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I scoffed out loud as I approached the side door of the bar. How ridiculous was it to reminisce on days that felt so slow, so insignificant at the time? Days when Marigold and I had stopped talking. Yeah, marriage had been tough, but loneliness was miserable.
The old wooden door creaked on its hinges so loudly the vibrations worked their way through my fingertips and up my arm. I needed a beer and family. That was the answer.
Only as I stepped into Romfuzzled, the sound of my shoes tapping on the original hardwoods was drowned out by a laugh. Beautiful, infectious, warm. An absolute symphony that caused an ache in my chest and comforted my mind. I knew that laugh. I’d spent years doing anything I could to be the cause of it. Be the recipient of that joy. Tossing notes in class that said her butt looked good in her flare jeans. Dancing like an idiot to make her smile on hard nights. Telling stupid jokes while she was in labor to take her mind off the pain.
My entire universe used to revolve around that laugh.
It’d be a lie if I said I didn’t miss it.
I couldn’t take credit for causing it this time. I didn’t know that I’d ever get the honor again. The closest thing to a laugh I’d elicited from her was that all smug smile she’d sent me when she realized what I’d assumed about her and Paul. Gah, what I would do to erase that memory from my head. Since that day, my brain had been reminding me of my stupidity at every inconvenient moment and especially when I was trying to sleep.
Down at the end of the bar, next to Layla, Calla, and Rachel, was my ex-wife. She had her head thrown back, and tears of joy were spilling from her green eyes. Calla was mid-story, waving her hands wildly, mimicking what, from here, looked like a guy with a baseball bat. Then she was frowning and affecting a deeper tone of voice. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but it had all the women in stitches. Especially Marigold.
Good. Someone ought to make the cranky woman laugh.
I took in her white T-shirt and denim shorts, an outfit I swore she’d owned since high school. She was timeless in a way no one else I’d ever met could pull off.
“Hey, brother.” I turned at the greeting, coming face to face with Adam and Nathan. They were sitting in a large round booth on their own.
I dipped my chin and headed their way, even if my body and my heart were being pulled in another direction. The loud voices and laughter slowly ebbed, becoming gentle whispers and hushed tones.
That could only mean one thing. At least one of them had noticed my presence.
It had been six and a half years, and we were still doing this. Still making awkward eye contact, still surrounded by whispers, like our friends and family were waiting for one or both of us to explode. I mostly ignored it, but if her frowns and huffs were anything to go by, it annoyed her. In turn, I couldn’t help but smile, knowing I could still get under her skin.
Forcing thoughts of Marigold out of my head, I slid into the seat across from Nathan.
He cleared his throat and dropped his elbows to the table. “What’s going on with you this week?”
I shrugged. “Not much. Just work.”
My job probably seemed boring to most people. I couldn’t say I’d ever dreamed of becoming the head of a financial department for a large company when I was a kid. But I liked what I did. The money was good, my coworkers were all nice, and I had a killer view of the city.
The only downside was that the hours led to a lack of a social life. Not that I had any interest in a schedule filled with parties and outings and hosting company. I’d created a routine that gave me enough time for a weekly visit with the family to catch up. Other than that, I spent as much time as I could with Miles and Dallas, and when they were with their mom, I’d work on the house.
“That’s because it’s all you ever do.” My sister, Calla, wandered over and dropped into the seat next to Nathan. It was still jarring to see the engagement ring on her finger. In my head, she was still nine years old and forcing us all to watch The Princess Diaries over and over again.
“You’re one to talk.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Now that you’re working with the Phillies, all you do is talk about social media and baseball.”
She leaned into Nathan’s arm, and he smiled down at her. “You and I both know that’s all I talked about before I got hired by the Phillies. But either way, at least my job is actually interesting. Ooh, speaking of which…”
Calla went on to talk about how she would be traveling with the team this weekend so she could take a couple away game shots, but I tuned out when Layla, Rachel, and Marigold joined us in the round booth. We all slid toward the middle to make room. Thankfully, Rachel slid in first, creating a buffer between Marigold and me.
Seeing her as much as I had recently had me feeling off-kilter. It was nice to have others around to break up the heavy tension that swirled between us.
“Speaking of work…” Beside me, Rachel took a sip of her water and smirked.
I pulled in a deep breath, willing myself not to wince. She’d been coming around more since Layla had officially become a Wells. Rachel was a nice girl, but she had a mouth on her. God only knew what she’d say next. It could be as benign as a new Spotify playlist she’d filled with music that inspired productivity at work. But if I’d learned anything about her in the last few months, it was that she went for shock value.
“I heard you two were working on a little something together.” She pointed one hot-pink painted fingernail at me, then dragged it over to Marigold.
I kept my eyes averted, instead focusing on the Romfuzzled coasters in the middle of our table.
“Oh yeah,” Marigold said. “I don’t know how we got roped into—Wait.” Instantly, her sweet tone was laced with suspicion. “How did you know about that?”
Rachel lifted one shoulder. “I have my sources.”
Calla was the source, guaranteed. She’d no doubt heard it from my mom, who’d heard it from Marigold, because they had the most backward ex mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship in existence.
