She was watching him. Maybe it made her a creep. Maybe it made her the worst purveyor of mixed messages to ever mix a message, but Gillian couldn't deny that she was watching Vic as he went through all of the motions of his job. Everyone he talked to, it was with an easy smile. Time after time, he coaxed their joy in the day to shine in their faces as he captured the wedding guests. Even the kids were perfect for him, posing as directed. Rachel had told her that, between the photo session before Cassandra's birth and the kayaking party, Andres and Hannah were completely comfortable with Vic.
“They act like he's part of the family,” she said, and she wasn't even trying to be pointed about it. Just her normal maternal self. So it wasn't like she could be grumpy about the observation.
She couldn't figure out—what she told herself she shouldn't even try to figure out—was how real was his smile? Was he just acting the part of geniality, or did he really feel as relaxed in this company as he seemed? Was his growing closeness with her friends’ husbands surviving the tension between her and him? Or had she destroyed that, too, when she called him out for the way he clung to her family and not to her, specifically?
She tried to stop staring at his sunshine face. Tried to stop being aware of the way he circulated in the room. But she wasn't having much luck.
Serena plopped down beside her. “What did you think of the ceremony?”
Gill’s face softened. “It was perfect, wasn't it?”
“Even when Goldberg's ducks waddled down the aisle eating all the flowers Hannah had scattered?”
She laughed. “That was the most perfect part. That, and when they all huddled together for a family hug after the ‘I do’s.”
“Yeah, that kind of got to me, too.”
“You really did turn into a sucker for love, didn't you, Serena?”
“Fuck, yeah. Plus, what's fun about marriage is all the sex, and how he makes me breakfast. I never knew a morning person could also be such a late night guy.”
“Oh my god, stop bragging about all your orgasms.”
“I can't help it. They rock.”
“Brat.”
“So ….” Serena said, pasting on innocence as she toyed with salad.
“So what?”
“So, made any life-altering decisions in the past couple hours?”
“You're the worst.”
“But you love me.”
“Clearly.”
“And you're going to spill, right?”
She rubbed her forehead. “What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing special. Just, like, ‘hey, it turns out that when you hired Vic to take your wedding photos, it was the best day of my life.’ ” Serena reached over and snagged all the bell peppers Gillian had shoved to one side of her plate. Not because Gillian disliked them, but because Serena adored them and she knew handing them over was inevitable.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“And about the rest?”
Gillian wanted to look around for an escape from the conversation, but doing so would mean catching Vic’s eye. She knew because, even without actively watching him, she could tell he'd drawn closer to the head table. “It's not like I've had a ton of time to think about it.”
“And yet.” Serena’s sarcasm lost her a couple of pepper slices.
Plus, crunching into the vegetable allowed her to delay her response for a precious few seconds.
“Come on. You can't deny that you're the one with the quick-thinking brain. I know you have thoughts.”
“Well, you're Ms. Intuitive over here. I bet you can read my thoughts without me having to say them.”
Serena snorted. “Do you think if you don't say them, they're not true? Do you think you can just pretend you have the healthiest emotional life of anybody in the Houston-Galveston-Fort Bend Metroplex?”
“Ha ha.” Gillian pretended she wasn’t grateful for the lifeline of her friend’s banter while she mulled over what to say to Vic.
“Just asking. Anyway, you get your reprieve. Here comes the man himself, and it's almost time for your maid of honor speech.”
Gillian growled just loud enough for Serena to hear her, and plastered on an expression she hoped suggested that Serena was laughing at something besides her personal distress. She, Natalie, and Serena raised their glasses together in a toast while Vic lined up a shot of them.
Once he lowered the lens, she caught and held his eye. Serena was right. She didn't have to articulate a thing to understand what she needed to do next. And she could only hope that the glint in his eye meant he understood that she would seek him out later for a further conversation.
And for the apology she owed him.
There was something in her expression. He wasn't imagining it. He was a skilled and sought after portrait photographer who understood how to read faces. So he knew when there was something in her expression. Thanks to that whole skilled professional thing. He didn't have more than a few minutes to seek her out during Theo and Rachel's wedding reception. And thanks to the fact that she had goddamn hurt him by running away when he confessed his love, he wasn't exactly making a point of putting himself in her way.
He had to hightail it from Brenham to Houston after the reception so he could organize himself. He was meeting clients at the airport first thing Sunday to head out for a week-long destination gig.
In the dark of the next Saturday night, he pulled into his garage and dropped his head to the steering wheel. Felt like the first time he'd stopped moving in days—months, even. Not that staying busy on Islamorada had been a problem. Earlier in the summer, he’d thought maybe he could get Gillian to join him in Florida. He'd ended up relishing the chance to be somewhere where nothing reminded him of her. Now he had to head inside his house, past the table where she'd sat and pretended there was nothing odd about how she never come up with schemes to see him.
He could go in and sleep on his old bedroom, under the quilt his parents had made to commemorate their twenty-fifth anniversary. But all those uneven hand stitches and fabrics commemorating their devotion to each other didn't feel like they'd be any more comforting than laying in the bed where she'd pretended they had nothing to discuss. Pretended sex could smooth over any of his disquiet.
Still, it was better than going to Ton’s and sleeping there, knowing she was just on the other side of the wall.
He went for the next best thing. Texted his best friend: you around?
Ton: Yeah, for another few days. Why?
Vic: Just got back into town Thought you might want to bring me a pizza
He didn’t have to wait long for Anton's reply. One thing about the Bellamys: they were quick-witted and and on the ball.
Ton: Spinach and chicken or bacon and peppers?
He relaxed enough to blow the air out of his tight chest. This was good. This was what he needed.
Vic: bacon
Ton: Bacon. Got it. See you in 47 minutes.
He responded with the twins emoji, which said everything he needed Anton to know.