How could I not smile at that? I realized as I looked down at her that I had no idea who she was. Wild bride, serious professional, hopeless car romantic; which one was the real her? “You’re very weird, Sophie.” “I know,” she said, lifting her chin just a little, daring me to pass judgment. “I like it,” I added, meaning that. There was something about her that . . . shit, that I liked.
