Chapter 43 Rachel
Currently playing: With a Little Help from My Friends, The Beatles
Adam: I’m going to stay at Crew’s for a few days to give you some space. I do love you. I’m sorry.
It was odd when you knew the exact moment a new emotion had entered your brain. At that single text, I felt boiling rage, and yet I also felt this tinge of guilt alongside it. Because I was basically—temporarily—kicking this man out of his house. Plus, I felt grief. Grief for the loss of what we had before. Back when I was ignorant to the giant red flag sitting in front of me.
The logical part of my brain knew Adam wouldn’t purposefully hurt me. Grumpy as he was, that man was a teddy bear. And over the years, he’d shown how he cared for me in all of these little actions. And I believed in them with my whole heart. I just didn’t know there were secrets behind those little actions, whether they were meant to be good or not.
I tried to calm my racing heart, tried to casually toss my phone to the floor beside me and not dissect every word in his text. I tried to turn on a record—Snow Patrol, specifically—and lie back on the hard floor in my Snuggie and drown out all of my bewildering emotions. But every corner of this house was haunted with memories of him. Our Polaroids were still stuck to the fridge. His shoes were aligned at the door. Myrtle sat in her jar in the cabinet, practically begging me to tell her where her dad was. Not really, but I imagined that she would be. But above all, right on the kitchen counter, sat my race belt with my number still attached.
I hated that he’d taken that away from me. That this beautiful core memory was now going to forever be associated with this morning. With the lies and the deceit. No, maybe he hadn’t lied to me outright, but he’d hidden things from me. Big, giant things that were life-altering. I have an investment with too many monthly expenses. Gosh, I was so stupid. An investment. What did I think he was investing in? Watches? Sour straws? His favorite old western films? Come on.
With my head on the floor, I heard four firm knocks at the door, and I shot up.
Adam wouldn’t knock at his own house…right? Whether it was just me here or not.
I turned the volume down on my record player and listened, waiting for anything additional. I was met with silence. Maybe it was just USPS dropping off self-help books to guide Adam through what keeping secrets does to a deeply rooted friendship-slash-marriage. One could dream.
“Rach?” a familiar voice called. “You in there?”
My heart rate slowed back to a somewhat normal pace, and my shoulders relaxed. Layla. Thank God.
I ran to the door, even more grateful when I pulled it open.
Layla, Calla, and Marigold all stood there smiling at me, and I swore that at that sight alone, I was fully prepared to break down crying all over again.
“We thought you might need some company.” Layla smiled.
I sniffled and nodded, talking in the most wobbly I’m-def-about-to-cry-all-over-you-guys voice. “Please.”
“Oh, Rachel.” Marigold’s brows dipped sympathetically as she leaned in for a hug. Only her tummy got in the way, so we did more of a belly-bump than an actual embrace. She moved behind me, and Calla and Layla each hugged me too. That alone instantly made me feel better.
We all settled in around the couch. Calla opened a bottle of wine and handed us each a glass—except Marigold. She was drinking coconut water out of a wine glass so she could feel included.
“We were at Romfuzzled earlier, and Adam came in. I didn’t stay to hear the story, but he looked absolutely torn apart,” Marigold said with a sip of her drink.
Why didn’t that make me feel better? If I was upset with him, beyond upset, then I should’ve been over the moon at the thought of Adam Wells looking a mess. But deep down, my love for him outweighed my anger, even at this moment. That only made me angrier, because that made my heart a really inconsiderate turd.
“What happened?” Calla asked.
My shoulders slumped as I shared the story. Or at least as much of the story as I could. Wasn’t like I’d given him any time to explain.
“Let me get this straight. Adam basically bought the store for you before you guys were even actual friends?” Layla asked. All three of them were on the edge of their seats, staring at me in bewilderment.
