Chapter 89

Cecilia

"Clothes. Shoes. The usual."

"The usual?" he repeated, and there was something in his voice now—curiosity mixed with something darker, more interested. "So can I see?"

I thought about the contents of the lingerie boutique bag, about Alice's insistence that I get the black lace set and the green one and the red one, and felt my face heat.

"Maybe later," I said, trying to sound casual.

"You're blushing."

"I am not—"

"You absolutely are." He reached for the bags, and I tried to pull them away, but he was faster and stronger and deeply unfair. "Let me see."

"Arthur, don't—"

He'd already opened the first bag—the one from the boutique with the dress—and was pulling out the emerald green fabric with an expression of approval. "This is nice. You'll look beautiful in this."

"Thank you," I said, trying to subtly move the other bag behind me.

But Arthur had already noticed. His gaze dropped to where I was attempting to hide it, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"What's in that one?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

"Nothing important."

"Show me."

"Arthur—"

"Cecilia." He took a step closer, and I took a step back, clutching the bag to my chest. "Show me what you bought, or I'm going to assume it's something very interesting."

"It's just—it's practical things. Basics. Very boring."

"Then you won't mind showing me."

We stared at each other for a long moment, and I could see the exact instant he decided to just take the bag from me. I tried to dodge, but Arthur easily countered me, and then he had it, and I was left standing there with my face on fire while he looked inside.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Arthur pulled out the black lace set—the one Alice had insisted I try on first—and held it up with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"Basics," he said finally, his voice strangled. "Very boring basics."

"Alice made me buy it," I said quickly. "I didn't—I mean, I was going to, but she was very insistent—"

"Remind me to send Alice a very generous gift." He was still staring at the lingerie.

I couldn't help it—I laughed. "You're being dramatic."

I laughed and pulled him toward the couch, ready to tell him about running into our mothers but I didn't know where to start.

He set it aside without protest when he saw my expression shift.

"Talk," he said simply.

"We ran into someone at the mall today." I tucked my feet underneath me, wincing slightly when my leg protested. "Two someones, actually."

"Who?"

"Your mother." I watched his face. "And mine."

Arthur went very still. "Together?"

"Arm in arm. Like they'd known each other for years." I paused, letting that land. "They met this morning by chance."

Arthur didn't say anything for a moment. He was looking at the middle distance with that expression he got when he was running through calculations, weighing information against what he already knew.

"Arthur." I nudged his knee with mine. "Say something."

He looked at me, and something in his expression made my stomach drop. "They weren't meeting for the first time today."

"No, I mean—" He stopped, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Ceci, our mothers have known each other for a long time. Years. They knew each other before you and I did."

I stared at him. "What?"

"When your father and I were close, our families were connected. My mother and your mother would have crossed paths constantly—dinner parties, charity events, the kind of social overlap that happens at that level." He paused. "You were young. You wouldn't have been at most of those things."

I sat back, trying to process that. "But today they both pretended to be strangers." The words came out flat, and I felt something cold settle in my chest.

Arthur didn't try to soften it. "Yes."

"Why?" I asked, and even as I said it, I already didn't like the answer forming in my head. "Why would they do that?"

"I don't know yet." He reached over and took my hand, his thumb moving in slow circles across my knuckles. "But I don't think it's nothing. Two women who've known each other for years, running into you together and pretending to be strangers—that's deliberate. That's a choice someone made."

"Both of them made," I corrected.

"Both of them," he agreed.

I thought about my mother's smile when she'd seen the engagement ring—that flash of calculation disguised as delight. I thought about Irene's cool, assessing gaze, the way she'd said please give Arthur my regards like she was delivering a message rather than making conversation.

"You think they're planning something," I said.

"I think we should pay attention." He squeezed my hand.

" And your mother—" He paused. "I don't know her well enough to predict her, but I know she didn't come back to this city just to reconnect with you."

That hurt more than it should have.

My phone buzzed on the cushion beside me. I picked it up, glanced at the screen, and felt the cold in my chest spread.

Darling, I'm so glad we ran into each other today. I was thinking—I'd love to come visit you tomorrow. Let me know if that works. Love, Mom.

I turned the phone so Arthur could read it. He did, his expression not changing, and then he looked up at me.

"Well," I said. "That was fast."

"She said just the two of us." I set the phone down, resisting the urge to throw it across the room. "She specifically said just the two of us."

"I noticed." There was something in his tone now. "She can want whatever she likes. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll be in the next room if you need privacy with her," he said, and his voice was firm without being aggressive.

The thought of sitting across from my mother alone, trying to figure out what she was really after while simultaneously pretending I didn't know she'd been conspiring with Irene Winston—that sounded exhausting and more than a little frightening. I need Arthur.

"Okay," I said.

"Don't worry about it tonight." He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. "We'll deal with tomorrow when it comes. Right now you've had a long day and your leg's been bothering you since we got home—don't think I haven't noticed."

He stood, pulling me up with him. "Come on. I'll run you a bath and you can tell me about the rest of your day. The parts that didn't involve our mothers apparently forming some kind of alliance."

I went, because sometimes the best thing you can do is let someone take care of you, and because tomorrow would come whether I worried about it tonight or not.