Continuation 2

Hey," Brody says, kissing Skye and me both on top of our heads. "Sorry I've been so busy."

"Used to it," Skye says with an unmistakable tone. I know Brody works long hours, especially since Rhett is no longer his partner, and I can tell it's wearing on her.

"Let's not do this in front of my sister," he says.

"Hire someone," she says.

Brody mouths sorry to me. "You should get some help," I tell him. "Skye's right. Rhett's gone. Guess we both need to accept it."

He taps my nose. "You always were the smart one."I dart my eyes to Skye. My stupid ass brother needs to fix this. We can't lose someone else we love. He bends down in front of her, but she doesn't look at him.

"Ten years to get married," Skye whimpers. "And our wedding was . . ."

She glances up at me, not able to say it. There's a lot we don't say. We all know what happened. No use reliving it.

"I'm not getting any younger, Brody," she says. "We said we'd have kids right away."

"Do we have to do this here?" he asks, trying to keep his voice soft.

Skye and my brother have been together over a decade, and I've never seen them like this. They had one brief breakup years ago, but I don't even know what caused it. All couples argue, but usually not in public, in front of family, so openly. I guess that's how you know when things are really bad. You don't care who sees, the mask has already fallen.

"No," she says, getting to her feet. "I'm sure you have more important things to do."

"Skye!" he begs, but she just walks off.

I shove his arm. "Chase her."

"She wants to be alone."

"No," I say, pushing him again. "She wants to feel like she's first."

He stares at me for a second before realizing I'm a genius. He calls her name, hurrying through the crowd. Watching his pursuit, I smile when I see him wipe a tear from her cheek, praying he doesn't say or do anything else stupid. I see Skye nod and smile back. I'm not naive enough to believe that whatever is going on between them is now fixed, but nothing ever gets fixed if one person walks away. I should know that better than anyone.

Maybe I should get a dog. Looking around, all these pet owners seem happy. There are all kinds of studies about dog owners living longer. I wander here to there, searching the sea of fur. It's kind of like searching for the right man. Too tall, too short, too round, too loud, too hairy, bad breath, bad teeth. At least dogs are loyal and love unconditionally. Of course, some of them bite, but men have been known to do that, too. It's been forever since a man nibbled any part of me.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. Rhett's parents both smile at me. Panic sets in, and my eyes immediately search for pale blue ones.

"Is Rhett here?" I ask, my voice sounding more hopeful than it should.

"No," Diane says. "We thought you knew, he's living in . . ."