“Well, not exactly.” I winced. This was the part that made me entirely hypocritical. I hated how much Adam had kept from me, but hadn’t I just done the same to them? In their eyes, Adam and I had gone from practically strangers to married in a single night. Then we’d stayed married for government benefits. I’d kept this huge secret from every single one of them. Not only that, but any time he came up, I purposefully changed the subject to avoid the talk at all costs.
My eyes started to tear up at the reminder of how wrong I’d been for the last few years. How awful of a friend that made me.
“I knew Adam before I met him through you guys.” I sucked in a breath and spat the rest of my explanation out like a podcast put on 2x speed. “We actually hooked up like almost four years ago, and then he came to the record store like a week later. I was going to ask him out, but Layla, you came in, and I realized you knew him through Luke. It immediately felt weird, so we agreed to not do anything about it. Then I got his number from your phone, and we started texting and hanging out without your family. We ignored our attraction for a while, which was really hard, ’cause that man is so fine—sorry, Calla. And then at Layla and Luke’s wedding, when I was supposed to go grab the touch-up bag, I met him in the hallway, and he kissed me. Like a lot. I knew it was because my boobs were all huge in that bridesmaid dress, but I didn’t want to tell anyone, because it was your night. Then in Vegas, we somehow ended up getting drunk and then at a chapel and things went from there and now—”
“Rachel.” Layla put a hand on my knee and leaned in. “Breathe, girl. It’s okay.”
My chest shook as tears were quickly falling down my face. “It’s not okay. I’ve been a really awful friend to all of you.”
All three girls started shaking their heads, each saying some form of “no, you aren’t” or “why would you think that?” But I shook my head back at them.
“I am. I haven’t been there for you guys in years. Not in the right way. I think, deep down, it’s because I felt so guilty about the whole Adam thing. But there wasn’t a good way to tell you guys.”
Marigold handed me a tissue and tried to sit by my feet. But then she groaned about her sciatica and sat on the couch.
I sniffled and continued. “Layla, I’m really sorry I made out with your new brother-in-law at your wedding.”
She laughed, but there was sadness behind it, like she was holding back her tears too.
“And I’m sorry I’ve lied to you guys. I just liked him a lot, and I thought it would make things weird here. And then we told my Dad, and now he calls me Mrs. Wells, and I can’t imagine how confused he would be if we get a divorce—”
“Divorce? Oh, Rach.” Calla scooted her butt closer to me, lifting a hand to twirl my hair. “Is that what you want?”
When I thought about it, truly considered it, no. Not at all. These last few months had been some of the best in my life, and I could only contribute that to Adam. Getting a divorce would be taking all of those things away from me, physically and mentally. But I was just so…mad. I felt played and wronged in every type of way. And I still couldn’t wrap my brain around why. Why, why, why?
“No. Not really,” I said honestly. “But if he doesn’t actually love me, then what other choice do I have?”
Layla snorted on the other side of me. “You think that man doesn’t love you?”
“No. Not when he lied to me for so long. I don’t know how he could.”
They stayed quiet, clearly disagreeing with me, but I still felt in my bones that it was wrong. I was mad, but mostly sad, and I wanted to cling to old memories that now felt meaningless. It sucked.
“I think,” Calla slowly started. “He had good intentions. I mean, the man sold his partnership with Romfuzzled to buy it. For you. I just think he went about it the wrong way. Maybe if you guys could sit down and talk, he could explain.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure it would help to talk. But honestly, the last thing I want right now is to see him.” Maybe not the last thing, but still, it was low on the list.
Marigold leaned her back against the couch. “What if you go visit your dad tomorrow? Get out of this house and just hang out with him. It seems to always help you.”
A corner of my lip pulled up. “Yeah, I think I will.”
“Well, until then, let’s go un-organize Adam’s closet and hide all of his left shoes.” Calla stood, and we all laughed and followed.
That night alone made me realize that maybe some people were bound to leave you, but the ones who stuck with you were the only ones worth having. So maybe I’d done something right in life after.