“Are you sure about that? You didn’t tell me you were having problems.”

Brianne rolled her eyes, gulping down her wine. “I didn’t even know we were having problems, Mom. Remember? I told you that.”

“I’m not sure I believe you. I’ve been wanting to call his mother, but I don’t know if I can bear speaking to her right now.”

Brianne rolled her eyes again, getting up to pour herself another glass of wine. It was going to be one of those nights.

“Mom, you’re not the one he left. I am. Besides, Janice didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Are you sure? That woman has always had too high an opinion of herself. I always wondered if she’d think anyone was good enough for her son. Ironic, seeing as she came from nothing.”

This again. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were a snob,” Brianne commented, her jaw tight. What did it matter who his parents were? Besides, they had more money than the Whitcombs ever had.

“You know me, Brianne. I’m the least snobby of anyone I know.”

That was the truth—some of the women Kathleen spent time with were insufferable.

“If it makes you feel better, call Janice,” Brianne said. “You can make sure she knows how miserable her son has made you.”

“What about you?” her mother asked.

“I’m too busy to worry about him, Mom. I have a lot on my plate right now.”

She heard a sigh on the other end of the line. “To think. You could be married right now.”

“Maybe I dodged a bullet. You never know.” It was as though Eric had left her mother instead of her.

“Brianne, sweetie, you know I’ve always adored your sense of humor, but it’s not doing much for me right now. I only care about your happiness, and you act as though this is a big joke. Everywhere I go, people look at me as though I had a death in the family.”

“Mom, I’m sorry. I am. I really have to go, though.” There was no way she could deal with this. A constant reminder of how she’d messed up. “I’ll call you later.” She hung up before her mother had the chance to reply.

She emptied her wine glass, sitting back with a sigh. If Eric was in front of her, she would wring his neck.

It wasn’t that she was unhappy to not be married. She was still secretly relieved that he’d run. If only everybody would leave her alone about it.

The idea of moving to Chicago was still appealing. No matter how bad the winters were.

The doorbell rang. “Oh, terrific,” she muttered. Maybe Mom had been sitting outside the building when she called.

But it wasn’t Kathleen Whitcomb. It was Gabe.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, feeling exposed all of a sudden. Why should she? It was her place. He was the one who should feel uncomfortable.

“Hi to you, too.”

“Don’t play cute,” she said, narrowing her eyes. It had to be the wine. She was feeling feistier than usual.

He smiled. That only irritated her more.

“Sorry. I just had to see you.”

“For what? Feeling a little horny? Wanna go to bed, then have second thoughts later on?”

“Ouch.” He sighed. “I actually came over to see if you need any help getting things together for your event,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Oh.” She looked at the floor. “I thought when I was redirected to an assistant earlier today that you weren’t interested in helping me anymore.”

“That’s not the case at all, Brianne. I was at the gym, and wanted to be sure you were taken care of when I wasn’t around the office.”