Chapter 16 Reid #2
I wanted to pull her to me and give her a hug. Instead, we wandered into the next aisle in silence, her shoulders slightly slumped. Hoping to lift her mood, I grabbed a painting of a rooster that was both disturbingly lifelike and terrifyingly animated at the same time.
“What about this one?” I asked.
She glanced up, her sad demeanor cracking as soon as she saw it. “That’s perfect,” she said through a laugh.
The spell was broken. Her smile was back.
At the checkout line, I tried to pay for her selections, but Hazel insisted.
Thankfully, it wasn’t too expensive, or I would have fought her harder.
If I was being honest, her financial situation had me far more stressed out than I should be.
And knowing that if I failed to locate Vermont she’d be sending all of her newfound lotto wealth to some psychopath made me even more concerned.
I hated to sound heartless, but if I had any say in the matter, I might have suggested she pay off her debts and let the cat live out the rest of its days in its new home.
But I knew exactly the kind of look Hazel would give me if I said that out loud.
And the last thing I wanted was for her to think less of me.
Still, knowing she had all that credit card debt made my stomach sink. I hated the idea of her struggling for money all these years.
We carried our “treasures,” as Hazel called them, out to the car and loaded them into the trunk. With that mission complete, I drove us to the grocery store, landing us a parking spot right up front.
“You know you passed three other stores on your way here, right?” she asked, as we got out of the car and walked to the entrance.
“This is my grocery store,” I said. It was farther away, but I liked this one. It was the cleanest in the area and the best stocked.
She let out a soft laugh. “Of course it is.”
Something about grocery shopping in the fall hit different. There were poinsettias and wreaths on display outside, advertisements for holiday deals everywhere you turned, extra cookies in the baked goods section. Grocery shopping had always been one of my favorite errands.
I grabbed the cart and pushed it to the produce section, Hazel by my side.
“What should we make?” she asked, eyeing a bag of peppers. “Oh, what about Indian! I saw a recipe on the Food Network the other day that looked amazing.”
I chuckled. “Indian? I think that’s a bit ambitious for your first meal.”
“That’s why it’ll be fun to try.”
“It’s taco night,” I said matter-of-factly. I always had tacos on Saturday. It was the perfect meal to make too much of and use as leftovers for lunch over the following days.
Hazel’s lips parted in that cute way they always did when I said something incomprehensible to her. “Seriously? You have a pre-planned menu.”
I shrugged. “I mean, not for every single day, but sometimes it’s nice to have a line-up of dinners.”
“It’s also nice to try something new.”
I bagged a head of lettuce and set it in the cart. “You cooking is the new part of the evening. We don’t need to add anything extra.”
Hazel bit back her smile. Her eyes twinkled as she readied her next argument.
“Reid?” A new voice called my name.
Hazel’s confused eyes met mine for a brief second before we both turned.
Recognition slammed into my brain a second before I saw her.
“Meghan,” I breathed. My ex-wife stood before us, looking obnoxiously good in her athleisure wear.
Her blonde hair was pulled back into an impossibly tight ponytail.
She stood next to a guy just a few inches taller than her.
He was thin and obviously older, by the faint wrinkles lining his eyes.
I didn’t have to ask to know that this was her new boyfriend.
“I can’t believe it’s you.” Her eyes flashed with a hint of panic at first, but she covered it quickly.
I probably only caught it this time because I’d seen that exact look a million times—usually aimed at my family.
The classic ugh, I really don’t want to talk to you right now, but I have to pretend to be polite expression.
“You know I come here,” I said, irritated. This had always been my favorite store. She used to complain the prices were too high and pushed us to shop somewhere else. But now, apparently she’d had a change of heart. I wondered if it had to do with the guy by her side.
“This is the only place you can get good organic stuff, right babe?” the boyfriend said. Yep, there it was.
“Right,” she said, shooting me a nervous glance.
As far as divorces go, ours hadn’t been the worst. The marriage had been short, the legalities amicable.
And by no means did I hate her or wish anything negative to befall her.
With that said, I’d still have preferred never to see her again.
She’d said some hurtful things at the end. Things I hadn’t forgotten.
Meghan looked at my cart, any nerves transforming into a smug smile as she spotted the lettuce and avocado I’d already picked out.
“Taco night? Wow, some things really never change,” she said.
A hand squeezed my bicep.
“Actually, we’re trying Indian fusion tonight. Something new,” Hazel said in a bright voice.
Meghan’s gaze shifted to her as if just noticing her for the first time.
“Really?” she said, jutting out her lip. “That doesn’t sound like Reid.” Even though her gaze didn’t visibly drift, I could tell she was sizing Hazel up.
