The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(91)

“Sorry, I . . . well, this is great.” Peyton tore off a bit of brownie, popped it in her mouth, and chased it down with a sip of milk. They continued nibbling their brownies during the textbook definition of awkward silence.

“Do you want to make the guest list and hire the caterer, and I’ll handle music?” Peyton finally asked. “Logan can be our photographer.”

At the mention of his name, Claire shoved the rest of the brownie in her mouth. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t help it. His absence this past week had felt more like he’d been gone a full month. After gulping down her milk, Claire asked, “How is he?”

“Logan? Busy. Overwhelmed, I think.”

“How so?” She couldn’t picture him that way. He always seemed in control of everything to the point of nonchalance.

“He’s just outside the Moria refugee camp. Apparently, there are five thousand people jammed in a facility meant for half that number. It’s an old military base, but he said it looks like a prison with chain-link fences topped with razor wire. Karina’s employer got them a rare pass to get inside for one day. Rats, trash-lined streets, unaccompanied minors, open fires for heat, emotional and physical trauma . . . He sounded appalled, which is saying a lot considering other things he’s seen in his travels. He almost sounded hopeless in his description, which is very unlike him.”

Claire’s heart rate spiked. Those conditions were ripe for violence and riots. “Is it safe?”

“There was no immediate threat when we spoke a couple of days ago. We never hear much from him when he’s on assignment. He gets pretty involved in his work, and with the time difference and stuff, it isn’t easy to communicate. He’ll ping me occasionally so I know he’s alive.”

Claire swallowed. The Prescotts’ cavalier attitude shocked her. Her parents couldn’t go more than several hours without checking in to make sure she was unharmed and happy. “Did he mention when he’d be home?”

Peyton peered at her, head slightly tilted. “No. But I’m surprised you’re so interested, given the way you dumped him at the gala.”

“I didn’t . . .” Claire blinked. “We shouldn’t talk about my relationship with Logan.”

“Why not?”

Claire met her gaze. “I still don’t trust you.”

Peyton’s left brow rose. “Despite my past behavior, in this instance you can rest assured that I don’t want Logan for myself.”

The wry delivery stunned Claire so much she laughed, then covered her mouth. They stared at each other until Claire reached for another brownie and poured herself a second glass of milk.

Peyton tapped her fingers on the table, letting loose with a heavy sigh. “I’ve apologized in every way I know how, Claire. Will there ever be a day when we might laugh together for real?”

Claire’s blood boiled until she thought she might melt right there at the table. It should be enough that she’d consented to work with Peyton on this party for Steffi’s sake. But everyone—Steffi, Logan, Peyton—wanted more from her. “Forgive and forget,” Logan had once said. How does one forget? She’d never been good at that. “I don’t know.”

Peyton propped one elbow on the table and rested her cheek in that palm. “Logan thinks I’m one of the reasons you won’t let yourself be happy with him. No matter what I do, the ripple effect of my mistake keeps coming back to hurt everyone.”

There weren’t enough brownies on that plate to get Claire through this conversation.

“You always liked him so much,” Peyton continued. “I wouldn’t have believed you’d let anything stand in the way of making things work.”

“Logan loves you more than anyone in the world, Peyton. Even if he wanted a serious relationship—which was never on the table, by the way—it would only work if I could let you all the way back into my life, because you’ll always be an integral part of his. A few weeks ago, I couldn’t imagine sitting at a table with you.” She snorted. “But look at us now . . .”

“There was a time when we both would’ve thought it a dream for you to end up with my brother.” Peyton shook her head with a sigh. “When your name comes up, there’s tenderness in his voice. That’s rare. It makes me question whether I was wrong to warn you off. I shouldn’t have sold him short. Not after everything he sacrificed to help me through the darkest period of my life. He deserved better from me. Besides, it’s pretty obvious I don’t know anything about what makes love last.”

Claire huffed, swallowing the rest of that second brownie and eyeing a third. “Apparently, neither do I.”

“Well, at least we have one thing in common, pathetic as it is.” Peyton grimaced. Two things, Claire silently amended, because they’d both been fooled by Todd. Peyton sighed. “Who would’ve ever believed Steffi would be the first of us to get married?”

Claire might’ve married first had Todd not met Peyton. Then again, after being with Logan, she knew she hadn’t belonged with Todd. Not only was he a troll, but also, in retrospect, theirs had been a tepid kind of love. Not one that could sustain them year after year. Not even one that could sustain his meeting Peyton.

“Maybe it’s all for the best, though,” Peyton continued. “Logan needs someone who can deal with him even when—especially when—he doesn’t know what he wants or needs. You like certainty and security. I hope you find that with someone worthy.”