It could only mean one thing.

“I wanted to tell you in person,” Paulina said.

Elodie stared at the pink diamond until she was able to summon her voice.

“That ring is a symbol of how you betrayed me. I hope you think of that every time you look at it. I know I certainly will. And I’ll never forgive you.”

Not as long as she lived.

45

The Fourth of July parade started late morning.

Giant bunches of rainbow balloons traveled down Commercial Street attached to floats shaped like sea creatures, the American flag, and the Pilgrim Monument. Dancing drag queens were decked out in red, white, and blue sequins, and candy-colored vintage cars puttered past the crowd of onlookers.

Gemma and Alvie staked out a viewing spot in front of Maud’s Victorian. They were dusted with stray glitter after only a few minutes. Along the parade route, all the shop owners and tourists with children and locals taking a time-out from the beach and pool cheered the participants on.

Gemma felt almost carefree. She’d always liked the Fourth of July. When she was little, she’d watched the extravagant Hamptons fireworks show from the deck at her mother’s family’s beach house. Later, after she moved in with her father’s parents, Nana took her to a little park where the local kids played softball and basketball. Everyone sat on blankets and watched a more modest version of the celebration she remembered from her other life. Once she got to college, the Fourth of July wasn’t as big of a deal in the city. Mostly, she and her friends drank too much and hung out in Washington Square Park.

But now, back at the beach, she felt her childlike enthusiasm returning. How could she not? Even on an average day in Provincetown, there was a certain whimsy in the air. On a holiday, you had to work hard not to find something to smile about.

“Isn’t that your man?” Alvie said. Gemma followed the direction she was pointing in, expecting, on some gut level, to see Sanjay. But Alvie was talking about Connor Harrison.

“He’s not my man,” Gemma said.

“I’m sure that can be fixed.”

“Very funny. And stop pointing—”

Too late. Connor must have sensed their eyes on him because he turned in their direction as surely as if they’d called out his name. He moved toward them, weaving through the crowd. She hadn’t seen him since dinner at his house two weeks ago—not for lack of trying on his part. Gemma just kept telling him she was busy. She’d had a good time; she enjoyed his company. But she needed to keep things casual.

And yet, she kept forgetting how handsome he was. Every time she saw him, he was more tan, more golden.