Page 101 of The Honest Affair

“Matthew, wait, I—”

“No,” I said sharply, glaring over her shoulder at my family members, who all wore matching expressions of disdain and worry. “I brought you here to see my family, but all that showed up were a pack of feral cats. You don’t need to put up with this, baby. And neither do I.”

“But, Matthew,” Nina protested gently. “They’re your family. You have to—”

“No,” I interrupted stubbornly. “I don’t.”

“Mattie?”

The voice behind me, plus the five identical expressions of shock and disgust facing me meant this was really, really not my day.

Because I knew the owner of that voice. That tone. I hadn’t heard it in close to ten years, nor had I wanted to. But some things you never forget.

Instead of closing my eyes and acting like I hadn’t heard, I put my hat back on and turned to face the proverbial music.

“Ah, hey, Sherry,” I said. “Long time.”

Nina’s fingers around my hand tightened. Yeah, she recognized that name.

It was one of those moments where time felt really, really heavy. When you reach your late thirties, some people haven’t changed at all. And others have aged a lot.

Sherry was the former. She was thirty-four now, but time had been kind to my ex-girlfriend, who was still petite, dark-haired and dark-eyed. She had a body shaped like a Coke bottle and a come-hither smile that once made her the object of both boys’ and men’s fantasies for about a twenty-block radius, and made me the envy of most of my friends, even after I left for Iraq.

Once, she’d broken my heart; fuckin’ smashed it all over this neighborhood. Right now, though, I was wondering what the hell I’d ever seen in her compared to the woman next to me.

Sherry didn’t seem to pick up on that vibe, though. Instead, her mouth curved to one side with the knowledge of a woman who knew she could wrap most men around her finger without even trying.

“I see you still like those old-fashioned hats,” she said. “Some things never change, huh?”

Sherry winked. Nina’s hand gripped mine so hard I thought she might break it clean off.

“I thought you moved out to Jersey,” I said. “You got married, right?”

She nodded. “I did, yeah. But, um, it didn’t work out. I’m back home for a bit now.” She gestured with pink-tipped fingernails toward a couple I recognized as her parents, who were chatting up Father Deflorio near the exit.

“Who’s this?” she asked, nodding toward Nina, who had dropped my hand and was standing quietly as she removed her gloves. “Your girlfriend?” The last word dripped with disdain.

“Hello,” Nina said loud enough that everyone could hear her. “It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Nina de Vries.”

She offered a handshake, and when Sherry took it, Nina closed her left hand over both of theirs, as if to give an extra grip. But no one paid attention to that. Not when we were practically blinded by a flash when a stream of light caught on a diamond that was no longer hanging from her neck, but in its rightful place on her ring finger.

Sherry’s mouth dropped as Nina pulled back her hands. “Is that—is that your grandmother’s ring?”

I pressed my lips together, trying and failing to hold back a giant fuckin’ grin. Suddenly, I felt giddy. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Nina confirmed. “I’m his fiancée.”

“What?” Sherry blinked furiously as she glanced between Nina and me. “I—you’re—”

“Engaged,” Nina said. “That’s correct.”

Sherry frowned. “I was talking to Matthew, actually. Not you. It’s been a long time. We have some things to resolve, fiancée or not.”

I frowned. “Sherry, we don’t need to do this. It’s fine. Really. I’m over it. I moved on a long time ago.”

“Maybe you’re fine, Matthew, but I’m not.”

Nina took a subtle step forward. It was a small movement, but it put her squarely between Sherry and me, and I watched in surprise as my generally calm, reserved heiress became every bit the lioness as the women standing behind us.

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