7. Blair
7
Blair
M y overwhelming desperation to avoid being near Pete clearly clouded my judgment, since I’m now alone in a car with Ford, of all people—the number one person I planned to avoid spending any time with during my stay at home.
I’m probably overreacting. No, I’m definitely overreacting. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve previously sat in the passenger seat next to Ford, at least whenever Ronnie didn’t beat me to calling shotgun. Then, of course, there were plenty of times when it was just the two of us. However, even with my unbearable crush on him all those years ago, it never felt as awkward as this.
Why, oh why, didn’t I think of using the universal “get out of jail free” card? I could have faked a headache and suggested that Miles be the one to come and pick me up. Then again, Ford could have always suggested that he be the one to take me, which would have ultimately led to me being right back here anyway, but at least it wouldn’t have been me walking into the lion’s den by choice.
“So, I should probably say thanks for the ride,” I nervously chuckle, crossing my legs as I look down and pick at the black polish on my thumbnail.
“No problem. I’m just glad you included me in your escape plan. My usual excuse is that I need to lesson plan, but since I already told both of you how I’m all prepped for the next few weeks, I couldn’t exactly get away with that particular excuse.”
I heave a loud sigh. “I feel bad, but hopefully now that I know what I’m in for and know what to expect from him, I can keep myself better in check. He’s definitely not an easy person to be around.”
“Yeah, I probably should have warned you ahead of time,” he admits, and I can’t help the unamused laugh that escapes as he glances my way, raising his brow.
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the only thing I should’ve been warned about before I came back,” I mutter, immediately wishing I could take it back. It’s not his fault that the thing that’s bothering me most is the one thing Ronnie had told me in confidence. However, part of me feels like ever since I’ve been home, I’ve been hit with blindside after blindside. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.
“Like what?” he asks, eyebrows raising, before realization dawns on his face and his mouth dips open. “Oh.” He nods his head in understanding. “So, I’m guessing she told you then?”
“That you and Jenny are separated and getting divorced? Yeah, she told me.”
Ford’s hands tightly grip the steering wheel, causing his veins to visibly bulge before he finally releases a large exhale of breath. “Yeah, unfortunately, things haven’t been the best between us for a while now. I know the gossip is making the rounds, but I was kind of hoping to keep it under wraps until after Ronnie’s big day. The last thing I want is for any of my shitty drama to somehow overshadow her wedding.”
“I know it probably doesn’t sound that believable coming from me of all people, but I really am sorry. I know how much you loved her, or I guess maybe still do…” I offer, inwardly cringing at how awful of a job I’m doing, but what exactly am I supposed to say to this? I hated your fiancé, and I never wanted you to marry her in the first place, so you’re getting exactly what you deserve for not choosing me?
“It’s fine. It is what it is,” he curtly responds, making it clear this isn’t something he wants to discuss any further. Truthfully, I don’t want to talk about it either, even if I was the one who brought it up.
However, despite knowing I need to drop it, I can’t seem to help myself. “I just hope you know…” I begin, shifting in my seat as I angle my body toward his. “It was never anything against you, or really even Jenny, back then. I was stupid for doing what I did on your wedding day. That wasn’t fair of me, and I hate that I did that. To this day, it’s still one of my biggest regrets, and that’s the only reason that I felt like I needed to cut off all contact.”
I try to gauge his reaction, but I find myself at a loss. Despite our history, I can’t seem to figure him out; his expression remains inscrutable as he tightly grips the wheel, his eyes remaining fixed on the road ahead.
I continue. “It wasn’t because I was mad at you for not choosing me. You shouldn’t have, and it was so unfair of me to even think that I had the right to do something like that. It was a me thing, and if anything, I was the one who needed the distance and the space to finally move on so I could truly get over you once and for all. I just hope that I didn’t ruin everything. I know things can never go back to how they used to be, but maybe while I’m home we can at least have something that resembles a friendship. If there’s one thing we still have in common, it’s Ronnie, and I’m sure we can both agree that she deserves to have the best wedding day possible, even if it is with some loser we both hate and despise,” I ramble, clearly struggling to redeem myself.
“So, we’re still going to let her marry him? We’re not going to try and parent-trap her or something to try and stop the wedding?” he asks, the workings of a smile slowly forming on his face, thankfully seeming to ignore my big-ass rant about how stupid I’d been at his own wedding.
Perhaps I should feel annoyed, considering I’d just poured my heart out to him for the second time. However, I’d much rather let it go and avoid delving into what would likely be an awkward and uncomfortable conversation.
“Oh, believe me, I’ve learned my lesson. I’m never going to try and stop another wedding again.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s smart. Knowing Ronnie, she’d be stubborn and be like me and marry him anyway. Plus, weirdly enough, somehow I think she actually loves the guy.”
I shake my head. “I don’t get it. He doesn’t even seem like her type.”
“I dunno,” he starts, shrugging his shoulders, “I could see her being with someone a bit more serious, someone that balances her out a bit.”
I tilt my head and let out an annoyed puff of air. “There’s balance, and then there’s someone that squashes who you are and changes your personality completely. It’s like he’s molding her into some weird little Stepford wife, and I hate it. It’s as if he’s stripping away all of her best and most unique qualities.”
“So you’ve picked up on that too?” he asks, glancing over quickly before looking back at the road ahead.
