I ponder on that for a second as I stare at the carpet. “I . . . I don’t know.”

Just then, Ryot pokes his head out of the hotel room and glances down the hallway.

“Oh, I think I have to go. He’s looking for me.”

“Okay, well, think about what I said, okay? And whatever happens, just keep pushing yourself to understand more, to put all the pieces together, because if I know one thing for certain, it’s that Ryot Bisley might have lost your trust and broken your heart, but he very much could be the only one who could put it back together. Love you, girl.”

“Love you,” I say as I hang up the phone. I stand from the carpet and head toward the door.

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to give you a twenty-minute warning. I can head down, though, if you want, tell everyone you have a headache or something.”

God, he’s annoyingly sweet . . . and handsome. So freaking handsome. He’s wearing a pair of gray Chino pants and a light blue shirt along with the watch I got him two Christmases ago, and his hair is still dewy from his shower but styled in that cute messy way that he always has. And oh my God, does he smell like a dream.

“No, you don’t need to fake anything for me. I’m starving, and I could use some wine after today.”

“Same.” He rocks back on his heels. “So you want me to wait?” God, this is awkward, no thanks to the events in the pool from earlier.

“Yeah, just give me a second to change, and I’ll be right out.”

I move toward the closet where I hung up my clothes and choose a black peekaboo back, strapless romper that I know will pair well with my black heels. I wasn’t sure what the events were for this wedding week, so I chose outfits I could dress up or dress down. Based on what Ryot is wearing, I’m going to assume this is a dressing-up dinner.

I slip into my romper, tie it tightly behind my back, and then check myself in the mirror. Looks pretty decent. I’ve gained a few pounds since I last wore this, so I wasn’t sure if it would work or not, but it seems fine. I brush my hair out and slick it down into a low, tight bun at the nape of my neck, put on my gold Marin Knot earrings, and then do a five-minute face of makeup. My focus is on evening out my complexion and then tons of mascara to make my eyes pop.

I look in the mirror and smile. Not too bad for a few minutes to get ready. I slip on my strappy black heels, and I’m about to head out into the bedroom where Ryot is waiting when I consider Nichole’s question. Is she right? Did I only love Chicago because of being with Ryot? Because if that’s the case, then it would suggest that I’m happiest when I’m with him. Wherever we are, as long as it’s together. But I hate California. Do I? Or do I simply hate what it represents? Now isn’t the time to dive into this, but her question was a valid one, and something I need to give more consideration. I hated feeling unheard, invalidated, and irrelevant. Ryot’s choices were selfish. But am I wanting to flee the man I love or flee the feelings of inadequacy and unworthiness that his decisions triggered?