I returned our home while he toured with her novel Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kyler came back. He hauled his suitcase inside, pulled a small paper bag from the side

pocket, and handed it to me. “Your fridge magnet.”

Then he took a bigger bag out of another pocket and set it in the entryway.

“What’s that?”

“For Seraphina. A scarf. She said the patterns in Tokyo were nicer.”

The edge of the scarf peeked out, deep red, cashmere. I touched it. So soft.

Last winter I told him I wanted a cashmere scarf. He said, “Why buy a scarf? Don’t

already have a bunch in your closet?”

Those scarves in my closet? I bought every single one.

“You brought her a scarf?”

“She asked me to. It was no trouble.”

you

He swapped his shoes, walked into the living room, and dropped onto the couch. “I’m

wrecked. That flight was brutal.”

“When are you taking me to Japan?”

He blinked. “Why bring that up all of a sudden?”

“It’s not sudden. I’ve been asking for five years.”

“Let’s get through this busy stretch first. Next time.”

Next time. The seventeenth “next time.”

I didn’t say anything else.

Before dinner, his mom Darlene Reed called. “Wren, is Kyler back?”

“Yes, Mrs. Reed.”

“You two need to lock down the wedding plans. I’m already pushing the invitations.”

“We’re still prepping.”

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“Seraphina stopped by last week and helped me pick the wedding candy favors. She

chose four flavors. See if any of them work for you.”

My fork stopped mid-air. “Seraphina helped you pick them?”

“She did. She said you must be swamped with work, so she offered. Isn’t that sweet?”

I glanced at Kyler. He was scrolling through his phone, head down.

“Mrs. Reed, you can just tell me about this kind of thing. No need to bother her.”

“Bother her? Please. She’s here all the time. Three or four times a month, way more than

you ever show up.”

In our second year, I offered to visit her every week. Kyler said, “No need to go that often. My mom doesn’t like too much fuss.” So I cut it to once a month. Later he said, “You’re busy. Every two months is fine.”

Turns out it wasn’t that his mom didn’t like visitors. She just didn’t like me.

Seraphina showed up three or four times a month, and nobody minded.

“Mrs. Reed, I’ll handle the wedding candy.”

“Fine. But those flavors Seraphina picked are really nice. Take a look.”

I hung up and turned to Kyler. “You let Seraphina go to your mom’s to help pick wedding

candy?”

“She wanted to.”

“You knew?”

“Yeah, my mom told me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What’s the big deal? She was just helping out.”

“It’s our wedding. Why does she need to help?”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“When did I ever say I was busy?”

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He frowned. “You’re always working late. I figured you had no time.”

“Did you even ask me?”

“Fine, fine. From now on, you handle this stuff yourself. Happy?” His voice had that edge.

Every time. First, “Don’t overthink it.” Then, “What’s the big deal?” Finally, “Fine, you’re right.” Nothing ever got solved.

My phone pinged again. His mom sent a photo. Seraphina stood in her kitchen, wearing an apron, holding a plate of meatloaf, smiling sweetly. Caption: [Seraphina made my meatloaf recipe. Tastes just like mine.]

Seraphina was more at home in that kitchen than I’d ever been. She knew where the bowls were, which drawer held the spices, what Mrs. Reed liked to eat.

In five years, I still had to ask every time. Because I was there so rarely. Because Kyler

said I didn’t need to go often.

Another buzz. Second message from Darlene. [Wren, I’m just gonna be straight with you. I’ve known Sera since she was a kid. Those two, they get each other. You’re sweet, honey, but you’re not exactly the nurturing type. Maybe watch how Sera does things.]

I flipped my phone facedown on the table.

Kyler pushed the bedroom door open. “Why’d you stop eating?”

“Not hungry.”

He walked to the closet for his pajamas. I saw a red velvet box peeking from his suit

pocket.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, this. Birthday gift for Seraphina. A necklace.”

He opened it. A thin silver chain with a tiny cherry blossom charm. Engraved into the

petal was a single letter. K. His K.

“Custom-made. Took two months.”

Our engagement ring? He bought it online. When it arrived, he tore open the package and slid it onto my finger. I said I wanted to pick one out in a store. He said, “A ring’s a ring. No

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