?

“Anyway,” Seb continues, “we met and fell madly, deeply in love. I mean, honestly, can you blame me? Look at her.” He casts me a look that’s so genuinely affectionate that my cheeks turn pink despite my annoyance. “I was smitten. Even asked her to marry me. But tragically, fate intervened.”

“What happened?” Elliot asks.

“We grew apart,” “He moved to Tokyo,” Seb and I say at the same time.

I look at him. We grew apart? Is that really why he thinks our relationship ended?

Hank and Elliot exchange glances.

“Well, yes,” Seb says quickly, “I guess the breakup was kind of complicated. You see, I’m a photographer.

” He gestures down to his camera, still slung across his chest. Then panic paints his features.

“Um, I mean, I sometimes take pictures in addition to being a, uh…” I mouth the words at him: marine biologist .

“A marine biologist, right,” he adds, and it’s all I can do to not kick him.

“Anyway,” Seb continues, “I got this really amazing job opportunity in Tokyo. So I went, and that was the end of things.”

“But you were engaged?” Genevieve says, looking at me curiously. “Why didn’t you go with him?”

I hesitate. Seb’s been mostly sticking to the real-life facts of our relationship so far, but I really don’t want to get into everything that happened with Tokyo right now.

Luckily, Seb, who is clearly relishing holding the group’s rapt attention, jumps in with the save. “Oh, we were young and stupid. Neither of us wanted to be tied down. It just wasn’t meant to be.”

Again, not quite how I remember things. But I try to keep a blissful smile on my face, pretending along with Seb that this is just a small blip in our past, a funny anecdote we can laugh about now and not one of the worst heartbreaks of my life.

“So how did you get back together?” Hank asks.

Seb’s lips twist into a grin. He removes his arm from around my shoulder and leans his forearms on the table.

Automatically, Hank, Elliot, and Genevieve do the same.

He’s got them eating out of the palm of his hand.

For a second, I worry Seb is going to tell them about all the times we “got back together” after the Tokyo breakup—aka all the ill-advised hookups we indulged in whenever he was passing through town, while I was still single and lost—before I met Jamie.

But instead, he says, “About a year ago, I heard that Sybil was getting married.”

Immediately, my spine tenses.

“I saw a social media post from one of her friends that she was at her bachelorette party, and I decided to give Sybil a call to wish her well—just as old friends, of course.”

“Babe, I don’t think anyone wants to hear this story,” I say, the words tumbling out in a rush as I try to convey the urgency I feel without making it obvious. I was mildly annoyed and begrudgingly amused by Seb’s antics before. But now he’s verging toward dangerous territory.

“No, no! Keep going!” Harriet says, raising a heavily made-up brow, and I fight the impulse to fling a forkful of grilled steak salad at her.

“So I called, and we talked, and it was like no time had passed,” Seb says. “We still knew each other so well. And I could tell that things weren’t over between us—”

“Seb,” I interject. He needs to stop this, right now. But he’s either oblivious or getting some sick enjoyment out of this, because he keeps going.

“The next thing I knew, word came around that Sybil had decided not to get married after all. Guess he just wasn’t the right guy.”

His gaze drifts toward the other picnic blanket.

It’s subtle—I’m sure Hank and Elliot won’t have even noticed—but Jamie has.

He’s gripping his fork with excessive strength, his knuckles white.

Acid fills my throat. Jamie didn’t know about Seb’s phone call.

There was no need for him to. It was irrelevant.

Seb’s making it out to be way more than it was.

He’s making it sound like I left Jamie for him .

I stare at Jamie, silently pleading with him to meet my eyes, but he refuses. Seb slings an arm around my shoulder again, tugging me close to his side.

“And the rest,” he says, dropping a kiss to the crown of my head, “is history.”