Page 41 of The Four Engagement Rings of Sybil Rain

I THINK ABOUT CRAWLING RIGHT BACK INTO BED AND SPENDING THE REST of the day replaying the last few hours between me and Jamie, but I’ve got too much to do.

First, I manage to reach the local hospital by phone and learn that Seb is recovering fine and will be discharged back to the hotel shortly.

Another huge weight lifts off me. In the meantime, I throw on a simple black bikini and return to the beach.

By now it is mostly cleaned of debris from the storm but it’s still a little quieter than usual, the sand cold and compact beneath my feet.

Behind me, a couple hotel employees are opening sun umbrellas over the white-and-green–striped chairs where guests are having lunch.

I pull out my phone and think about gathering more content for Flowies, but after everything that’s happened, I feel a stronger urge to just stay in the present.

So instead of shooting a quick video, I FaceTime Willow.

“Bill!” she answers, and Nora’s chubby face pops into view beneath her chin. Nora lets out a delighted gurgle and reaches for the phone, but I get a glimpse of the ceiling fan as Willow maneuvers to keep the phone out of her grip. Her face fills the screen again. “I’m back.”

“I slept with Jamie,” I say without preamble.

Willow freezes. “Let me patch in Emma and Nikki, okay?”

I should have known Willow would send for reinforcements. There are a few moments while I wait for everyone’s face to appear on the screen, and then Willow says, “Start over.”

I tell them everything while pacing the beach—the fake boyfriend, Seb’s shocking arrival, the chaotic storm, Jamie’s unexpected rescue—and laugh as the girls gasp at various twists in the tale.

“We left things on good terms,” I conclude. “We’re going to try again. And I’m… happy. But also, if I’m being honest, I feel kind of terrified?”

“You’d be crazy if you weren’t scared,” Emma says. “Trust me on this, I know.”

I smile a little, thinking of Emma and Finn and how they found their way back to each other after years of false starts. If they can have a second chance at love, maybe Jamie and I can too.

“Yeah, it’s just…” My voice catches in my throat as I try to explain to them. “We talked about finally leaving the past behind us. But… have I really changed enough to deserve his love this time?”

Emma sucks in a breath, and when she finally speaks, it’s so intense, she sounds almost like a stern teacher telling me I’m in trouble.

“Sybil Rain. I need you to hear me on this. He did not decide to get back together with you because he thinks you’re some new Sybil 2.

0 who is suddenly responsible and stable enough to earn his love.

Besides, that’s not how love works anyway. ”

I know she’s right. Jamie said as much last night—that he was never looking for me to change or be someone I’m not. But some uncertainty must still register on my face because Willow jumps in.

“Emma’s right,” she says. “I know you’ve both had issues with trust in the past, but it sounds like you’re working through that—being more open with each other so there are no more doubts.

But love ? Jamie’s mind never had to be changed about that.

The only person who needs to be convinced that you are worthy of a great love, Sybil, is you. ”

Well, crap. I hadn’t meant to start crying, but here we are.

But still, I press on. “But… he’s headed straight from the airport to a Kauffman Group board meeting, and we all know how much they love me.

What if his family talks him out of it again?

” I try not to let my voice tremble, to betray how much this fear still has a grip on me.

Nikki clears her throat, and I realize that up until now, she’s been uncharacteristically quiet through this call. “Sybil. I have to tell you something.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say she sounds… guilty. “Okay.”

“I knew that Jamie was going to be at Halia Falls this week.”

“Wait—what?”

“His sister told me about how he was going to be taking a trip down for his new wine business.” Emma’s mouth has dropped open, but Nikki keeps going. “Which is why when your ticket vouchers were running out… I pushed you to stay at Halia Falls too.”

“Nikki!” I almost trip on a piece of driftwood.

“You’ve been doing so well, but you haven’t been with anyone since the wedding.

Jamie’s also been in a huge rut, apparently.

Amelia said he’s been miserable. ‘Like a shell of a person,’ she said.

And I guess I thought there might still be something there between y’all.