Hazel was only a few years younger than Meghan, but she had that effortless, youthful glow about her, her hair flowing free, cheeks dewy, wrapped in one of the oversized sweaters she practically lived in—she looked relaxed, unbothered, and completely herself.
My eyes met Hazel’s and I hoped they conveyed my appreciation. She had covered for me. I didn’t want Meghan to believe she knew me as well as she thought she did. I wanted her to know the things she’d said about me during the breakup weren’t true.
Even though she’d been right. I was uptight and stiff.
And I was attempting to force taco night, yet again.
“Huh,” Hazel said, brow furrowed. “That’s interesting. It was his idea—always trying something new, this one. You should see some of the stuff he just picked out at the thrift store. It’s going to be fun giving his house a little makeover.”
I bit my lip trying not to laugh. I wanted to hug Hazel right then.
She had a way of taking a moment that should’ve felt small and heavy, and flipping it on its head.
One second, I was bracing myself for the awkward tension of running into my ex for the first time since we’d swapped the last of our stuff.
The next, I was simply standing in a grocery store, grabbing ingredients with Hazel, excited about teaching her how to cook.
I didn’t give a fuck who else was there.
And just like that, I realized what moving on really felt like.
It felt like this.
Like not caring.
Meghan’s mouth hung open for a second before she snapped it shut. “T-thrift store?” she whispered in confusion, the words barely audible.
Then we were all just standing there, both with our carts, not quite sure how to extricate ourselves from this painful social interaction.
“Man, it’s good to meet you,” the boyfriend said, huge smile glued to his face. “I’ll break the uncomfortable tension in the room. Always weird to run into exes. I’m Bernard, by the way.” He gave a small wave.
Hazel laughed. “I’m Hazel.” The way Hazel said it clearly implied that she and I were more than friends—and I didn’t bother correcting her.
Not because I wanted Meghan to feel jealous—she wouldn’t, and I wouldn’t want her to—and not because her surprised expression gave me any kind of petty satisfaction.
It didn’t. I honestly didn’t care about any of that.
What did catch me off guard was how good the idea felt of introducing Hazel as something more. Before I could stop it, a fantasy had started playing out in my mind. One where running to the grocery store together was a typical weekend activity.
Meghan laughed and rocked back and forth on her heels.
It was strange seeing her in such a normal place.
Somewhere I ran errands. We’d been in this same aisle together many times before, except in that alternate timeline, we were pushing the same cart in a comfortable silence.
It was hard to remember that version of myself.
The one who thought I’d soon be starting a family of my own.
Who thought I’d settled into my routine life.
Back before Meghan had changed the rules of the game.
“Well,” Meghan finally said, lips tight. “It was good to see you.”
“You too,” I said, and that was that.
We parted ways.
Except we were both shopping in the same goddamn grocery store, so the rest of the trip involved Hazel and me awkwardly bumping into them in nearly every freaking aisle we went down.
“Kill me,” I muttered after we’d picked out the rest of our produce and spotted them ten feet away at the butcher.
“I’d say we should give up and abandon the cart, but we can’t let them know they’re getting to us,” Hazel said through the smile pasted on her face. Out of nowhere, she burst into a loud fit of laughter, pointing at a random sale sign for a salmon fillet.
I jerked back. “What was that for?”
“Laugh,” she hissed. “We need to make it look like we’re having fun.” She tossed the ground turkey into the cart.
I chuckled, shaking my head at her ridiculousness. “I am having fun. With you.” I added the last part in case it wasn’t obvious. Hazel was the only thing making today enjoyable.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I swore I saw hint of pink spreading across her cheeks.
When we got to the spice aisle, Hazel tossed in curry powder.
I raised my eyebrows but before I could protest, she said, “Nope. You’re trying something new, Reid, whether you like it or not.”
I kind of realized I did like it. Not necessarily trying something new, but her making me try something new.
We hastily moved to the other side of the store and finished our shopping as quickly as possible. The entire thing felt like a bad concept for a game show—we’d only win the prize if we grabbed our items and got out of each aisle before spotting my ex again.
Back in the car, after we wrapped up, Hazel turned to me and smiled. “Kind of crazy that we ran into your ex a few days after you ran into mine.”
I nearly choked on my own spit. I hadn’t expected her to bring him up.
“Uh, yeah. This town is too small,” I said, instead of admitting the truth—that I had tracked her ex down because of some sort of morbid curiosity. I think I’d die of humiliation if Hazel sniffed out my jealousy.
“I can’t believe you talked me into changing the dinner plans to Indian taco night,” I said, throwing the car into drive and hoping she’d accept my change of subject.
She clapped her hands and rubbed them together. “You’re in for a treat, Reid. They’re going to be delicious.”