Chapter 10
The moment our eyes connected from across the café, Pierce rose from his seat.
When I met him in college, I thought he was handsome. Sandy blond hair, bright blue eyes. Tall. Broad shoulders.
He played rugby. He came from a good family. He ticked every box.
Back then, I convinced myself those were the only things that mattered. And he’d been nice to me.
Right now, though? He looked thinner, gaunt.
I hated that my first thought was he probably wasn’t eating enough. Dark circles had settled beneath his eyes, likely from too many sleepless nights.
Another irritating tug of guilt settled in my chest.
Pierce started toward me, opening his arms like he intended to go in for a hug.
Instinctively, both of my hands came up and he froze.
For just a second, something that looked a lot like hurt crossed his face before he recovered. He cleared his throat and awkwardly offered me his hand instead.
I shook it. Briefly.
“You’re looking really good, Abby.” His eyes drifted over me as he added, “Wow.”
I had gone all out on my makeup that morning. Curled my hair into soft waves. Wore a pretty red pencil dress that turned my ass from an 8 to a 10.
There wasn’t any real reason for it.
...
Except I’d stupidly hoped Nicola might surprise me and show up for lunch.
Instead, I was stuck with this asshole.
When I didn’t respond to his compliment, Pierce gestured toward the corner table. “Sit. Please.”
He smiled awkwardly as we slid into the small table, facing each other. “I got you a caramel latte. You still like those, right?”
My eyes dropped to the paper cup waiting for me. Huh. He remembered.
Gently, I nudged it a few inches away before folding my hands together on the tabletop. “Tell me what this is about.”
Pierce lifted his own coffee and took a sip. A little foam mustache appeared on his upper lip.
“I just wanted to talk.” He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s all.”
“About?”
“You.” He shrugged. “Work. How you’re doing.”
My eyebrows lowered and I frowned. “You told me you were having a hard time and that you needed something. So tell me what you’re really after.”
His shoulders sagged.
“I’m clean. I’ve been clean for eight months. I’ve been going to meetings.” His fingers fidgeted with his coffee cup. “And… fuck, Abby. I hurt you. And I feel horrible.”
“Uh-huh.” I glanced down at my folded hands. “Not badly enough to stop cashing those alimony checks.”
He winced. “Listen, it was the lawyer’s job to be cutthroat. I didn’t tell him to attack your character.”
“I didn’t hear you stop him, either.” My voice stayed remarkably calm. “And by that same logic, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault you stuck your dick in your secretary, either.”
I leaned forward. “But that happened too, didn’t it? So stop screwing around. I know you want something, Pierce. So tell me what it is.”
He simply stared, wide-eyed. Almost… terrified.
Jesus. Maybe I’d spent too much time around mafiosos.
After he took a brief moment to recover, he spoke again. “You took care of me. I was so fucked up, I didn’t even realize what I had.”
His eyes met mine. “I didn’t appreciate you. I didn’t deserve you. And I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, but not because it erased anything. It didn’t. But because… he actually sounded sober. And I believed him.
I rubbed my forehead. “Okay. So, you said there were two things. You wanted to say you're sorry. I’ll… mull that over. What was the second thing?”
His throat bobbed. “...Will you see me again?”
Another surprise blow. “What?”
“I was thinking, maybe we could be friends again?” He smiled weakly.
My head immediately started shaking. “No. No, no, no.”
“What?”
“Are you fucking insane?” I leaned toward him, lowering my voice. “You don’t get to play a fucking Reverse Uno card because your brain isn’t full of cocaine anymore!”
“I’m not trying to! Look, my dad won’t talk to me," he began counting off his fingers. "My brothers won’t answer my calls. My sister cut me off. I… I screwed over every friend I ever had.”
He looked down into his coffee. “You’re the only person I knew who might still talk to me.”
There it was. the old instinct. The little voice inside me that wanted to help. And fix. To make them feel less alone.
I hated that it was still there. That I was feeling it for him. I closed my eyes.
“What about the secretary? Uh, Miranda?”
“...Marissa.” He corrected, then gave a humorless laugh. “That was nothing. She left when I got clean.”
Well, there was karma in the universe after all, I supposed. I reached for my latte and took a cautious sip.
“I added a few sugars,” Pierce said hopefully. “You still like it that sweet?”
I licked the foam from my lip. “Yeah, it’s good. Thanks.”
The relief on his face was almost painful to look at. For just a second, I caught a glimpse of the goofy college boy I’d married before drugs had hollowed him out.
“So… how’s your dad doing?”
“Still sick.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t dealing with all that alone.” His stare became intense, imploring. “Um, are you seeing anyone?”
“It’s complicated.” I thought of the don’s ring sitting in my purse, and smiled despite myself.
If I asked Nicola whether we were a couple, he’d probably take his chances and launch himself out of a second-story window.
Pierce watched me quietly for a moment before clearing his throat. “Hey. Do you remember what you told me on our first date?”
I lifted an eyebrow. “No?”
“You told me something bad had happened to your last boyfriend.”
An unexpected dread filled the base of my stomach.
“You said all you wanted was a normal life where you were safe. A little house, a white picket fence. Three kids. The American dream or whatever. And I told you I wanted that, too.”
A lump formed in my throat. “What are you bringing that up for?”
“Because...” He shrugged helplessly. “I’ve been looking back at everything, where I screwed up, where things were good.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “And I keep thinking about the way you said safe. I don’t think I really understood what you meant, back then. I think… someone scared you.”
“They did,” I answered softly.
Pierce waited and I exhaled with my eyes shut.
“One of my oldest friends didn’t approve of the guy I was seeing. Um, and he went behind my back and… hurt him.”
Pierce’s entire expression fell.
“Jesus, Abby.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
A sad laugh escaped me. “I tried.”
His eyebrows knit together, not following. I looked up.
“I told you I wanted a normal life. That wasn’t me being poetic. I wanted the little two-story house. The nice lawn. A stupid dog. Kids. I wanted all of it.”
Pierce looked like he was finally seeing something he’d somehow missed our entire marriage.
“I thought...” he said quietly. “I thought you just meant stability. Money.”
“I did.” I nodded. “But I also meant...”
I searched for the right word, and frowned when I realized Nicola had said it first: “Peace.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment, and finally I looked back up.
“You and I didn’t get there. And I’m not going to pretend that’s entirely your fault. But if we’re distributing blame percentages...” I gave a small shrug. “You get most of it.”
“Yeah. That’s fair.” He stared down into his coffee. “It’s part of recovery, owning up to what you did. And I guess, I just wanted to understand you better.”
“What good does that do us now?”
He looked weary. I’m sure it wore a person down, constantly being told he was a fuck-up. “I don’t know. I just hoped we could, um, start over. As friends.”