Vivian saw Elise again two months later.
They met at a café neither had visited before.
There were no flowers, no ring boxes, and nobody waiting to announce anything.
Elise ordered tea.
Vivian ordered coffee.
For a while, they talked about work and ordinary inconveniences. A broken elevator. An impossible parking space. A neighbor who practiced guitar after midnight.
It was a relief to discover they could exist in the same conversation without Cole occupying every sentence.
Eventually, Elise asked, “Do you still think about the party?”
“Sometimes.”
“The slap?”
Vivian nodded.
“I wish I’d kept my hands down.”
“I wish I’d asked more questions.”
Vivian turned her cup between her palms.
“He lied when you did ask.”
Elise looked at her.
“You’re allowed to say that to yourself too.”
Vivian smiled faintly.
She was still learning.
They were not suddenly best friends. There was too much strangeness in how they had met, too much private hurt attached to the same person.
But they had treated each other fairly when Cole had expected them to become enemies.
That mattered.
Before leaving, Elise took a small envelope from her bag.
Inside was a photograph Morgan had taken before the proposal. Vivian appeared in the background near the doorway, still beside Rachel, before she noticed the ring.
She was smiling.
“Morgan thought you might want it,” Elise said. “A picture from that night that isn’t about what happened.”
Vivian studied it.
Her emerald dress looked beautiful.
She had forgotten that.
