Trey had a strong, immediate intuition that Stanford was the school for him. Period. He didn’t say Lexie Pine’s name as he made this decision. He didn’t even really think it. But perhaps he felt the ghost of her pushing him west. It was a prestigious choice, so Maura was an easy sell. She was thrilled he’d consider it after Spence got his no.

He worried Spence would fight him on it or be angry. He couldn’t let it get ugly. Spence was family, and they would one day work at the same firm. He framed Stanford as what Maura wanted, and Spence was surprisingly cool. Maybe he wanted a break from Trey, too. He’d felt something for Lexie, and he had failed her. Trey was part of that.

“I’ll miss you, cuz, but I get it. You have to follow the pussy,” he said. “I’m going to stay at UVA, I think. I’ll see you back at home.”

That was that. Trey and Maura got married after graduation and spent the summer roaming Europe, exactly as she’d wanted. He didn’t think about Lexie often, and when he did, the accompanying shame made him shove it away. He never considered what had become of her, or at least not realistically. He was young, and he had grown up wealthy; he didn’t have the context. In his head she’d faced the consequences he would have had to face. Embarrassment. An angry parent. A different, maybe less impressive school. He was not from a place where people got only one shot or were allowed only one mistake. In his world there were infinite chances.

He finished law school. He came home to Georgia and passed the bar. He started his job, working crazy hours to earn his partnership. He realized Maura had meant it the thousand times she’d said she never wanted kids, and they began letting go of each other, working toward an amicable split. By the time he met me in the High Museum, Lexie Pine was a lost night that had happened more than a decade in his past.

He left her there, and there she stayed. Until right now. He set the whole story down before me, every detail, bleak and ugly. Then he looked at me, ashamed and sorry, afraid and defensive, to see if I still loved him after this.

17

On the way back to Atlanta, with Bree driving, Marshall began calling in markers and burning stored-up favors. Before he was done, he might be in favor debt. But this was Bree. This was her baby. No regrets.