It always seemed like y’all were endgame.

” Nikki’s accent has begun to deepen, as it does whenever she’s under pressure.

Emma’s voice is soft with awe. “Nikki, you’re a master-mind.”

“What the hell were you doing talking to Amelia?” I ask, still trying to process this. The whole thing was… a setup? I’m not sure whether to be amused or humiliated.

“She’s a big LovedBy fan. We met at the wedding, and she’s been DMing me,” Nikki says, and in any other scenario this would be a golden nugget of information I would cherish forever: Miss Hoity-Toity District Court Judge loves reality TV just like the rest of us.

“I’m sorry, Sybs. I shouldn’t have played matchmaker behind your back like that. ”

“Well, I guess I can’t hate you for wanting what’s best for me,” I admit, my initial shock giving way to something more tender. The idea not just that my friends were concerned about me after the breakup, but that Amelia could see what a toll it had taken on Jamie. That’s what really gets me.

“I just hope it all works out,” Nikki says, chewing on her lip. “Can you blame me for wanting a happy ending for you?”

“Of course not,” I say, swallowing down a lump in my throat.

“I want that for you too.” In that moment, it’s like the clouds in my mind have parted, and I see with perfect clarity how, beyond all the troubles in my own life, Nikki has had a crazy time of her own, ever since her public breakup on LovedBy , and I’ve barely had the bandwidth to be there for her .

Yet despite that, she’s gone out of her way to try and save my love story.

Suddenly, it hits me: maybe I am worthy of great love.

Maybe I’m lucky enough to already have it.

Because the bond I share with these three girls is fierce and unbreakable.

And strangely, I’ve never once questioned whether I deserve it—because they’ve never made me feel less than wholly and unconditionally loved.

I’m so overwhelmed by it that I want to cry all over again. But now is not the time for more tears.

“Listen, girls, I’ve gotta get ready for the eclipse event,” I tell them. “I’ll call you all when I get home.”

There’s an echo of “Love you”s from everyone as we sign off.

I turn to face the ocean—those beautiful waves Seb had been so determined to photograph.

It was only last night, but it feels like a lifetime ago that I was shivering alone on the beach in the darkness and the cold while Seb was out there with his camera, chasing the thing that mattered most to him—which wasn’t me, and never had been.

As the storm has left the island, the waves have gentled somewhat; the sun sparkles off the blue, and I take a deep breath, ready to let go of the fear.

Ready to believe that I can accept a great love—because, in fact, I have.

I SPEND THE NEXT hour prepping some Flowies merch bags I plan to hand out at tonight’s eclipse watch party, filling the bright purple totes with rose quartz crystals, night-blooming jasmine bath salts, and a set of celestial-themed tarot cards along with a discount coupon for our most popular panties set.

I text back and forth with Seb, who seems to have mostly recovered from his one-sided fight with the camera tripod. He tells me he’s spending the day resting up in his room, but promises to make an appearance tonight at the viewing party.

I’m desperate to text Jamie, and almost type out some needy messages: Hey just checking real quick do you still love all of me?

But there’s no point, since Jamie’s surely in the air by now anyway, with his phone dutifully set to airplane mode.

Besides, if this is going to work, I have to trust him. I have to trust us.

I have a couple of hours left in the day before I need to get ready for tonight, so I leave the room determined to just hang at the hotel without the angst of worrying about who I’ll run into or what I have to hide.

Another dip in the pool (and a quick horoscope exchange with Derek, my favorite poolside waiter), a wander through those sculpture gardens (finally).

An iced tea at the tiki bar with Dani, whose eyes pop out of her skull when I tell her everything she’s missed out on (though Ash had obviously filled her in on the whole helicopter rescue mission).

Finally, I go back to my room and put some finishing touches on the little speech that I’m going to give during the Instagram live tonight.

I don’t want it to feel too scripted, but I also don’t want to stream out to thousands of people with nothing to say.

So I jot down some notes about wellness, sustainability, and empowering people with uteruses.

Around six, I shut my laptop and start to get ready for the event.

