“Or something.” Griffin looked over at me and smiled. He brushed a strand of hair away from my face. The car turned onto a gravel driveway. It looked like a home, but it was a restaurant. There were few cars parked out front. We walked into a sparsely decorated space tastefully decorated but, oh, the view. The back was entirely windows overlooking the water. The full moon had taken over the cloudless sky. The image perfectly reflected in the water. I noticed an occasional ripple. It was as if the water and the moon were in a clandestine conversation. It was breathtaking.

We were seated at the best table. Upon our arrival, a sidecar and a snifter of cognac were delivered to us.

“Since when did you start drinking cognac?”

“You are a fine one to talk. I’m toasting the happy couple.”

“I count on your sobriety.” But I toasted with him anyway. We ordered nothing and yet plates of food arrived without question. I switched to a decaf cappuccino, and with my first sip, I shook my head.

“Really? I’m glad there are some things I can do better for you than anyone else,” Griffin said as a tray of desserts arrived along with a plate of colorful sorbets. I looked at the green one, tasted it first, and found it drizzled in nostalgia. A petite woman with black hair pulled back in a tight bun brought a small plate of chocolate truffles over.

“I heard a rumor you were here. What do you think of the new sorbets? The watermelon and basil is my favorite.” She leaned over and kissed Griffin in a familiar way. “Let me guess, this vision of loveliness in lavender has to be the very original Bailey.” She met my eyes with the same familiarity as she kissed Griffin. I realized they knew each other well.

“I love your place, Elaine. You are right, it’s the most remote point on the island but well worth the drive. And yes, this is Bailey.” We chatted a little longer as we sampled each of her delightful sorbets. Was I afraid Griffin was going to introduce me to Elaine as something more than a fellow restaurateur? She gave Griffin a key and said it opened the back door and the room upstairs.

When she left, Griffin and I were imprisoned by our own thoughts. From time to time he looked at me and touched my hand.

“Are you sorry it’s me here with you and not Elliott?” And then he asked, “Are you sorry it wasn’t you getting married?” I shook my head. That had not even occurred to me. My mind was elsewhere, bouncing from the incomparable view to the empty table next to us.