Page 60 of Kiss Me, Maybe

“Finally! What took you so long?” Esme’s voice rings out from the hallway.

“I know, sorry. I swear I recognized the car out—” A white man around my age turns the corner into the living room, eyes wide like a deer in headlights when they immediately lock on Krystal.

“Isaac? What’s wrong?” Esme pulls at the sleeve of his shirt with furrowed brows.

“Isaac?” I lower my voice, glancing between the three of them in bewilderment. “As in—”

“Yeah.” Krystal finally tears her eyes away from the man to look at me. “My ex.”

He’s different from what I would’ve imagined for her. Tall and lanky, with overlong hair and glasses too big for his face. They keep falling down his nose. Hell, he’s even different fromEsme’s usual type. So iron-clad was her typical guy that back in the day, she used to cycle through virtually the same-looking dude every other week. All buff gym rats with biceps that could crack my head open like a nut. Isaac is nothing like them. He sticks his hands into his flannel jacket, eyes staring determinedly down at the floor.

“Who’s your friend?” Briana steps forward, eyes assessing Krystal’s guilt-ridden form. The way she can sense something wrong before her sister is uncanny. Idly, I wonder if it’s some sort of mom intuition bursting within her, the need to protect Esme from whatever storm might be brewing.

I step in front of Krystal, blocking Briana’s view of her, but only slightly.

“We’ve got a full house. Come on, I’ll introduce y’all to everyone.” I pull Briana into the kitchen by the wrist, hoping Theo will be enough of a distraction for her.

By the way her eyes bug out of her skull when she spots him, a relieved sigh deflates my shoulders. I practically push her into the other man’s chest. To his credit, Theo hides his discomfort well, only exchanging apologetic glances with his girlfriend when Briana and Esme crowd him. That leaves me with one problem, but lucky for me it’s one I’m equipped to handle.

“Let me show you some pictures of Esme as a kid.” I guide Isaac out of the kitchen by linking our arms. “I think I have a few from the great food fight of 2011. As beautiful as your girlfriend is, she doesnotwear cafeteria spaghetti well.”

Isaac raises a single brow at me but doesn’t fight when I guide him back to the living room. Over my shoulder, I catch Krystal’s eye and give her an encouraging smile.I’ve got this, Isilently convey to her. I don’t think much when her face turns pale and she opens her mouth as if to speak, but nothing comes out. They probably haven’t spoken since the breakup. I understand her panic, but this could be a good opportunity for them. Maybe all they need is closure. Maybe then, Krystal will be able to forgive herself for how things ended with Isaac. If he can forgive her, she’ll be able to forgive herself.

I point out some mildly embarrassing photos of Esme, along with some pretty great ones. Isaac’s tense shoulders loosen with every turned page of the photo album. Soon enough, so does his tongue.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he confesses after a while. “I mean, I’d like her to be, but Esme’s a bit harder to convince.”

“I can’t remember the last time she had a serious relationship, to be honest,” I say. “But we’re not that close these days, so what do I know?”

He hesitates a beat before he asks, “How do you know Krystal?”

I look up at him, surprised he brought her up so easily. I’ve been gearing up to ask him about her, but no question I’ve landed on so far has been subtle. It’s better this way, though. This is a conversation to ease into, lest he shut down too soon.

“We’re friends. I’m a regular where she works.”

“She told you about me.” It’s not a question, just something he’s figured out for himself. He takes in a deep breath. “How is she?”

“She’s…” I trail off, wondering how much of the truth to admit to him. “She feels awful about what she did to you.” He tenses up again, eyes scrunched in a wince before a wall closes over his expression. He might be with someone else now, but he’s not over what went down with his ex. “She hasn’t forgiven herself for hurting you.”

“Yeah, well, I’d find it hard to forgive myself, too, if our roles were reversed,” he says, tone hard. “Leaving someone at the altar isn’t an easy thing to forgive.”

The air stills, or maybe it’s just me frozen in time. I stare at him for a long moment, my brain working overtime to make sense of what he’s just said.

“I… What?” An unintelligible sound leaves my lips, something like a manic, disbelieving laugh. “Left at the altar? There was an actualwedding?”

“She didn’t tell you about that?” He turns to face me fully now. “It was back and forth with her formonths. Ever since I put that ring on her finger. First, we couldn’t agree on anything for the wedding. Then when we did, she said the planning was getting to her. Finally, she said she’d rather elope instead. It was the last thing I wanted, but I agreed because it was whatshewanted. I knew I was losing her. Ifeltit. All I wanted was to make her happy, even when it came at the cost of my own happiness. I thought if we just got married, without all the pressure from our families, we could get our relationship back on track.

“And then she changed her mind again.” He scoffs. “I found out she wasn’t coming through a voice message. She couldn’t do this, she was sorry, and we’d talk later. That should’ve been the end of our relationship right there, but I was too stupid to see that she wasn’t in it anymore. It was so obvious when I think back on it, but I didn’t see it. I didn’twantto see it. She was my first love. First and only, I used to think.”

She left him at the altar. I thought I knew the full story, but she kept the biggest piece to herself. Why didn’t she tell me? Did she think she couldn’t trust me? I’m so naive, thinking ifI just talked to Isaac I could convince him to forgive Krystal. That maybe if he and Krystal got the closure they needed, she’d finally be able to put her past mistakes behind her.

“I’m sorry,” I take in a deep breath. “I didn’t know. She didn’t…”

He lets out a humorless laugh, the side of his mouth quirking in a knowing smirk. I don’t like the look of it at all, even if he is the wronged party. Over by the dining area, Julian and Krystal are helping Marcela set the table. Every once in a while, I catch Krystal’s eyes on us. Her expression is unreadable, but I can tell she’s anxious from the way she can’t keep still.

“I’m not surprised,” Isaac says. “Listen, I don’t know you. I don’t know what your relationship with my ex is like. All I know is my side of things. I never really knew how she felt about marrying me until we were breaking up. She strung me along until her mind was made up. She didn’t love me, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.

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