3. Kayla
3
KAYLA
“L ooks like a snow storm,” Steve says, his eyes tracking me as I get ready to go somewhere—anywhere—without him.
“Don’t care,” I say, pulling a sweatshirt over my tank and checking my reflection in the mirror. My phone pings and I grab it.
Britanya
Hey Mom! You sure you don’t want to come to the bachelorette party?
I love you, but no. I don’t need to see all that.
Britanya
Haha okay. Lunch tomorrow ahead of mani-pedis, right?
Absolutely. See you tomorrow!
Britanya
Love you!
I put the phone down and shove my feet back into my boots, grateful I’d thought long and hard about exactly what to pack for this trip. I probably thought too long about it, but that was a hard habit to break. Once I got pregnant, I’d over-thought everything, especially since Steve wasn’t about to do any thinking.
“Where are you going?” he asks now.
I shrug. “Maybe the book store, maybe just a walk. I don’t know.”
“Want company?”
“No.” The word comes out harsher than I intended. “Sorry. No,” I say, gentling the response. “I just…” I stop, not wanting to hurt his feelings. Which is ridiculous, seeing as how it was me not wanting to hurt his feelings that kept us together as long as it did. But it’s been two years. I shouldn’t have to care about his feelings anymore.
“Want to be anywhere that I’m not,” he says, smiling amiably at me. “I get it. We’ll have plenty of forced time together during the wedding, right?”
I blink. Maybe he’s figuring it out after all. “Right.” Without another word, I grab my coat and purse, and leave.
The bookstore is perfection, but it seems way more crowded than a normal bookstore might be. I head to the romance section, which is impressively robust, and browse for a while. After making my purchases, I head to a coffee shop, then wander in and out of some cute little shops.
Around five, the sky is dark and all the shops are brightly lit and stuffed with customers. My stomach growls, reminding me that I’ve not had much of anything to eat, so I find a spot to duck into. Heading to the bar, I slide onto a stool and order a drink and a burger.
“There you are!”
My stomach sinks as Steve drops onto the stool next to me. “Why are you here?” I practically whine.
“Because I needed food, and it’s hard to break an early-dinner habit when someone had me eating before six for two decades,” he says cheerily. His blond hair catches the red and blue of the beer signs behind the bar, and I swear to myself that I’m done with blonds. Forever and ever, amen.
We order. “Separate checks,” I insist to the bartender, who nods.
Three beers in, Steve gets sloppy. And Sloppy Steve is not someone I want to be around. “Come on, Kales,” he cajoles. “One roll in the hay for old time’s sake?”
I gape at him. “Wow, Steve. You’re really bringing your A game tonight.”
He smiles, a puppy mistaking the words for praise. “We’re already sharing a room.”
“No,” I state flatly. “A thousand times no.”
His hand falls to my leg, heavy and warm, but the flutter his touch used to bring is nowhere to be found. Instead, a simmering rage is in its place. “I will punch you if you don’t move your hand.”
He pulls it back and scowls prettily. “Sorry. Jeez. I just thought?—”
“You thought wrong,” I say. “Like always.”
Beneath the haze of alcohol, his eyes go cold. “Got it. Forgot I was dealing with the Ice Queen there for a minute.”
I stand, having already paid for my tab and ready to get the hell away from him. My phone buzzes.
Abby
Hi Mama Long, I think you should totally come to the bachelorette party because you’re just as fun as the rest of us and Britanya won’t say it but I think she’s sad you’re not here.
I chuckle.
“Can you at least give me a ride back to the lodge?” Steve says.
I grab my purse off the hook beneath the bar and stride away from him without a backward glance. “Fuck off, Steve.”
Outside the bar, I consider the text. If I have to look at Steve for one more second, I really might murder him.
Kayla
You’ve convinced me. Send me the address.
Instantly, Abby responds with a pin to her location. I hop into my rental SUV, turning on the wipers against the snow that’s beginning to fall.