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“Why do you care?”
“It’s embarrassing me!”
“Embarrassing you? Didn’t you say this is your first time eating at this restaurant? Because if anything, I’m the one who should be embarrassed. I come here all the time—this is mine and Emmy’s favorite place to eat,” I reply before I can stop myself.
As soon as I mention Emmy’s name, Carol bristles like a hedgehog. “Emmy? What does she have to do with all this, then?”
“Nothing. We used to come here when … we were closer,” I reply, the words hurt, like spikes being driven through my entire body.
“Hmm … so, have you talked to her lately?” Carol asks me.
“Not really. We had a pretty intense conversation the last time we saw each other and then … I suppose things cooled off a little.”
“What was the conversation about?”
Obviously, I can’t tell Carol that the conversation was about her.
Or that it was the final nail in the coffin that drove my friendship with Emmy to a standstill.
“It doesn’t matter. We just … drifted apart a little, that’s all,” I answer instead.
“I see. Well, I saw her at the wedding in that pink and gold dress. She looked … anyway. Wasn’t she walking down the aisle with Chris Evans? The actor?” she says, resuming the gossip.
“Yes, yes she was.”
“That was a sight to see, wasn’t it?” She laughs.
“I suppose it was unexpected,” is all I can answer.
In reality, seeing Emmy with someone else made my insides burn.
Of course, I’m the one who moved on and started seeing Carol. As a result, she’s at liberty to do the same. But seeing it with my own eyes hurt more than I could’ve imagined.
“The wedding was packed with celebrities, and Emmy moved fast!” Carol keeps laughing.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on! Chris Evans? Who in their right mind is going to say no to that?”
“Chris Evans is married…” I reply.
“Yeah, so?”
Starting to feel more and more uncomfortable, I look around for the waiter, hoping that he might arrive with my scotch.
I don’t know how much more of this evening I can endure now.
“Oh, I heard another piece of gossip. It’s quite juicy!” Carol starts all over again.
My head is beginning to ache and my patience is at an all-time low. “Carol, I’m very tired. Can we, please, talk about anything else other than gossip from the wedding?”
“This is about Emmy,” she says.
“What is?”
“Someone at the wedding said that she’s moving to Los Angeles.”
The news falls on me like an avalanche, crushing me under its weight and significance. “What? What did you say?”
