Chapter 27
Shay
Students will be able to examine forgotten history and sunken ships.
“I need you sitting for this,” I said to Jaime.
“I’m leaning against the kitchen counter. Is that adequate?” she asked. “If not, we might have to reschedule this chat. I’m slow going today.”
I opened the front door at Thomas House and then shut it behind me. “What’s wrong? What’s going on that you don’t want to video call?” She groaned out a sigh as I settled onto the floor. I’d told Noah I needed to check on something here but I just needed a minute alone. A minute to think.
“I have a UTI. I went to the clinic last night and the meds are kicking in but I can’t move or breathe very deeply right now. I can exist and that’s about it.”
“Oh my god, James. Is someone taking care of you?”
“Yeah, my roommates have been amazing as per usual. Don’t even threaten to come up here. I’m okay. I just need to get through the next twelve hours and then I won’t feel like I fell into a quarry.”
“I’m not sure I know what it means to fall into a quarry.”
“It’s terrible. Don’t try it,” she said. “In other news, I will be taking a sex hiatus for at least two weeks. Probably a month.”
“Is that how this happened?”
She murmured in agreement. “It’s important to pee after sex, doll. Even if you can’t walk or remember your name. Especially then.”
“Good to know.”
“So, what’s going on with you?” she asked. “What do you have for me that would knock me on my ass?”
“The ex messaged me last night.”
“Holy fucking shit, he did what ?”
I nodded but then realized this wasn’t video. “Yeah. He texted right after Noah and I had this big, emotional talk and he wants—”
“Wait. Wait a minute. What was the big, emotional talk about?”
I shoved my fingers through my hair because I was still processing all the ground we’d covered.
Still trying to parse out what was true and what was dirty talk with feelings—and whether I should believe the dirty talk.
And if any of it was true, even a single word, what did that mean for our fake marriage?
“Long story short—and it’s a very long story I’ll share with you on a day when you don’t require a fainting couch—he wants to get moving on the renovations at Twin Tulip and he thinks I’m dragging my feet because I don’t want to get attached to the project and that I want to give myself room to walk away. I said I’m—”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doing. I’m sorry, I can’t pull off my usual love-and-hard-truths sandwich so you’re getting the raw-dog truths. Daddy Bread Baker is right. You’re hedging so you don’t get hurt and disappointed.”
“I have a lot going on,” I argued. “More since the ex has resurfaced and I had to explain another one of my disasters to Noah.”
“Okay. All right. Tell me what that cockwobble has done now.”
I dropped my head against the panel of the door and stared up at the pair of chandeliers. “He said we need to talk immediately.”
“Fuck him,” she replied. “Seriously, fuck him. You don’t have to answer simply because he calls.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Are you though? Because it sounds like you’re letting this asshole corrupt your happiness.
You can—and should—block his number. Why didn’t we do that to begin with?
I don’t know how that slipped through the cracks but do not allow the utter chaos and disrespect of that man to infiltrate your nice, stable situation. Exit him from your life, Shay.”
“I just—” I stopped, pressed my lips together as a dozen justifications burned my tongue.
I hated this feeling. I’d hated it last night too.
It made me feel small, like I’d crawl for any crumb the ex tossed my way.
At the same time, I couldn’t turn him down.
“I need an explanation. I need to know what happened.”
“He outed himself as the pissypants bitch we always knew he was,” she replied.
“That’s what happened. I hate it and I hate him for it but he isn’t going to float in on a bubble and beg you to believe that he got cold feet.
He’s not going to apologize because he isn’t sorry.
I don’t think he has the capacity to recognize the harm he did. ”
I uncapped my water bottle and drank deeply. Then, “When did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That he was a cockwobbling pissypants bitch.”
She didn’t respond for several heavy seconds. “Tell me what you want me to say here.”
“Just…the truth.” I took another sip. “You don’t feel well enough to hold back anyway.”
“I liked him when you first started dating,” she said.
“I mean, I liked him enough. He’s a real estate developer.
He’s like all the other guys who make deals.
Massively inflated ego, no self-awareness, and an inability to participate in a conversation without dropping a name or dollar amount for no logical reason whatsoever. It was fine.”
“That doesn’t sound fine,” I said with a bitter laugh.
“He’s funny and he could take a joke at his expense,” she conceded.
