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I keep my eyes fixed on the grains of the wooden table, avoiding his closeness, his pulling gaze, his familiar scent. I pull my phone out since I can’t exactly run upstairs to grab the folder I’d prepared. “Here, I’ll take notes and can email them to you later.” The screen is blurry, but I blink away the sting of tears.
“Charlie,” he starts again, his tone softer. “I’m sorry.”
That makes me look up. “What?” I don’t know why I need to hear it again. I don’t know why it’s so important to me. But those words, coming from him touch something deep and I can’t imagine why when I’m the one who screwed up.
But I’m also the one who suffered the most.
Who lost the most.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats. "That was uncalled for.”
I offer a small nod but I can tell it doesn’t appease him.
“Here you go, sweetie.” Tessa brings over my coffee and gives Noah a hard look. “You can make your own espresso.”
“Thanks,” he mutters but doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“Can I also have a blueberry muffin, Tess?” I ask softly.
“No,” Noah says sharply. “We’ll have the platter.”
Tess’s brows perk impressively. “Okay, I’ll get that in for ya.”
I sigh. “We’re not going to make it a whole month.”
He’s stoic as ever when he responds. “Nonsense. You called a truce. Now you have to live up to it.”
I roll my eyes. “Okay, first on the agenda, best man responsibilities. Have you done this before, do you know what to have covered?”
“Yes. Levi’s been married before. I’m familiar with the process. But before we continue, I would like it if you would accept my apology.”
I drop my phone on the table. “Why should I accept yours? What makes you so special?” I snap.
Couldn’t help yourself, could you, Charlotte?
I hold his gaze. His icy blue eyes. The eyes that belonged to my best friend before they turned cold. There’s something familiar about the way he’s looking at me now. He almost looks like the man I fell for years ago and never had a chance to show how much.
Not only did I fall first. I fell hard. So hard I crumbled when he rejected me that night. And then fell to pieces when he dumped me hours later.
He doesn’t say anything and for the sake of Chase and Pepper, “I accept. Can we move on to business now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I started a list that I can’t seem to find in my notes here,” I lie. “But I remember it off hand. Here’s what we need: dates for the bachelor parties and a coinciding plan, meaning you can’t go to Vegas while we go to the spa in the next town over. It has to be equal. Also, Pepper said no strippers, which means, Chase—”
“Yeah, I’m going to need that espresso.” He stands and heads behind the bar.
I release a heavy breath silently and try to remember what I had in my notes upstairs. Because for goodness sake, I should not be leading with strippers. But as usual, I'm rambling because I'm unprepared. And if I know my ex, he'll see right through it.
He returns, sitting across from me, and takes a slow sip of his tiny beverage. His back is straight, his eyes empty. Like he’s having tea with the Queen.
“Let me know when I can continue.”
He sighs. “Put your phone down and drink your coffee.”
And burn my tongue? No thank you.
A busboy brings over a platter of food and sets it between us.
