It’s almost midnight and I can’t sleep. My mind has been reeling with Leah’s revelation and her advice. It’s almost impossible to imagine Cole cheating on Leah. He’s loved her since high school. I wasn’t really close to Leah when the events she told us about were going down. Jessie was in Arizona and because of the fight between her and Jordan we’d kind of stopped hanging around the Garrisons. We were still friends with Leah, but she was off at Yale, and when she was home, we saw her sporadically at parties or the lake but didn’t hang out all that often. Callie was busy working and taking community college classes and I was busy with high school stuff. Looking at them now, if she hadn’t told me herself, I wouldn’t believe that they had ever gone through that. They were happy and in love—stronger in their bond than I’d ever seen them. Could Luc and I be like that? Could we be perfect together again if I just let this go? And how do I do that?
I finally give up on sleep and change out of my pajamas into jeans and an old oversized sweatshirt. After pulling my hair into a knot, I unplug my phone from its charger on the nightstand and quietly leave my room and head downstairs.
Out on the porch I sit on the steps and take a deep breath of the cool night air. I stare at the barn. It’s basically finished. Callie and I are going to move into it tomorrow. It’s a beautiful little apartment but I miss waking up by the lake, in Luc’s arms. Despite everything, I still want Luc. So how do I move past what happened? I guess I just… try.
I stare at the stars twinkling in the inky sky as I hit the first number on my speed dial.
“Rosie?” His voice isn’t sleepy; it’s just filled with disbelief.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
I pause. How do I start this? What can I say? “I’m still really hurt.”
“I would do anything to change that.”
“You can’t,” I reply and I finally let myself realize that. “But I can.”
He’s silent for a long minute. His breathing is shallow and fast. I open my mouth to speak but he cuts me off.
“Rosie, don’t give up on me. I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I swear to God I would never knowingly—” He stops and takes a ragged breath. “You can’t end this. Please. Because I won’t be able to leave you. I can’t. It’ll kill me.”
“I’m going to try and forgive you, Luc,” I say softly but like it’s an oath. A promise—to myself more than to him.
“You are?”
“Yeah. It’s all I can do,” I explain and close my eyes. “I’m not ready to leave you.”
“Fleur, you don’t know how much that means to me.”
“But, Luc, I don’t know how this is going to go,” I warn him calmly. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to… I mean, I can’t just jump back to the way things were. I’ll need time.”
“Okay. Yeah. Whatever you need, just tell me.”
“I don’t know what I need. I just… it’s going to be slow,” I explain.
“I understand.” His voice is lighter. It has hope. “Rose, I know I’ve never told you before but I need you to know I—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hang up before he can finish that sentence. I know what he’s going to say and I don’t want to hear it like this—out of guilt and anguish.
I stare at the sky for a few more minutes and then go back inside and grab Jessie’s keys off the hook just inside the door. A few seconds later I’m driving toward town.
Silver Bay is a small town, so I’d seen Tasha around before Adam started dating her. She was Callie’s age. Last summer I’d seen her working at a restaurant in town called the Captain’s Galley. It was a seafood place that I ocassionally liked to grab take-out lobster rolls from.
Ten minutes later I swing open the heavy wood door of Captain’s Galley and step into the dark, kitschy interior. Tasha is wiping down a big round table near the front. The place is getting ready to close; there are no customers. She looks up, mouth open, ready to tell me the kitchen is closed, but she doesn’t speak when she realizes it’s me.
“I need to talk to your friend,” I say simply. “Tell me where to find her.”
“Oh.” Tasha falters and drops the rag in the middle of the table. She glances to her left, where the bar is, before looking back at me. “I just want you to know I didn’t know she was going to do that. I never would have let her. But in her defense, no one knew he was seeing anyone.”
I don’t answer. I just follow her wide, nervous eyes as they slide toward the bar area again and I see someone blur by from the back. It’s Bri, in the same white shirt and black skirt as Tasha. She moves behind the bar and starts clearing some glasses left behind by the last patrons. I leave Tasha and march right over to her. There are three glasses in front of her: an empty martini glass, a half-empty wineglass and a tall curved glass filled halfway with a blue frothy beverage. She sees me coming. She doesn’t even look surprised or scared.
“I guess I don’t have to ask what you want,” she says dryly.
Before she can say another word, I reach for the abandoned blue drink and toss it in her face. She lets out a squeal as the bright blue liquid covers her face and stains her white shirt.
“Fuck you,” I spit out and turn and retrace my steps toward the front door.
Tasha is wide-eyed, both hands in front of her face as she tries to hide her grin.
“You don’t even know what happened!” Bri screams after me.
I spin back around and wish I had another drink to throw. “I don’t care what happened. I love him. He loves me. Even if you fucked him, that doesn’t change anything.”
“He said your name,” she whimpers and wipes at her face with a pile of cocktail napkins.
I freeze. I don’t want to freeze. I don’t want to hear what she has to say. I’ve decided I don’t care if he slept with her or not, but I want to do what Leah says and believe he didn’t. I don’t want to know that he did. Yet my legs stop moving.
“He started nuzzling my neck and I started to pull off his underwear.” She takes a ragged breath.
“Stop,” I say and turn back to face her. “Stop talking or I will fucking hit you.”
“But then he said your name,” she continues, ignoring my warning. “And I just… I stopped.”
“You stopped.” I repeat the words because they don’t feel real.
“He’s rich and hot and he’s a rock star in this town,” she says, like the puck bunny she is. “I wanted him to want me, but he didn’t. And I’m not pathetic enough to fuck a guy who thinks I’m someone else.”
“But you are pathetic enough to lie in bed with my boyfriend and let me think you fucked him,” I counter, still not forgiving her despite her tears and humiliation. “You saw me standing there and you didn’t say a word.”
“And now I don’t regret that choice,” she snaps back. She gives up blotting the blue drink from her shirt and throws the napkins into the sink in front of her. “Just get out before I call the cops.”
“I’ll go,” I agree and nod. “But if you ever try something like this again, I’ll ruin more than your shirt.”
I storm out of the restaurant to the sound of Tasha snickering.