The discomfort she’d felt for years over Paul’s relationship—her innate knowledge that it stifled and shamed all of the things she most loved about her best friend—now felt insufficient, even naive. It wasn’t just a question of mismatched personalities, it was a question of verbal and emotional abuse, at minimum. How much Paul had hidden from her over the years, whether his complaints were just the tip of a much more sinister iceberg—none of it was clear. But it was clear that she had to do everything in her power to stop Paul from taking this next step. If they got married (let alone adopted a child, as Guy wanted), there might be nothing remaining of the Paul she so loved.

“Is it okay if I use one of your hand towels?” he asked, water still running.

“Use whatever you want,” Alex answered, walking toward him with his glass of water.

She watched him in the bathroom mirror as he shut off the faucet and gently patted his face dry, looking up at her in the reflection and offering her a half-hearted smile.

“I’m going to be fine,” he said, setting the towel down on the counter. “I shouldn’t have gotten so dramatic.”

“You weren’t being dramatic,” she corrected, extending her hand toward him.

He grabbed the glass, moving past her and back into the expansive bedroom. “Guy and his parents put so much work into this wedding, and I’m throwing a tantrum about a stupid caftan,” he said, his back still facing her as he walked.

Finally, he plopped himself down in the corner armchair near the writing desk, taking another sip of water before nodding his head for emphasis.

She remained where she stood, keeping a safe distance from him to let their respective emotions breathe. “Is that what you think happened down there?”

“Listen, babe, I love you, but I really don’t need a lecture right now.”

“I’m not lecturing you,” she said, feeling the emotion rise up in her throat. “I’m worried about you.” He averted his eyes, and she cleared her throat without thinking, which drew them back to her. “Do you think you don’t deserve love?”

She hadn’t intended to phrase it that way, but once it was out, she let the question linger.

“You have to be kidding me,” he replied, tilting his head slightly in exasperation.

“What?”

“Do I think I deserve love, coming from the girl who’s been denying herself the relationship she actually wants for the past ten years? It’s a little much.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

“You know how hard it was. You were there.”

A pointed silence bloomed between them, and he shifted in his chair.