“It’s pretty hard to miss. I mean, I know it’s such a little thing, especially since hair grows back, but even going as far as to change her looks just drives me insane. She’s easily one of the most beautiful women in the entire world and he somehow decided that wasn’t enough and needed to change that about her too,” I huff, folding my arms.
“So what do we do? Should we say something?”
“I don’t think so. Like I said, I’ve more than learned my lesson about that. Obviously, I don’t want her to have to learn the same lesson as you, but isn’t this her choice to make? I mean, she supports me in my relationship with Max, and don’t worry,” I assure him, since I’m well aware of the fact that he never liked my boyfriend either, “I get that we’re toxic, but her saying that isn’t going to change my mind. My feelings are my own and if it takes getting my heart broken by him over and over again, then that’s how it has to be. I’m the one that has to figure that out.”
“Speaking of Max…” he trails off, seeming to consider whether or not this is a topic he wants to broach. “Are you really thinking about getting back with him when you leave?”
I shrug one shoulder and turn to look out the window. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
“It just seems…” he hesitates. “I don’t know. I just don’t get the two of you together. Well, I mean, I get it to a certain extent since you both seem to be free spirits and have some similar passions, but if all you do is fight and break up, why stay with him? Why put yourself through that?”
“Like I said, it’s complicated. Sure, we fight, but we have our good moments too. Plus, he keeps things exciting, and well, you know me, I’ve always needed a little bit of excitement in my life. I don’t do well with monotony.”
“There’s a big difference between monotony and something that’s functional and healthy. Please tell me that you know that?” he begs, doing his best to sound playful, but it’s obvious he’s concerned. I can’t say I blame him either, if he or Ronnie kept dating someone who constantly cheated on them, I’d definitely have something to say about it too.
“What about you and Jenny?” I ask, turning the tables onto him.
His eyebrows knit together. “What about us?”
“I don’t know. What happened? Why did things end?”
I ultimately know it’s not my business, but clearly I’ve always had an issue with boundaries. Plus, the last time I saw the two of them was when they were having their first dance together, lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes, clearly madly in love.
“I don’t know if I can blame it on any one thing. I just…I don’t think we were right for each other. Yes, we loved and cared about one another, but all the passion was gone. Instead of enjoying each other’s company, it was like we were just tolerating each other, and that’s not a life I want to live. I don’t want to just tolerate the person I’m with. I don’t want to settle. There needs to be passion and excitement, and recently, or not so recently, all of that was missing, and I know she felt that too.”
“So was it you who ended things then?” I ask, knowing that I’m crossing a line, or at least walking dangerously close to one, but it’s something I desperately need to know.
“I brought it up first, but in the end, it was something she agreed with too. We both knew that things weren’t working.”
“So, Ronnie had mentioned this being a separation, does that mean that there’s a possibility for any sort of reconciliation?” I ask, holding my breath. It shouldn’t matter. This no longer affects me, but I’m overcome with an overwhelming need to know where he stands, even if it’s about something I’m no longer entitled to.
When I did what I did at his wedding and cut off contact afterward, I gave up all the rights I once had as a friend to know the intimate details of his life, but now, being in such close proximity, I’m feeling all mixed up. So many of the amazing memories we shared together have come flooding back these past few days, giving the illusion that we could possibly have what we once had, but I get that it’s nothing but a pipe dream—he owes me nothing, and rightfully so.
“I wouldn’t say there’s no chance of that happening, but I’m pretty sure we’re both on the same page. Last time we spoke, she requested more space and seemed to want and need this separation more than I did.”
I’m not entirely sure what answer I was looking for, but the mere idea of a reconciliation between him and Jenny is like a dagger to my heart, reopening the wound I’d so desperately hoped was healed. I should want him to be happy, even if that means he lives happily ever after with someone else, but the thought of it feels like too massive of an undertaking. I’m not that strong, and clearly, I’m not that good of a person. Perhaps it was for the best that I left and cut off contact, since I have to imagine he’s been much better off without having selfish little ol’ me around.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize again, not sure what exactly I’m saying sorry for, but even so, this time, it actually feels genuine.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice fading into silence as I do the same, the air growing heavy between us.
Luckily, the drive from Pete’s place isn’t too far from my brothers. Then again, when you’re in Evergreen Grove, nothing is too far away.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt as he pulls into the parking lot.
“You want me to walk you up?” he asks, slowing the car down as he seems to debate with himself about whether he should park or if he should just pull up in front of the stairs.
“I can thankfully walk myself up tonight,” I laugh, brushing a long strand of hair behind my ear before reaching for the handle once he’s come to a complete stop. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
He nods. “You’ll see me tomorrow.”
I know I shouldn’t care either way, especially after our intense conversation about his heartbreak and my potential reconciliation with my ex. However, a fire kindles low in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again, and so soon.
I’m only supposed to be here for a few weeks, and while I had initially hoped that our paths would rarely cross and we’d only have to be in each other’s company for the bare minimum, I exasperatingly catch myself longing for more.
“Good.” I smile one last time as I maneuver myself up and out of the seat. With a final wave, I shut the door and walk toward the stairs, closing my eyes and wrinkling my nose.
Despite all the giddy butterflies floating around in my stomach, this isn’t healthy. I’d been so convinced that I’d overcome my silly, childish crush on my best friend long ago, but now I’m starting to realize that some habits are impossible to shake. He’s an addiction that I’m not sure I’ll ever get past. Maybe I’m a lot more like my father than I’d care to admit.