Good for You: A Novel (53)

Wyatt’s frown deepened. “I said I was sorry about the life insurance.”

“That’s not what I was talking about. I honestly don’t care about that.” Why was this starting to feel like an argument?

“I don’t know how you couldn’t care a little. And for the record, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner.” He reached out and touched her elbow. “Are we okay?”

“Of course,” she said.

But she couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling that had come over her—not during dinner, and not even when he took her in his arms that night and carried her to bed.

Wyatt was definitely keeping something from her. And although she was leaving soon—she was—Aly couldn’t help but worry that her reluctance to press him for details meant she was already in too deep.





TWENTY-SIX


Aly tossed and turned that night, but sleep wouldn’t come. She kept thinking about Luke and his final moments.

She’d already gone over his last day dozens, maybe even hundreds, of times in her mind. A few days before he went to Florida, he tried to talk her into going to the Keys with him and Wyatt. After she’d regretfully but firmly refused, he’d flown out to New York and surprised her, even though his Florida trip was just days away. She’d been flustered at first—All Good had made a last-minute decision to combine the December and January issues to adjust for the low advertising revenue, and she’d been working around the clock to get the magazine shipped on time. But her brother was the one thing Aly was willing to set work aside for. Besides, Meagan owed her for the many occasions Aly had covered for her while she was traveling or not feeling well or out of the office for reasons she chose not to elaborate on. Though Meagan had made it obvious that she wasn’t thrilled about the last-minute request, Aly made it equally obvious that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was arguably the only time that she’d deserved Meagan’s ire—and yet Meagan had bitten her tongue and done what Aly had asked. At the time, Aly had foolishly assumed it was because she was her friend.

“I just wanted to see you,” Luke had explained when she’d asked about his unannounced visit. They were out to eat at an elegant yet homey Italian restaurant she’d never heard of, even though it was just five blocks from her office. In typical Luke fashion, he’d texted an old friend for a recommendation, then somehow managed to snag the last reservation available. “Can’t your brother surprise you from time to time?”

“It’s not like you, is all,” she said before taking a bite of the buttery burrata and tomato appetizer he’d ordered. He’d encouraged her to eat up, but she remembered thinking that he was the one who looked like he needed a steak and a big bowl of pasta. He claimed he’d never been happier. But if that was true, why did he seem so worn out?

“Maybe stepping out of the rat race has changed me,” he said. “By the way, I splurged on a suite at The Plaza. Why don’t you stay over?” he said. “It’s honestly too swanky for me to deal with on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have you ever known me to say what I don’t mean?”

She hadn’t, and so she’d agreed, even though Seth made a snide comment about how it was kind of weird that she was staying over with her brother when their apartment was barely a mile away. “You’re weird to say that,” she’d shot back at him—not because she believed it, but because she hated the idea that Seth thought something was wrong with her. “He’s only here for twenty-four hours, and I want to take advantage of it.”

The Plaza was the kind of hotel she’d imagined as a child, one where a fun-loving nanny would chase her around and where parents were always blessedly off somewhere else, unconcerned whether their free-spirited child might, say, flood the bathroom or even the whole hotel while taking a bath. It wasn’t really Luke’s style, but couldn’t a person try new things? And even if he had chosen it because he thought she’d like it (as she suspected he had), she was still going to appreciate the crap out of it.

As she and Luke sat side by side in the cushy king-sized bed, eating the ridiculously overpriced ice cream sundaes that room service had delivered and watching It’s a Wonderful Life (even though Christmas was still several months away, it had always been their favorite), Aly had thought to herself: It doesn’t get better than this.

Looking back, she was glad she hadn’t known how true that would turn out to be.

Before Luke had left town the next day, he’d given her the keys to his beach house, as well as his word that everything would be taken care of. At the time, she’d thought he was just being himself—conscientious, generous, forward-thinking.

Now she wondered if there had been more to it. Had her brother intuited—the way she’d heard that some people just did—that he would die the very next week?

Was that what Wyatt was trying to hide from her?

She shivered, even though Wyatt, asleep beside her in bed, was practically a space heater.

No. Luke would never have willingly gotten in that sailboat if he’d known it would mean leaving her behind.

She had to believe that.

Because the alternative was that her brother had not loved her enough to stay.





TWENTY-SEVEN