I gave her an apologetic look, but she simply smiled like the graceful woman she was. As we loaded up in the cart, I gave Astrid one last glance, watching as she laughed along with one of the caddies at something he said. Camille placed the bowl on the table and turned halfway from her work to look at me; her plush lips were compressed into a thin line of disapproval. “It is,” Astrid said, arguing with me but keeping her tone conversational. It’ll be just the two of us for the entire weekend.”
Eyebrows canted in concern, she looked up at me with those big brown eyes of hers, and tears began to well up in her eyes. I would have been fine spending more time with her, but leaving didn’t break my heart either—golf would never be a pastime for me.
