JENNIE

The house is even more charming close-up than the glimpse I caught through the hedge when I stopped here once to see what my ex-husband and his new flame were up to. The front yard—an English style yard as Yeji first described it to me when she was designing our living room interior—is filled with wildflowers, birdfeeders, cute fountains and rose bushes. Everything looks like it's spontaneously sprouted out of the ground, yet I know she's planned every blade of grass to the tee, just like she planned to steal my husband while pretending to be my friend. I don't even care about that anymore. I don't care that he's left me for her, and I don't care that she's pregnant and that they'll probably live happily ever after in this bohemian paradise. All I care about is Ella and that she's okay.

Seeing her car in the driveway sends a rush of relief through me. At least she didn't drive back to New York in her current state, but the fact that she's here must mean that she's terribly upset as she's refused to visit Yeji's house until now. Mark and Yeji occasionally meet up for lunch in Southampton, but other than that, they're not nearly as close as they used to be. This is the first time since he moved in that I'm actually grateful he lives close by.

The bungalow-style villa is painted in a hideously trendy shade of mint, the front door two shades darker, just like the window frames. It opens before I have a chance to ring the bell, and when Mark appears, I take a step back, shocked to see him up-close after a year of deliberately avoiding each other. I can tell he's uncomfortable too and the twitch in his eyebrow would have amused me if I wasn't here because of what just happened.

"Jennie. Hi."

"Hi." I hold up Ella's bag. "She forgot her stuff."

Mark nods. "Did you two have a fight or something? She's crying in the guest bedroom and she won't tell me what's wrong."

"No…" I realize that I'm not prepared for this conversation at all, and I can't possibly tell him what actually happened. "So you don't know either," I say, hoping I sound convincing enough for him to let me off the hook. She might tell him, she might not, but for now, I prefer to keep my cards close to my chest.

Mark doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't pry either. I suppose he feels guilty enough toward me as it is and doesn't want to rub me up the wrong way. "No, I don't."

"Can I see her?" I glance over his shoulder into the hallway, suspecting Yeji is lurking in the background, listening in on our conversation.

"She told me to leave her alone, but I can ask." Mark takes the bag, gestures for me to stay in the doorway and heads to the left down the corridor, giving me a peak into the living room. I catch a glimpse of an Indian rug and a designer couch filled with matching cushions. I imagine them sitting there together, but it doesn't hurt. Yeji's shoes and coats are in the hallway, but I see none of Mark's, and this amuses me. When he designed our house, he went out of his way to figure out clever storage so we wouldn't need a hallway. He hates them and thinks they're mundane, which I've always disagreed with. I mean, who doesn't need a place to put shoes and coats with a long mirror to check how you look before you leave the house? I even considered having one built after our divorce, just to annoy him.

"Sorry." Mark appears again. "She doesn't want to talk to you right now." He gives me an awkward smile. "I'm sure she'll come around, whatever it is."

"Yes, I hope so." I manage to return his smile. "Were you on your way to see me on the beach the other day? I saw you in the distance."

He briefly glances over his shoulder. "Yes, but it can wait. You had company, so I turned back."

"Just a friend," I say, praying Ella won't sell me out.

"A new friend? I couldn't see his face; he was too far away."

"Her name is Lisa." I chuckle, realizing her short hair and cap must have given him the wrong impression from afar.

"Oh." Mark awkwardly clears his throat. "Anyway, how are you?" His brow twitches again as he asks the question, no doubt dreading the answer. He's probably bracing himself for something like 'How the fuck do you think I am?', but I smile dutifully back at him.

"Not bad." I don't mention that I've just had the most thrilling fuck in my life, even though it ended on a highly painful note. "You?"

"Same," he says, and shrugs. "We're good."

There's a silence, and I wait for him to tell me about the baby, but he doesn't. Perhaps he's worried I'll cause a scene here. "Well, I'd better go then. Will you please ask Ella to call me? I know she's not a kid anymore but I'm worried. She looked like she'd been crying before she arrived."

"Of course. I'll ask her to call you," Mark promises. "And I'll try to talk to her."

"Thank you. How's Yeji by the way?" I ask as I step away.

Mark frowns, as if he can't quite believe the kind of conversation we're having. I'm not sure what he'd expected but it probably wasn't this civilized—albeit artificial—and I'm sure it throws him. "She's good," he says, then pauses again. "She's…"

"She's what?"

"No, I just meant she's been fine. Work, life…" His voice trails away and then the opportunity has passed. He's not going to tell me now, but I know he will when he's ready.

"Right, that's good." I fiddle with my keys and walk back to my car. "I'll wait to hear from Ella."

"Okay." After an awkward exchange of polite smiles, Mark steps outside and casts another quick, shifty look over his shoulder, then joins me by the car. I open my window, giving him the chance to speak. "Jennie…"

"Yes?" I lock my eyes with his and the anger I was convinced would overtake me once I saw him again still hasn't shown its evil self.

"I just wanted to say that…" He leans forward and rests his elbow on the top of the car. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. For what I did to you."

I sit with his apology for a while as it's the first time he's actually said this to my face, and I want to give him an honest reply. "Are you happy?" I ask.

"Yes. I think so."

"Then I'm happy for you," I assure him. "Take care."