Chapter 25 A Wicked Witch
A Wicked Witch
— T HREE M ONTHS UNTIL A MELIE’S W EDDING —
The upbeat ringtone of my phone distracts me from my conversation with one of the busboys. As I glance down at the screen, my brows furrow. “Excuse me,” I say, leaving the kitchen.
Ian is calling me. That’s weird. He’s never called out of nowhere; it usually starts off with us texting and one of us getting tired of typing. Most of the time, him.
“What happened?” I ask, skipping Hello or How are you? If he’s calling with no notice, I know how he is, and it’s not good.
“Hey.” His voice—I’ve never heard it like that. Soft, almost fragile.
“What’s going on?” I breathe.
“I’m—it’s been a shitty day. I needed to hear your—”
“I’m here,” I rush to say.
Ian’s never needed me, not until today. I, on the other hand, seem to depend on him for my mental stability. At every turn, through thick and thin, he’s been my shoulder to cry on for the past few months. It’s my turn to shine, and I’ll be damned if at the end of this conversation he isn’t smiling.
“How was your day?” he asks in a dull voice.
“My day was long. Not as long as yours, though, from the sound of it.”
He grunts, then there’s the noise of keys and a door opening. He must have called on his way home. “Work was shit. People-screaming-in-my-ears-all-day shit.”
“I’ve got the perfect remedy for that, and it involves a pizza, a bubble bath, and a vibrator.” When he chuckles, I whisper, “At the same time.”
“Damn. I think I left my good vibrator at work.”
Staring out of the window of La Brasserie, I ask, “What can I do to help?”
“Tell me where you are, what you’re doing, what you’re wearing. Everything.”
“ What I’m wearing? ” I mock. “Getting a little creepy.”
“I thought you were supposed to cheer me up.”
“I’m home, about to enter the tub, and taking off my sexy nurse uniform.”
He hisses. “Damn, Amelie, that might cheer me up too much.”
I laugh loudly enough to get Jeremy’s attention as he enters the kitchen, then I quickly turn around and say, “I’m at work, about to start my shift. And I’m wearing what I always wear to work: leggings and a T-shirt. This one says, I’m not as think as you drunk I am. ”
“Shoes?”
“Converse.”
“Hair?”
“Pulled back with pins, actually.”
He releases a deep, heavy sigh. “Beautiful Amelie.”
I roll my eyes. My outfit is the most unimpressive set of clothes I could have described, but the way he says that— beautiful Amelie— is so honest. So heartfelt.
“I—I did something stupid.”
My muscles tense up as I rest my back against the window, my mind filling with disastrous possibilities. “Okay. What’s that?”
“I let my ex talk me into going on a date.”
“Your ex?” I ask, my heartbeat quickening.
“Yeah,” he says with a joyless chuckle. “She asked and… I don’t know, I guess I felt lonely, and when she kissed me—”
“You kissed ?”
“Mm-hmm.”
Oh. My body is licked by heat as a roaring fire bursts in my stomach. He kissed someone. Ian kissed a woman. Of course he did: we’re not together. In fact, I’m pretty sure he sleeps around plenty. But now I know for sure his lips touched someone else’s lips, and my insides turn into a knot.
“Which ex? What—”
“My only ex.”
My eyes widen, my back tensing as I think of his fairy tale. The princess who’s actually a witch and the ogre who took her away. He can’t mean he’s considering a date with Ella, can he? It can’t be her he kissed. Not after she cheated on him two months before their wedding—and with his best friend! “You—no. Why are you even in contact, Ian?”
“Because of work. She needed a job, and… well, after fighting with my dad for what felt like eleven hundred hours, we hired her. It’s just temporary.”
“Well, it sounds like you should have listened to your father.”
There’s an undertone of annoyance as he mumbles, “No, I shouldn’t have. Since my mom died, he’s obsessively overprotective. I’m not a fucking kid: I can work with my ex and not propose to her again.”
Can he?
