“No.”

“Well, I’m pulling down the drive now.”

“What does she even want?” I whisper, more to myself than my cousin.

“Who knows, but you’re not dealing with her alone,” she mutters as I hear the sound of her car getting closer then the crunch of gravel, and a moment later, I hear her car door slam. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asks loud enough for me to hear through the door. Hanging up my cell phone, I turn the knob and swing the door open.

“I just want to talk,” Isla says softly, turning to face me, looking remorseful.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” I cross my arms over my chest as a chill from the wind slides over my skin.

“I know you hate me.” Snorting, I shake my head as June steps up onto the porch and comes to stand next to me, resting her hands on her very pregnant, very round stomach. “Dillon and I—”

“There is no Dillon and you,” June puts in. Isla’s attention slides to her, and I see the icy look in her eyes before she hides it behind a look of sadness.

“My family has been his only family since his parents passed away. I don’t want your hate for me to take him away from my parents.”

“I would never stop him from having a relationship with anyone. He’s his own person. He can do what he likes.”

“Then why hasn’t he returned any of our calls? Why wouldn’t he see me when I went by the office today?”

Shrugging, I answer silently while wondering if she went to the office before or after he came home, and why he didn’t tell me that she was in town, even if he didn’t meet with her. Really, I haven’t thought much about her over the last few weeks, but seeing her standing in front of me now, I wonder if she hates me enough to try and hurt me.

“Where were you three days ago?” I ask, and she frowns, making a wrinkle pop out between her perfectly plucked brows.

“What?”

“Where were you three days ago?” I repeat, studying her.

“I don’t know, home.” She shrugs, smoothing her hands down her waist and hips.

“So you weren’t in Tennessee?” June asks, seeing what I’m getting at with my questions.

“No, I just flew in this morning. Why?”

“Just curious,” I mutter, waving my hand out, and her eyes move to it and narrow.

“Is that your wedding ring?” My eyes drop to the band on my finger and I ball my hand into a fist to keep it on, as if her seeing it will cause it to disappear. “He didn’t give you his mom’s ring?” she whispers, and even though I know she’s not talking to me and it’s just an observation, her words are a direct shot to my gut and I feel my legs get weak.

“Are you done?” June asks, and her head turns toward my cousin.

“I—”

“You’re done,” June states, not giving her a chance to finish her reply as she crowds me back into the house behind her.

“Please talk to him,” Isla cries, looking at me as June starts to close the door. “My mom is worried about him. She just wants to make sure he’s okay.”

“I’ll tell him to call her,” I agree quietly as June shuts the door in her stunned face.

“God, I hate her,” June hisses, getting up on her tiptoes to look through the peephole.

“Me too.” Dropping my eyes to my hand, I look at my wedding ring. Shaking my head, I close my eyes.

“You okay?”

“No.” I sigh, feeling her hand on my shoulder. “I need a drink,” I murmur as I head for the kitchen.

“Can you drink right now?”

“Unfortunately, no.” I really wish I could have a glass of wine, but I can’t.

“Do you want to talk about what you’re thinking?” she asks, taking a seat on one of the stools at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I pass it to her, pick up mine I left earlier, and take a gulp before dropping my eyes to the marble whispering, “He has his mom’s wedding ring.”

Looking up at my cousin, I wonder what it means that he didn’t give it to me. I know I shouldn’t be thinking it, but I can’t understand why I’m wearing a band from a wedding chapel, while he has his mom’s wedding ring. A ring I know means something to him. A ring I didn’t know about until now. A ring he has talked to the she-bitch about, even though he obviously didn’t give it to her either.

“You have him. Don’t let that crazy bitch get to you or get into your head.”

“I’m not,” I lie shakily. I don’t know why this is bothering me so much, but it feels like I just got to the top of the roller coaster and found out there are no more tracks for my ride down.

“Get that look off your face right now,” she snaps, and my eyes focus on hers. “Dillon is in love with you.” She points at me. “You don’t know his reasoning for not giving you his mom’s ring, or if there is even a ring to be given. For all you know, he could have lost it years ago, or he could be waiting until the right moment to slide it on your finger.” Her eyes soften and I hold my breath. “In the end, it’s just a piece of metal that means nothing. Marriage isn’t based on the size of the rock on your finger. It’s based on what you feel for the person you are sharing your life with.”

Feeling properly scolded, I set my water bottle down and rub my forehead. She’s right. One minute with Isla has me questioning everything and doubting Dillon’s feelings for me. “I’m an idiot.”