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13
Brit slurped the rest of her fruity drink, leaning back on the corner booth she shared with Lara and Nikki. The two friend exchanged glances, then Lara angled closer. That morning, the contact from the convention had called her about her sample, interested in meeting about a deal. She’d been given the name of a manufacturing company and distributor along with a promised contract to invest in her line of cosmetics. She should have been over the moon, but the heaviness from saying goodbye to Damian kept following her anywhere she went. It stuck in her throat like an invisible object, and the more she swallowed, the rawer her reality became.
“Have you talked to Violet yet?” she asked.
Had she? Yes and no. She’d been the first one to see Violet when she’d returned a week prior. But Brit knew that wasn’t what Lara referred to. The underlying question was, Did you tell her you slept with her husband?
“Not yet,” Brit said.
The three of them had gone for lunch the day before, but thankfully Brit had to work so she used that excuse not to go. She rubbed her temples, feeling the throb. Ever since Damian had visited her at the mall, she’d had a hard time concentrating. How could she? He’d thrown words at her that made sense, but she wasn’t done digesting them yet.
Maybe he had a point about her being scared of fully living a relationship. She had been courageous and forthcoming when Violet wasn’t in the picture, but now that she represented a threat, Brit didn’t want to take the risk. Or worse, she wanted everyone to be happy.
Everyone but me.
“You don’t look good,” Lara said.
“Thanks.” Brit threw a small piece of sourdough bread at her, which Lara successfully dodged.
Nikki played with the straw in her cup of water. “I was worried for you when I heard about you and Damian. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” She smiled a little. “But now it makes sense… Damian and Violet were too similar in some ways. You brought a change to him that she never managed to do.”
Brit glanced at the crushed ice in her glass. “I appreciate it, I do, but the fact is—”
She started, but when she lifted her gaze to her friends’ she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure walking in their direction. Her heart thrummed. Violet.
With each step Violet took, the tension in her body grew until she rubbed the back of her neck to alleviate some of the kinks. Didn’t help much, but what else could she do? Run? Tell them she had to use the restroom? She’d have to keep facing Violet, and at some point her friend would know Brit was avoiding her.
“Hi, ladies,” Violet said. “Brit, may I have a word with you?”
Fuck. She already noticed I’ve been mum on the group chat. Not to mention, ever since that day at their house, she hadn’t checked in with Violet or commented on any of her texts.
“Sure. I’ve been wanting to check that new vintage shop next door that opened,” Lara said, scooting out of the booth. “Wanna come?” She touched Nikki’s elbow.
Nikki quickly nodded. “Of course. See you guys soon.”
The two of them made a swift exit, leaving Brit and Violet. Violet slid into the booth across from Brit.
Brit sucked in a breath. “How’s it going? How does it feel to be back?” she asked. Damn it, she’d been selfish with her own reasons to keep her distance from Violet. How had her friend deal with coming back to her home, kids and, hhmmm, husband after so long? Brit swallowed. “Are you okay?” She fought the need to reach across the table and squeeze her hand.
The waiter came and jotted down Violet’s order.
“I guess you remember the menu,” Brit said when the waiter left. “Some things don’t change, huh?”
“Yeah. While others do,” Violet said. “I know about you and Damian.”
The overpriced nachos she had earlier threaten to float up her throat and make an unfortunate appearance. Fully aware the blood must have drained from her face, she looked at her friend. “Yes,” she said with a measure of dignity. Hell, even if Violet ripped her a new one, at least she’d be honest with her. “How did you find out?”
The waiter brought Violet’s glass of wine, and the trepidation only increased. Brit drew in a long breath, threading her fingers together. Shit. She’d lost the man, and now would probably lose the friend over it—what if she never got to see Amanda and Trevor again? Sadness cooled her bloodstream. She’d miss the children. Oh, what a mess…
The waiter finally left, and Brit was about to ask her question again, when Violet shifted in her seat and parted her lips. “I picked up on things. The way he acted around you, and how much Amanda talked about you helping out. Also, what a coincidence you were both out of town during the same weekend.”
God, she must hate me. “I’m so sorry, Violet. I feel like a friend fraud,” she said, tears brimming her eyelids. Behind her eyes, heat pricked her nerves. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know you wouldn’t want to hurt me.” Violet’s small smile reached her eyes, her baby blues sparkling. “You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks but now that compliments only makes me feel worse.” Why do you have to be sweet and nice? It would be much easier if you acted like a bitch right now. But Brit knew her friend wasn’t a bitch. She was smart, compassionate and reliable.
“How do you feel about him?”
