Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Ashley: Would love to but I’m going to see Mom for dinner and then meeting Sara and Becca at Mega Pint at nine.
Oh.
She sends me a picture of her in the tub. Her toes are sticking out of a bunch of bubbles.
Me: Remember you’re a married woman.
Ashley: LOL
Me: No laughing about it.
Ashley: I thought our marriage ended at the airport? And we’re just a fling now?
I did say that—kind of. And when I said it, I meant it—mostly. But now, sitting here, imagining her getting hit on and not knowing that the two of us are definitely a thing, it burns through me.
Me: Nope. Still married. You didn’t return the ring.
Ashley: Why don’t you come tonight too? Make sure I’m wearing it?
Me: Isn’t it a girls’ thing?
Ashley: Yeah, but it’ll be fine.
Me: Go and have fun. Call me if you need me.
Ashley:
Me:
Kissing emoji, my ass.
She wouldn’t do anything with anyone else. I trust her implicitly. And honestly, she doesn’t owe me any kind of loyalty.
I tap my chin.
Is this the way it’s going to be? She’ll be out with her friends as a free woman?
Of course, it is. Why wouldn’t it be?
It wouldn’t be if I’d just tell her I love her.
Me: Wanna go to Mega Pint tonight?
Banks: Sure. I’ll meet you in the kitchen around nine?
I sigh and get back to work.
TWENTY-FIVE
Ashley
“You look hot,” I say to Sara.
“Thank you. You are glowing in matrimony yourself.”
I roll my eyes as we stop for Becca to catch up.
Mega Pint, a little bar tucked between a bank and a barber shop away from the tourist traps, is our favorite local watering hole. Sometimes Gordie, the owner, has live music or a deejay. Most nights, it’s just the usual hits through a new touch-screen system that Gordie is quite proud of.
Once Becca has locked her car and joined us, we step across a giant crack that’s been in the sidewalk since we were in junior high and enter the darkened building.
The crowd isn’t too bad, consisting mostly of locals. We weave through the small mass of bodies by the door and make our way to the bar.
“Three amaretto sours, please,” Sara says.
“I really love that ring,” Rebecca says, touching my left hand.
I grin. “I reminded Maddox that we are just a fling, and he told me I better be wearing my wedding ring.” I take my drink as Sara pays. “Curious if he’ll show up tonight.”
“This place is pretty quiet tonight,” Sara says. “I didn’t open a tab just in case we decide to go back to Becca’s or something. Or we could go to mine if you guys want to go to Sunnyvale.”
Rebecca points at a booth in the back corner. “Let’s claim that now while it’s available.”
We walk to the booth, losing Sara temporarily in the process. A guy she sees every now and then—Bama Boy, I think she calls him—catches her attention as we pass.
Rebecca watches her longingly. “I wish I had her confidence.”
I look over my shoulder. “Yeah. Same.”
“Who are you kidding? You have confidence. I think you’ve had a boyfriend or fiancé the whole time I’ve known you.”
I sip my drink and think about that. “Have I?”
“Yeah. One after the other.”
Huh.
I’ve never thought about that before, oddly. But I can’t think of a time that I’ve been single for long. I wonder what that says about me?
“Who was your last boyfriend, Bec?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“You had dinner with Benny Marjero a few months ago,” I offer.
“Yeah, but it was dinner a few times. Nothing serious.”
Joan Jett comes on overhead, and I don’t have to look at the dance floor to know Sara’s on it.
“So who was your last real relationship?” I ask, taking another drink.
She plays with her bracelet, the one I got her in the Bahamas. “He was the sweetest guy. So kind and thoughtful and softly spoken. Everyone loved him.”
“Why did you guys break up?”
“He died.”
I set my drink on the table and try to keep my composure.
He died? Becca’s boyfriend died?
She gives me a tight smile and directs her attention to her phone. Pain is painted on her face.
“Bec, I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t know. How could you? I just don’t really like to talk about him, you know?
“Yeah. Okay.” Shit.
Sara dances up to the table. “Gotta pee. Anyone else?”
“I’ll go.” Becca scoots out of the booth. “Be right back.”
I nod, my heart twisting.
I hope I didn’t upset her. Why did I push? I wouldn’t have questioned her if I had known.
My poor, sweet friend.
My eyes close, and I take a long, deep breath. And I think my problems are bad.
I’m alerted to motion across from me by the sound of the booth squeaking. I pop my eyes open, expecting to see Maddox.
But it’s not.