“I guess…” I sigh. It’s hard for me to imagine, since I adore my job at Silicone Dream.
“Okay, what’s really up? You weren’t this moody even when you decided to divorce Todd.”
“I was happy because I was finally getting rid of the deadweight in my life. But this is different.”
“How?”
Before I can answer, the door to the deli opens and Todd walks in. He scans the dining area.
“What the heck?” I mutter. It dawns on me that he might actually be stalking me.
The campus is too far away for him to make the trip out here just for lunch. At least he doesn’t seem drunk. He’s in a pressed white dress shirt and black slacks. The bruises my tree gave him have faded significantly, more yellow now than purple.
Ellie turns around. “What the hell is that asshole doing here?”
He comes over to our table. Ugh. Just no.
At least there are too many people around for him to make a scene.
“What do you want, Todd?” I say in my best no-pushover voice.
“I want to apologize.”
I blink, then turn to Ellie. “Did you just hear that?” Todd never apologizes for anything, even when it’s one hundred percent his fault.
“He wants to apologize,” Ellie says, looking as stunned as I feel.
“You don’t have to involve her,” Todd says. “This is about us. What we’ve shared.” He runs a hand along his belt. “Remember this?”
“Of course. The Prada belt I bought you for your birthday.”
“Exactly. Part of our history together.” He shoots Ellie a look that says, You don’t have what I have with Sierra. Which is ridiculous. Ellie’s been my best friend since forever. Todd is just one small chapter in my life. Actually, not even a chapter. More like a scene.
“Unfortunately, I don’t still have the present you got me that year,” I say.
He looks wounded. “Why not? Did you throw it away or something?”
“You bought me a pizza from Costco.”
“What?” He sputters. “No. I got you more than that.”
“Well, yes. You also bought me a soda.”
“But you love pizza,” he says.
I nod.
“So what’s wrong with me buying you pizza for your birthday?” he demands, his face starting to go red.
Ellie shoots him a what-an-idiot look.
“If you don’t know, I can’t help you,” I say flatly. This is tiring. I hope his next wife is more patient than me. Actually, never mind. I wouldn’t wish him on any other woman.
He slaps the table so hard, the furniture shakes. “This is what’s wrong with you! You never communicate. Just say some cryptic shit and expect me to jump through hoops to get back into your good graces like some pussy-whipped dweeb! Well, guess what? Todd Beaker is not pussy-whipped!”
I freeze. I didn’t expect this from a sober Todd. Maybe Griffin’s right to be concerned about my ex-husband’s behavior.
Ellie shoots him an evil look, her hand clenched around her soda cup. I reach for mine, too. Sadly, those are the only weapons we have. At least I still have lots of ice cubes in mine. Maybe he’ll cool down if I toss them at him.