“That weekend in Chicago—I knew my limits, and I ignored them. I don’t know how much Griffin’s told you, but I had an aneurysm at nineteen.” Maggie let out a bitter laugh. “I had a great surgeon. Saved my life, but I’m not…the same.”

“Oh, Maggie,” Jordan said. “No, I didn’t know. I mean, I knew something was up that weekend, but I had no idea…”

Maggie had never asked Griffin not to say anything, but at the same time her heart swelled to know he hadn’t, that he’d left it as her story to tell, if she wanted to.

“It’s okay,” Maggie said, even though her voice shook a little on those words. Going back over what happened was never easy because it always brought that fear of what if it happens again to the surface. “I’m not the same,” she continued. “But I’m getting better. I’m learning to be okay with what I can’t change. But that weekend? Griffin didn’t know the history—why I got the headaches and couldn’t drink like most college students did. I didn’t want him to think I was different or fragile or someone he needed to take care of, so I was reckless because I was scared.” But Maggie wasn’t on the blood thinners anymore. And yes, the migraines were still a regular part of her life, but she’d had three years to read her body’s signals and anticipate her triggers—though they still snuck up on her from time to time. She couldn’t control everything. A drink every now and then? She could do that. She’d stayed hydrated on the flight. She’d slept. And aside from letting her worry get the best of her today, she felt great.

Miles wasn’t here, Griffin wasn’t here, and she was in a strange place all by herself—and she felt great.

“Oh my God,” Maggie said and started giggling. Then laughing. And she hadn’t even had the shot yet. “I’m okay.”

She picked up another shot and handed it to the still-confused Jordan.

“All day I’ve been worried not just about this wedding and whether or not it would happen,” she started, “but about Griffin and me—waiting for the other shoe to drop when I don’t even think the first one ever did, you know?”

She expected Jordan to maintain that bug-eyed expression, to think her as crazy as she probably sounded, but instead she nodded.

“Holy shit,” Jordan said. “It’s like you just explained my mental state for the past two years, let alone today. Can I say again how sorry I am we didn’t connect this afternoon before you came to my door?”

It didn’t matter now. Maggie knew that no matter what happened from here on out, she’d be okay. She’d planned on this trip being an upset to her carefully laid out routine. She hadn’t anticipated losing Griffin and Miles for the day, and that had thrown her for a loop. But she was still standing…with a full shot of ouzo in her hand, and dammit if she wasn’t doing just fine.

“What are you two pussy lightweights waiting for?”

Elaina was next to them now, shot in hand. She was exquisite in an ice-blue toga-style gown with her black hair pulled back in an elegant bun with a few escaping tendrils framing her face.

“You’re gorgeous,” Maggie said, and Elaina rolled her eyes.

“I know it is cliché to wear something that looks like it came from Aphrodite’s closet, but I have fantastic shoulders. Duncan needs to see exactly what he is giving up.” She eyed the two Americans still holding their shots. “Now yell fuck it or opa or something, and let’s get on with it.”

“Do I slam my shot glass on the ground when I’m done?” Jordan asked, and Maggie wasn’t sure if she was messing with Elaina or if it was in earnest.

“Oooopa! Fuck it!” Elaina yelled, loud enough to turn heads, and she threw back the shot, then placed the empty glass back on the table.

Jordan shrugged and looked at Maggie. “I guess we don’t shatter the glass.”

“Opa!” Maggie yelled.

“Fuck it!” Jordan added.

And the two girls drank in unison, following Elaina’s lead by salvaging the glasses.

Maggie’s throat burned, and her head swam. In the past year she’d had the occasional beer or glass of white wine, but ouzo was a far cry from a drink she sipped slowly over the course of an entire evening.

“Shit,” Maggie said, placing her hand on the corner of the table to steady her stance.

“Shit is right,” Jordan said, and then let out a small hiccup followed by a giggle.

“Fucking shit,” Elaina said, but her gaze moved past Maggie and Jordan to the room’s open doorway. In it stood three men, visibly weary with travel, one of them with a noticeable bruise on his cheek and his eye swollen half shut.

Griffin and Noah froze, waiting for Duncan to make the first move. When his eyes landed on Elaina, he took a small step back. A stagger, Maggie thought. And she knew Elaina had accomplished what she set out to do. If, in fact, Duncan had gotten cold feet, the way he looked at Elaina now spoke volumes. He knew what he was missing.

But as he barreled through the growing crowd of people, some of them surely his own family who tried to pull him aside, Maggie knew that stagger wasn’t out of realization for what he’d given up. It was for finally finding what he’d been looking for. Probably all day.

Elaina shook her head as he approached, but Maggie could hear her labored breathing. Both she and Jordan backed up against the window as Duncan wrapped his arms around Elaina’s waist and kissed her without uttering a word. For a moment Elaina remained rigid, unmoving, but Maggie watched as she relaxed into the kiss, and she and Jordan let out a collective sigh.

“Ladies,” Duncan said when he finally came up for air, bowing his head in greeting. “M-My apologies for being late.” His voice shook, and he stammered on his words, yet still he exuded that charm she remembered. There were a lot of things Maggie forgot, but you didn’t forget someone like Duncan McAllister. Despite whatever he’d been through today—and whatever hell Elaina was about to drag him through—Maggie couldn’t help but smile in his presence.

He kissed Jordan on the cheek. “Congratulations on the engagement,” he said, and Jordan gasped. Maggie received a kiss as well. “I bet you’re right proud of Griffin getting that job in Washington. I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a wedding to save.”

He turned back to Elaina, and Maggie could see the temporary spell of the kiss evaporate as Elaina’s eyes narrowed at her fiancé. Duncan opened his mouth to say something to her, but she stormed out the back door and onto the beach. Still carrying his messenger bag slung across his body, he didn’t hesitate before chasing after her, leaving Maggie and Jordan stunned in his wake.

Noah and Griffin made their way through the confused crowd until they stood in front of what looked like a delightedly silent Jordan and a horrified Maggie.

Here she thought she was being ridiculous, worrying when there was nothing she could place her finger on to worry about. Turns out she didn’t need to wait for the other shoe to drop. They were both dropping at the same damned time.

“What?” Noah asked. Jordan’s eyes were brimming with tears.

“Why…” Jordan hiccupped again, and Maggie remembered the ouzo. Maybe she misunderstood what Duncan said. Maybe it was just her low tolerance for liquor. “Why…” Jordan continued, “did Duncan just congratulate me on my engagement?”

“Jesus, Duncan,” Noah said, running a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen.”

“Shit,” Griffin mumbled under his breath. His eyes locked on Maggie’s, and she knew he wanted to say something, to answer the dread he must have seen in her eyes, but neither of them would interrupt Noah and Jordan’s unexpected moment.

“Brooks,” Noah said, his voice soft and low, but it didn’t matter. The room went silent as he dropped to one knee and fumbled in his bag until he produced a small velvet box.

Jordan hiccupped again, but this time it wasn’t the alcohol. It was a small sob, and Maggie’s gut twisted. Jordan and Noah’s lives were changing right in front of her, in the best possible way. And after she said yes—because of course she would—Griffin was going to confirm what Duncan spoiled for her, that Griffin was moving to Washington and leaving her behind. What the hell was in Washington? Did Duncan mean D.C.? God, was he taking a job somehow connected to his father’s political aspirations? How much did she not know about the man she lived with?