When he notices my silence, he clicks his tongue. “It’s just a date, Amelie.”
My foot taps nervously on the floor. I’ll admit I’m a little jealous— a lot jealous—but it isn’t the main issue I have with this. Ian might easily be the best person I’ve ever met, and he should find someone as good as he is, not a woman who shattered his heart. Not one who betrayed him. “Do you have feelings for her?”
“Yes,” he says with a laugh. “A few of them are really nasty. Most of them are just moderately negative.”
I slap my thigh. “Then why would you go on a date with her?”
“Because… because I feel lonely, Amelie. Because the holidays are only a few weeks away, and you’re about to get married, and I will never get married, and I felt lonely for a fucking minute.”
I set my hand on my hip and sigh. “Ian, if you want a girlfriend or to get married, there’s a million women who’d love to say yes. Find another one.”
“Marriage is a scam, Amelie. I don’t want to get married and I don’t want a girlfriend either,” he says. “It’s just a moment of loneliness. Things will be different soon, once you’re married. We’re not going to talk as much. You’re not going to be…” He sighs. “I don’t know. It’ll just be different.”
I frown, the awareness he feels this way slapping me across the face. I hadn’t even considered it, but I guess he’s right. Things will have to change. I’ve let Frank believe that there’s more than friendship going on between Ian and me—much more—so, according to the rules I set, I won’t be able to keep talking to him.
No, Amelie, focus. This isn’t about me. It’s about him.
Tucking the painful thought away, I clear my throat. “It’s time to end your crusade against relationships, Ian. Sharing your life with someone is a beautiful thing.”
“Is it? Is it a beautiful thing to share your life with Frank?”
I purse my lips. “I’m not saying relationships aren’t difficult. There are periods in which—”
“Periods? This period has been going on since before we met.”
“We’re not discussing me and Frank right now.”
“Why not? Let’s,” he says with a firm voice. “When we checked out that band for your wedding you said something was wrong, and boy, were you right.” He exhales sharply. “Your fiancé doesn’t care. You’re the last of his priorities, and he’s the one stopping you from making your dream come true. How is that better than what Ella did?”
“So, because you believe I’m in an unhappy relationship, you’ll be single forever.”
In the silence that follows, my heart aches. I hate that he thinks that. How he has such a low opinion of my relationship; how he’d condemn himself to a life of loneliness.
“Look, I want to go on a date, have a chat, do something fun. Maybe end up having sex.” He snickers. “And Ella might be the worst possible person to do it with, but she’s here . She knows nothing will come out of it. Really, there’s no harm.”
I blink furiously, trying to stop myself from tearing up. If he truly believed that, this conversation wouldn’t have started as it did. “Ian, I’m your friend, so I’ll support whatever decision you make. But I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t tell you what a dumb idea this is.”
“Duly noted.” He sighs.
“She doesn’t deserve you.”
“Agreed.”
“Any other woman in the world would be thrilled to go on a date with you.”
“I don’t know about every single one of them, but thanks.”
“ Ian. ”
“ Amelie. ”
I press my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. I should drop this, I know. After all, if he’s convinced this is what he wants, there isn’t much I can do. And it’s not like I’m in any way an expert on functional relationships. The most stable and satisfying relationship in my life is with Ian, a man I’ve met twice.
“Fine,” I say with a dramatic sweep of my hand. “If there’s no one in this world you’d rather spend your time with, then go on a date with Ella. Have the chat, the fun, the sex.” Barb enters from the backdoor, waving at me with a grin, and I quickly wave back. “I have to go.”
“Of course there is.”
“Huh?”
“Of course there is someone in this world I’d rather spend my time with. The person I spend most of my time with.”
I stand still, silent. He’s talking about me, isn’t he? It must be: he’s the person I spend most of my time talking to.
“You might know her. She’s beautiful, stupidly lonely, and relentless in her goal to keep Ella away from me.”
“Because Ella’s a wart-nosed witch,” I spit out.