I pull on a dark blue low-cut maxi dress with a slit nearly all the way up the thigh—it’s ethereal, like something Willow would wear.

When I picked it out, I thought it was the perfect dress for a once-in-a-lifetime cosmic event: the same color as the night sky.

But now I’m realizing how tricky this outfit is to accessorize.

Any earrings I try on seem to overly dominate the ease of the dress, and the neckline doesn’t really work for a necklace.

Ultimately, I decide to keep it simple, letting the dress speak for itself, and going full beach waves with my hair instead of trying to fight the humidity.

Once I’m dressed and ready, I call down to the front desk to have someone help transfer the merch bags to the event space.

My mind is still reeling with everything that’s happened since last night, plus the revelation about how Nikki—and, more shockingly, Amelia —had a hand in orchestrating this whole trip.

But I try to psych myself up for tonight.

This was my pitch. Meredith took a chance on me, and I can’t let her down.

And through all the other things I’m feeling today, I am proud of myself for spearheading this campaign.

Maybe prouder than I’ve felt since I walked across the stage at USC this May with all those twenty-two-year-olds, having finally gone back and completed the last few credits I needed to graduate.

I didn’t tell anyone I was taking online courses until a few days before the ceremony.

I think a part of me was afraid to tell my friends and family what I was doing until I had actually done it.

That way if I failed, I’d only be letting myself down.

The person I most wanted to tell was Jamie, of course.

But by then, he and I weren’t speaking. So it was the Core Four who cheered me on from the stands.

Nikki holding a handmade sign with my name on it, Emma giving a two-finger whistle, Willow stamping her feet.

My parents were there as well. I remember looking out to the audience and seeing my mom dabbing her eyes as I was handed my diploma.

Period underwear and social media and the sheer concept of Los Angeles, they didn’t understand.

But a healthier, happier version of their daughter completing her undergraduate degree? That, they got.

And while I wish Liam hadn’t come to campus my senior year and sent me into a tailspin, maybe the fact that it took me an extra seven years to officially graduate made the whole thing that much more meaningful.

I wonder if I’ll feel that way if Jamie and I ever make it back to the aisle.

If the joy I’ll feel looking down at that future ring on my left hand will be that much stronger because of all the rings that came before.

I pull out the little velvet sack from the bottom of my suitcase and pour the three rings into my hand.

The citrine. The seaweed. The diamond.

Liam. Sebastian. Jamie.

Part of me is tempted to pull a Titanic and hurl them off the balcony into the ocean below.

To completely wipe the slate clean and release myself from the burden of this history.

To really start fresh with Jamie, pretending our past never happened.

But I know chucking my engagement rings into the sea wouldn’t actually free me.

And besides, I’ve decided I like having them around. They’re not talismans of failure. I can keep them safe in my heart without being weighed down by them. I can let them go, and still be grateful for what those relationships taught me about love—and about myself.

I don’t know if my relationship with Jamie will work out this time. Even now that we’ve been fully honest with each other, there are no guarantees. The only thing I know for sure is that I’m not going to run away. Not just because Jamie deserves better. But because I do.

And just as I think those last two words, I realize exactly what my outfit is missing.

I T’S A SHORT RIDE on a Halia Falls golf cart (borrowed with permission this time) back to the small market town. I find the jewelry seller’s stall, and the same woman I remember from yesterday is working again today.

“Hi,” I say. “I was here the other day. You had this ring—”

“The moonstone.” The woman nods slowly. “I knew you’d be back.” She leads me toward a shelf in the back of the booth and pulls the ring down from its velvet display. “Here. Try it on,” she encourages.

I slip on the ring and hold my right hand up to the sun. The light reveals swirls of blue and purple, green and gold. It’s unlike any ring I’ve ever owned. It’s unique. Almost otherworldly. Something about it speaks to me. It’s a ring that can symbolize this commitment I’m making to myself.

“They say moonstones are supposed to support healing,” the woman says. “I’ve always felt like they signal new beginnings.”

“I’ll take it.”