“I could tell him to shut the fuck up and he’d do it but he’d also laugh about him being a pain in the ass.
And he’d pick up the bar tab. I had no trouble with any of that.
” I heard her open the fridge. “But that was it, you know? That was the whole story. There was nothing else there. Or that was all he’d let anyone see.
And that didn’t sit well. You know this because we talked about it a few times. ”
I chugged more water.
“There were a few other times when you listened to me about the strange vibes I got from him but there was a point where you decided those weren’t issues for you.
And there was a time right after you got engaged when I tried to tell you that I was seeing some major red flags.
I remember that chat so clearly. You told me that you’d heard my concerns but you weren’t breaking off the engagement because you knew him better than I did and I just didn’t understand your relationship. ”
“We didn’t talk for five days after that.”
“ Five days, ” she repeated. “I thought we were broken up.”
“That will never happen.” I glanced from the left parlor to the right. It seemed like I hadn’t been here in years. “How…how did you manage being my maid of honor?”
“I did that for you. I was your maid of honor. For your wedding. It had nothing to do with him.”
“You were going to let me go through with it.”
She huffed. “It wasn’t my choice to make, doll. If I’d beaten you over the head with criticisms of him, you would’ve stopped talking to me. You would’ve shut me out. So, I chose to stick by you.”
“I don’t deserve you,” I said.
“Of course you do. Don’t tell yourself that sort of bullshit. You deserve me and your Daddy Bread Baker and all the other good things in this world. You don’t deserve that cockwobble intruding on your time, especially if that time involves that man of yours.”
“Noah said the same thing.” I drew in a deep breath, blew it out. “And I know all of this but I feel like I need to do it. I need to find out what he wants and then I can set all the baggage associated with him on fire and push it out to sea.”
“I don’t have the energy to talk you out of this,” Jaime said. “I want to. I probably should. But it feels like there’s a blowtorch in my bladder and I don’t have any convincing words.”
We were silent for a minute. I didn’t want to repeat the cycle of Jaime seeing the situation while I ignored her warnings but I needed to know. I needed an explanation.
“When are you going to do this?” she asked. “With the ex.”
“Noah suggested I tag along for the next Boston farmers market. I have an outfit picked out already. Jeans, red gingham shirt knotted at the waist, strawberry earrings. Not sure about a bandana headband. Might be overkill. I’ll have to test that out.
” I ran my index finger around the cap of my water bottle.
“Noah suggested I meet the ex at the market.”
“He wants to keep an eye on things,” Jaime said.
“How did you know?”
She scoffed. “Have you met your husband? Really, doll. He’s gonna pelt that son of a bitch with apples and run him right out of the market. Chase that motherfucker down the street.”
I started to disagree but then I realized Noah would do that. He wouldn’t think twice about it. He might enjoy it.
“How about we have a gathering, a get-together, a little meet her new man party? Something easy and low-key here at the apartment. Just a few people from school and the girls.”
The girls were Jaime’s roommates. Layla, Dylan, and Linnie. “I’d love that,” I replied. “Noah will have to be convinced to love that. He can be a little shy.”
“We’ll make sure he feels right at home.”
“By referring to him as Daddy Bread Baker? I don’t think so. He’ll throw me over his shoulder and run right out of there. I’m telling you, he’s done it before.”
“Why hasn’t anyone thrown me over their shoulder?” she asked. “I’m down for that. Pick me up, toss me around, treat me like a rag doll. Yes, sir . Give me some of that.”
“You’re on a sex hiatus,” I said.
“Oh, right.”
“No one is treating you like a rag doll until next month at the earliest.”
“Thankfully, I’m busy planning a party and I won’t notice the shortage of sex in my life,” she said. “Hey, are we all right?”
“Of course,” I replied. “Why?”
“Because I couldn’t give you the sandwich.
Because I said your ex wasn’t the one and I knew it from the start.
Because I was going to let you marry him, even if it broke my heart.
” She made a pained sound. “You know I’m never getting married and I’m the last person in the world to end up in a committed relationship but you’ll stop me if I end up with the wrong person. Right?”
Tears blurred my gaze. “What if you tell me I don’t know that person or your relationship? What if you don’t talk to me for five days—or longer? What should I do if it seems like you’ll choose them over me?”
“I’m gonna need you to slap me,” she said simply. “Just haul off and give me a head-snapping slap.”