“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Are you sure there’s no other reason?”
My body temperature rises until my cheeks are hot enough to fry an egg on them. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says dryly. “Then I’ll go on that date and watch out for spells and magic wands.”
“Great,” I bark.
“Awesome.”
“Well, my shift is about to start, so…” I look toward the kitchen. “Have fun with Ella, and don’t turn your back on her at family gatherings. She might go for your dad next.”
“Text me when you’re home safe.”
“I think I won’t.”
“Amelie…”
“Bye.” I hang up and shove my phone into my pocket. After walking past the kitchen and locking myself in the bathroom, I stare at my reflection, trying to get my facial muscles to loosen up and look less devastated.
I know I’m being unreasonable. I’m doing the exact opposite of what I should do. My role as Ian’s friend is to warn him and advise him, not to control his life. If he’s decided a date with Ella is what he wants, I should support him.
But I can’t. I can hardly think of him kissing another woman, let alone one who hurt him. One who doesn’t deserve him.
After taking out my phone, I type a text. Sorry. Then I delete it. I’m with you no matter what. I delete that too. I’ll just text him when I’m home to let him know everything’s fine.
Once I leave the bathroom and begin my shift, I burn the first plate of scallops as Ian’s words keep replaying in my head. He said he’d rather go on a date with me than with Ella, and it should worry me. It should constrict my chest with anxiety that he’s picturing more than a friendship with me. As should the fact that I’m incredibly jealous of his date.
But this is the first time we’ve fought—the first time we’ve hung up on such a sour note—and when Barb stops me from almost burning the scallops a second time, I leave the food in her hands and shout, “I need five,” as I exit the kitchen. Standing in the same spot by the window, I tap on his contact and start the call.
“Hey,” he says, his voice even sadder than before. My one goal was to cheer him up, dammit.
“Come on a date with me.”
“What?”
I clear my throat, ignoring the pounding of my heart. “There won’t be any sex, of course. And it’d be a friendly date, not a romantic one. I guess we could call it hanging out.”
“Let’s call it a date.”
“A friendly date,” I insist.
With a chuckle, he asks, “Do you mean it?”
I fidget with the stone on my engagement ring. “Yeah. I mean, I can’t take days off right now, but—”
“I’ll come there.”
My brows shoot up. “But—”
“I’ll drive. It’s fine.”
“Ian, you do get it’s only a friendly thing, right? There wouldn’t be any… funny business? Just dinner or a drink?”
“Is Frank coming?”
I fight really hard not to laugh. Frank? No. Frank isn’t coming. Frank will be informed of this date the moment we agree to it, and he will most definitely not be aware of the “friendly” addendum.
Of course, Ian won’t get the full truth either. I don’t trust what he’d do if he knew I’m technically allowed to sleep with him. If he dials up the charisma a notch, I’m afraid I just might. “No, I don’t think he’d want to come.” My eyes narrow. “But he can if he wants to.”
“I get it. No funny business, just dinner. A friendly date.”
My body tingles with adrenaline. I can’t believe he’s serious about this, but he seems considerably more chipper than he was before, so who am I to argue? “And you won’t go on a date with Ella?”
“I’ll cancel on her right now.”
I can’t help but smile. Though there’s certainly some jealousy at play, I mean it. If he were with a good person—a woman who loves him and deserves him—I’d be the first one to cheer them on. I know I have no claim on Ian. But Ella? I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t do everything in my power to stop him from getting hurt again. “Okay. We have a deal.”
“Next Friday.”
“ Next Friday?” I shriek.
“Yes, next Friday. Until then, I have work.”
“Ian—”
“No funny business, just a friendly date. I promise.”
“Okay.” I have to cover my mouth with my hand to conceal my broad smile. “Friday.”
“Great. I’ll see you soon, then.”
“You’re crazy.”
It sounds as if he’s smiling as broadly as I am as he says, “Text me when you’re home safe.”