Dante opens his mouth to add something, but I speak up first. “The other thing is, I was out with my ex-husband tonight.”
Dante’s mouth closes, and Leo slumps against the back of his chair, frustration clear in his body language.
“He wants another chance.”
My words hang in the air between us for a long moment before Dante says, “And you’re going to give him one?”
I lift one shoulder and let it fall. “It seems like the logical thing to do. It’s fifteen years of my life wasted —”
“Are you going to waste more years on him?” Leo accuses.
“You don’t even know him. You don’t get to say things like that about my decisions, not that I’ve made any decisions yet.”
“We could tell a lot about what kind of partner he was to you by the way you responded to us,” Darian says, and Leo nods in agreement.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He didn’t treat you right,” Dante says, and now his words hang, because I can’t object. But I didn’t treat Nick right either.
“You’ll understand when you’re older,” I say, “When you’ve been in a long-term relationship. You don’t just throw things away.” They’re irritated by my comments, but what I’m saying is true. “People can change,” I add.
“People can change, but very often, they don’t,” Leo says.
Darian stretches his arm out across the table but doesn’t quite reach me. “We don’t want you to get hurt anymore, Lorraine.”
I push my chair back. “I really enjoyed our time together. More than you’ll know. But I can’t see you anymore.”
“So that’s it, then?” Leo says, his eyes growing colder right in front of me.
“It has to be,” I say.
40
Lorraine
“Want some good news?” Brittany asks a few days later, the moment I answer her call.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Your loser ex got his ass dumped.” Her voice is gleeful with schadenfreude.
My body goes stiff.
“Serves him right,” she says.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Multiple people, but I saw him with my own eyes at Rusty’s. Regulars there told me he’s been coming in almost every night. He sits alone, crying in his beer.”
“Not actually?”
“No, not actually crying, but that’s how I like to picture him. He confided in the bartender that he’d been dumped. Karma is a badass bitch.”
I haven’t asked Nick how his relationship with Courtney ended, but I knew it was possible that it wasn’t his decision. Confirmation of this takes some of the shine off of his return to me.
“I hope he dies alone,” my sister says, her words dripping with venom.
“Brittany!”
“I mean it. That’s what he deserves for hurting my little sister.”
I already knew that I couldn’t confide in Brittany about Nick wanting me back, and this conversation makes that abundantly clear.
“Anyway, I just thought you’d like to know,” she says. “What are you up to today?”
There’s obviously no way in the world I’m telling her that I’m going out to dinner with him tonight. “Not much. How about you?”
We talk for a couple more minutes and then say goodbye. I’m distracted throughout the conversation, and the idea that I’m Nick’s second choice keeps pulsing in my head. Was he missing anything about our marriage before Courtney dumped him, or did he come to that realization only after he was alone?
I have a good feeling I know the answer.
“You look beautiful, Rai. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”
“Thank you.” Nick’s compliment only makes me realize how long it’d been, prior to these dates, since he’d said something like that.
“I didn’t make any reservations tonight. I thought we could play it by ear. What do you have a taste for?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” When I’m with Nick, I’m so full of thoughts, memories, and emotions that I barely have an appetite.
“How about Happy’s?”
I’m in the middle of putting on my sweater when he says this, but I pause, waiting for him to laugh or somehow indicate that his suggestion is a joke. When he doesn’t, I say, “Don’t you remember?”
His brow furrows.
“I got food poisoning there. Remember? I haven’t been back since. You knew that.”
He frowns, but then says, “Oh, right. That’s right,” but it doesn’t look like he actually remembers. It was years ago, of course, but it was a bad bout of illness and I’d been pretty vocal about never setting foot in that place afterward.
He suggests another place, and I agree.
In the car, after backing out of the driveway and shifting into drive, Nick rests his hand on my knee, and I stiffen.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
I glance down at his hand and shift closer to the door. “I’m just not ready for any physical contact, Nick.”
He gives me a look, shakes his head, and withdraws his hand. After a long moment of silence, he says, “Is this how it’s going to be, Lorraine?”
I stare at him, taken aback by the frustration in his tone.