The extended 'if' hung between them before the author pushed a finger into the woman's forehead.
"...Your wedding planner has to handle something behind your back without your personal oversight."
That blunt line got a genuine laugh, a bit less manic than before. Leana's hands finally slowed their constant anxious motions. Being called out so hard made her realize she was doing it.
"Now, food first. Then… you can tell me all about how you're going to make my ex-girlfriend catch your bouquet or something."
"I would never be so obvious~"
Leana protested merrily. Her grin was as much her usual mischief as it was that overcaffeinated twitch. Nonetheless, Renée believed her completely. She sensed *that* prize was slated for another in the wedding party.
[Meddlesome.]
"Sure."
"Seriously. I have much subtler plans. Carmen's actually helping me with one."
"Of course she is."
Renée shook her head fondly while tugging her forward.
"Just remember that they'll work better if you're not passing out in the middle of them."
They headed toward the resort's main cafeteria. Leana launched into a detailed description of all the small "adjustments" she'd suggested to Carmen's welcome dinner setup for this evening when Marcus and his group arrived.
Renée listened politely. The occasional comment was offered but mostly she carefully watched her old friend's self-induced stress levels. It might not be her 'place', but she wasn't above finding and talking to this 'Carmen' about supporting such a bride a little better.
The writer had always spoken pretty freely in the moment towards other people, as long as it was not about her hidden mental problems. But as someone who had dealt with how not eating properly could lead to hospitalization? She was willing to pressure the wedding planner with the outline of her anecdotal story.
[Some things never change. Some things change just enough to matter.]
⛌-⛌-⛌
Ayla was halfway through composing a work email when she saw them. Renée's hand on the wedding planner's elbow, guiding her with that gentle authority that made other women just... follow. She took note of the way Carmen glanced up at her, already yielding to that confidence...
She forced her eyes back to her phone, but the words blurred until the screen's timer dimmed its light.
[This isn't your business anymore.]
When she looked up again, they were disappearing into one of the staff rooms. Renée's hand had shifted to the small of Carmen's back while guiding her inside - that once familiar, assured touch being used on this new woman.
The door clicked shut behind them.
She somehow managed to focus on work again for exactly eight minutes before Carmen emerged. The planner's usually pristine collar looked to be askew. Her entire professional demeanor somewhat... ruffled.
She even touched her neck absently as she hurried past, hardly even noticing Ayla in the lobby. Renée then appeared a few minutes later, looking exactly as composed as she had been on the ferry. After the two of them had… embraced.
[Not a hair out of place, that new haircut is still damned perfect.]
Like nothing had even happened inside there at all.
But Ayla was not as sure as she wished she was.
⛌-⛌-⛌
The welcome dinner was an exercise in unwanted memories. Unwanted resonance of feelings. Carmen kept stealing glances at Renée from across the room. That slightly dazed look of someone who'd just discovered a presence that could fill a room.
The way the planner's hands trembled when passing nearby her table. The little smile and flush that rose in her cheeks whenever Renée spoke among the group.
[Just like back then. When she started pulling away and every woman who mentioned her name made me wonder if they knew why. If they understood better than I did.]
Ayla thought due to watching Carmen's flustered reactions. She knew better now, of course. Renée hadn't left her for anyone else - hadn't been that kind of person.
Even with her history of casual encounters before they dated, that had planted unfortunate seeds of doubt, she would not stray. Being so open about admitting to that behavior in high school had been *trust*. The withdrawal in their relationship had been about something else entirely.
Something she wasn't *supposed* to know.
But watching the wedding planner's little glances still felt like reopening an old wound. It still felt like someone was coveting her lover. Even though they had been unable to be titled that without the 'ex' for longer now than they had ever been together.
"The arrangements look lovely."
Ayla managed to compliment when the woman stopped to check on their table. Her voice was perfectly steady. It betrayed nothing of her fraying opinion. Only the grip on her wine glass was out of kilter.
"Oh! Yes, thank you."
Carmen's hand went to her collar again, adjusting nothing. Probably just a nervous habit. Her eyes drifted over to where Renée sat with Leana. Probably looking at her boss.
"Everything turned out... perfect."
The last word came out breathy and the lawyer simply couldn't defend it with that fraction of disbelief. Ayla took a long sip of wine, remembering how many times she'd watched other women with their preferences react to Renée this way.
Even during their relationship, it had been like this. Once a source of pride before it became a source of fear. A proof of her immaturity.
That thought that Renée would be cheating because of her growing distance had been ridiculous, she understood in hindsight. Now, even with that context in mind she could still be that same 'young girl'.
But this time it was that these women somehow saw parts of Renée that Ayla was missing. There was a good chance that a person existed out there that fit her better. Could have understood her better. That wouldn't have been evaded, broken up with, or-
"Excuse me."
She said abruptly to her tablemates while standing in a hurry.
"I need to review some documents before tomorrow. Have a good evening."
She didn't look toward Renée as she left. Didn't want to see if those green-hazel eyes followed her or not. Didn't want to remember how it felt when that intense focus in her eyes had been on hers alone, before the circumstances wedged them apart.
The little elevator couldn't come fast enough, no matter how many times she reached out and pressed it.
Once in her room, the dark haired woman stood at the window overlooking the resort grounds. She could see signs of the dinner party continuing below. Warm lights spilled onto the terrace and shadows danced as people moved in and out in front of them.
Her phone buzzed with another work email, but she ignored it this time
[You're being ridiculous. Whatever happened back then, whatever's happening now - it's not your concern anymore. You can't have what you want… if she doesn't want you.]
Her hand still shook from the firm self-talk as she reached for the room's 'complimentary' water bottle. She couldn't quite convince herself the tremor was from the small bit of wine she actually drank.