10. Sable
CHAPTER 10
sable
W ho thought dating would give me a headache? Well, it did. It had been two days since the Aspen Gossip Daily (not an actual news outlet) had put out bulletin after bulletin about Alexa Vikar’s ex-husband, Heath Falkner, dating the trailer trash—the sad, pathetic ex-wife of Jack Cavalieri, who had dumped her ass and gotten his assistant, Molly—ready to pop any minute—pregnant. The embers of old high school stories (mean girls had memories like elephants) were being fanned into flames.
I was just about ready to wear a Scarlet Letter and be done with it.
I knew what was happening. Alexa wanted her ex back, and she’d activated the mean girl phone tree. I was not on social media—thank God. But the Wildflower was, and that worried me. I’d just taken over the place. What would I do if she came after my business? My new, fledgling business . It wasn’t just me—I had employees who were counting on paychecks and tips. For now, business was booming. The locals were flocking, and tourists, as always, kept the steady stream moving. Casey had even joked that a little scandal was not hurting us at all.
But it was hurting me.
I hadn’t been able to sleep the previous night, and when today, the tavern had once again been a hub of gossip, where I was the main course, my relentless headache made it hard to think, let alone keep up with the tavern's noise.
Since Mila was having a sleepover with a friend and Casey was working late, I decided to skedaddle out of the Wildflower, find a painkiller, and my bed, and in that order. “You good to close up, Case? I need to get out of here before my skull cracks in half.”
She nodded, giving me a sympathetic look. “Go. I’ve got it. Get some rest, Sable.”
Grateful, I grabbed my purse and headed out the back door. The cool spring mountain air hit me like a slap, clearing my head just enough to remind me that I didn’t have any ibuprofen at home.
Carl’s Pharmacy was only a few blocks away on Main Street, and walking felt better than sitting in the car.
As I walked, I tried to focus on the sound of my sneakers against the pavement, on the freshness of the air, anything to drown out the noise in my head.
Halfway there, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, squinting at the screen.
Jack.
Argh !
For a split second, I considered ignoring it. But I didn’t. I never did. Some part of me still hadn’t shaken the instinct to pick up, to listen, to brace myself.
“Yes,” I said, my tone sharp enough to cut.
Jack’s voice came through the line, low and furious. “Are you kidding me, Sable?”
I slowed my steps, frowning. “What?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb. Everyone’s talking about you flaunting your new fuck buddy all over town.”
My headache throbbed harder, but my pulse flared with anger. “Are you serious right now? You were flaunting your pregnant mistress before the divorce papers were even signed, Jack. You don’t get to lecture me about my personal life after we’re divorced.”
“Don’t turn this around on me,” he snapped. “This isn’t about Molly or me. This is about you, embarrassing yourself, and, by extension, me. It’s pathetic, Sable.”
I stopped walking and clenched my free hand into a fist. “You don’t get to tell me what’s pathetic, Jack. Not after you left me for someone half your age who you knocked up.”
His laugh was bitter, grating. “You think people don’t see you for what you are? Trailer trash trying to play with the big kids—like always. And now you’re chasing Heath Falkner? Do you think he doesn’t see it?”
I wanted to hang up. I wanted to scream. Instead, I forced steel into my voice. “Who I chase after and who I do whatever with is none of your business.”
He scoffed, but before he could reply, I ended the call, set my phone on mute, and shoved the offending slab of technology back into my pocket. My hands were trembling, and my teeth clenched so hard that my jaw hurt. None of this helped the pounding headache.
By the time I reached the pharmacy, I felt raw and scraped.
“Sable, darlin’, how are you?” The woman behind the counter looked at the bottle of generic ibuprofen I had set in front of her before scanning it. “You okay?”
“Thanks, Renay, I’m fine. Just have a headache.”
“You coming down with somethin’?”
I shook my head, and since that hurt, I held it as still as the plastic smile on my face. “Just didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
Renay gave me a knowing smile as she rang me up. “I hope you were up all night with that handsome hunk you’re seeing.”
You’ve got to be kidding me! I had a headache, and she thought it was because I’d spent the night getting pounded by Heath. Well, hon, that was two nights ago, and since this clusterfuck of gossip, I doubt I’m going there again.
I forced myself to keep the smile on my face. “I’m not seeing anyone. Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t.” Her eyes brightened with malice and mischief. “But if I were you, I’d be careful. I hear Alexa is on the warpath. She’s hoping for a reconciliation with her husband.”
Ex-husband!
“Right.” I held out my credit card.
“So, enjoy yourself, but don’t expect much, okay? ”
I held back a sigh and a snort. Everyone had a fucking opinion, like everyone had an asshole. “I’ll see you at trivia night on Tuesday, Renay.” I took my pills and my receipt and stuffed them into my bag.
Ben had been doing Tuesday Trivia Night at the Wildflower for years, a tradition that I was continuing.
I walked quickly to the door to get the hell out before Renay decided she had some other piece of insulting wisdom to impart.
On my way back to the car, I passed by the new Italian restaurant, Amore. Its big picture windows were glowing warmly. My footsteps faltered when I saw the people inside.
Heath was sitting at a table with Juno and Alexa.
My stomach twisted painfully.
Juno laughed, her smile bright and genuine. She was happy. Of course, she’d want her parents together. Of course, she’d be thrilled to have them sitting across the table from each other, sharing a meal like they were still a family.
And Alexa, well, mean girl, was making a statement for all of Aspen to see, and especially me. She was getting her ex back. She was putting her family back together, and I could go on and fuck myself.
I stood there on the sidewalk, staring at them through the glass, as the hammers inside my head pounded harder.
They were a picture-perfect family. I was the interloper who’d had a brief taste of a good relationship before being reminded that it wasn’t mine to keep .
Heath had slept with me, and now he was having dinner with his ex-wife and daughter as a family in public.
Talk about putting me in my place. Both Heath and Alexa had done that.
I was such a fucking fool. I’d thought we had a connection—okay, so I was planning to sever it because of the whole shitstorm it started—but I hadn’t thought that he’d fuck me and then go right back to his ex-wife.
It was humiliating.
I could hear the gossip mongers.
“He screwed her and then screwed her over. He’s back with Alexa.”
“Of course, he is. Sable is good for what she’s got between her legs, but no decent man wants to be with her.”
“Jack did.”
“Yeah, and guess what? He dumped her skanky ass, too.”
When I got home, the house was warm, cozy, and quiet, but it didn’t embrace me the way it had these past months. I dropped my keys and phone on the counter, tossed my purse on the sofa, and stood for a long moment, staring into the dark mountains framing my window, only the outlines of which I could make.
My phone rattled silently. I checked it.
There was a message from Heath: Hey, how are you?
I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. When had he sent it? At the table with Alexa? After dinner, on his way home? Did it even matter?
I turned the phone over so I couldn’t see his words .
My head was still pounding, and my thoughts were spiraling in too many directions.
I took my ibuprofen, brushed my teeth, cleansed my face, and crawled into bed without answering Heath. I pulled the blankets up to my chin.
The tears came before I could stop them, hot and silent, soaking into the pillow as I stared at the ceiling.
Maybe Jack was right. I was pathetic. I was always going to be the outsider, the girl who didn’t belong, the woman who could never quite get it right. Men were going to use me and then discard me because I was only good for fucking, nothing more, not respect, not affection, and definitely not love.
I cried until I couldn’t anymore. And then, finally, I slept.