Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I sigh. “Thank you for the divorce attorney reference. Margarita has been amazing. With no children and us both agreeing to a fifty/fifty split it should be relatively straightforward. Fingers crossed and knock on wood.”
“He’s accepted the inevitable, then?”
“So it would seem.”
“Good.”
“He’s wants to keep the house.”
“It’s in a good school district. That might suddenly be important due to Celine expecting.”
“Yeah.”
“But he’s made peace with the inevitable. That’s a good thing.”
“Pretty sure after the scene at my birthday party I’ve been relegated in his mind to being that crazy bitch who he’s better off without,” I say, doing my best not to grit my teeth. “I can’t help but wonder if that was in his head all along. To drive me so fucking insane that I look like the one in the wrong. He can pat himself on the back and walk away, thinking he’s rid of me.”
A grunt from her. “Men. Who the hell knows?”
“Whatever works, honestly,” I say. “I just want out.”
She makes a humming noise.
“Bizarre to think I was going to spend my life with him and now I’ll probably never speak to him again.”
“Bizarre or for the best?”
“A bit of both. So how are things with you?”
“The job is fine. My apartment is terrific. And Tony wants to get back together.”
“The new job is working out?”
“Yes. I like the people. And I’m on track for that corner office and partnership by forty, so yes, work is fine.”
“Go, you good thing. Yay or nay on Tony?” I lie on my childhood bed, relaxing after an intense occupational therapy session this morning. Four months since waking up and there’s no end to the work in sight. But I’m getting there.
“Undecided,” says Briar. “He fucks like a beast, but is emotionally wanting.”
“Hmm. Hard call.”
“And he gave me a gift certificate for Christmas.”
“That’s bad?” I ask. Certificates were Ryan’s gifting present of choice on account of me being impossible to shop for. I can be a fussy thing.
“It hints at a lack of careful thought and consideration when it comes to making me happy,” she says.
“Okay. I can see that. Though he might just have no shopping skills.”
“No.” Briar sighs. “The lack of care shows up in other areas of our attempted life together as well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. We’re compatible in some ways. Just not enough of the ones that matter.” She makes a humming noise. “So I guess that answers that.”
“That’s sad.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Well, no. I’m happy to keep dating. We’re not even thirty yet, for goodness sake. Who says we have to have it all together and be settled down by a certain age? That’s nonsense. We’re probably not even a third of the way through our lives. There’s a ton more for us to explore and experience.”
“That’s a very valid point.” I stare at the shadows on the wall made by the tree outside my childhood bedroom window. Even after months of being back it still feels strange. It feels like a failure. Like a setback. That’s the truth. “Though I thought I had it all together.”
“Life threw you a curve ball.”
“It sure did. In the shape of a car. It knocked me on my ass.” I open my eyes painfully wide. “If I haven’t said it before, thank you for sticking with me through all of this and listening to my moaning.”
“You’re very welcome.”
I don’t know what else to say. My brain is both a blank and a rush of blah. Perhaps it’s a mood swing kicking in, which is normal and to be expected. Another side effect to be managed.
“How did it feel kissing someone who wasn’t Ryan?” she asks.
“Exciting. Weird. And then wrong. Very, very wrong. Mostly because he rejected me, which is bound to be a downer.”
“Eh. It happens. Better luck next time.”
“I’ve learned my lesson. Don’t think I’ll be rushing back for more anytime soon.”
“Take your time. You’ll be ready when it’s right,” she says. “And then you too can once more confront the eternal dating questions of what the fuck are they even thinking, what does it all mean, and what the hell do I do now?”
I laugh.
“Celine reached out to me again,” she adds.
“Huh.”
“Wanted to tell me all about the baby and so on.”
I both do and do not want to know. “Okay.”
Briar clears her throat. “She’s had real bad morning sickness. It’s been a pretty rough pregnancy, apparently. Tired and nauseous all the time.”
“Oh.”
“I told her I was sorry to hear that, but that unless you magically decided to forgive her I didn’t have anything much to say to her.”
“I appreciate the solidarity,” I say. “But you don’t have to pick sides. We’ve all been friends a long time. I understand if you want to talk to her.”
“And if that had been me in that bed and my husband with Celine?”