Page 79 of The Confidant

With a sigh, I turn to leave. It’s time to let that go and focus on me. Now that I’m out, I can think about getting my hair done.

“Hey, Addie.”

I pause at Asher’s familiar, cold voice. I don’t want to turn around. Would pretending I didn’t hear him hurt worse than whatever he says next?

“Wait up,” he says, making the decision for me.

I turn to take him in. To see if he’s changed just as much as I’m struggling to.

Asher is the same as he always is. Cold and closed off. He has his hands in his pockets as if he stopped in the middle of a casual walk down the street to say hi.

The old urge to run up and hug him comes and goes quickly. He may not look angry, but I don’t trust his blank expression. Not to mention, he wouldn’t hug me back anyway.

He feels like a stranger despite how familiar he is. All my previous dealings with him are colored over with facts Maman threw in my face. All I can see is his perfect blond hair, dark blue eyes, and the tattoos I used to be proud of. Now, they’re just a reminder that I gave them my all, everydecentpart of me, and they still hated what they saw. They made me hate myself.

I keep the several feet of distance between us easily after that.

His brows start to go down as if he doesn’t recognize me either. Have I changed on the outside, too? Maybe I should. Becomemeinstead of a Broussard clone. The idea makes me feel strong. I’m my own person. I don’t need to fit in with them.

“How are you?”

My brows furrow at the question. It’s a simple one. I’m realizing that he’s never asked me before.

“Fine,” I reply blandly. I’m a clean slate, and I’m rebuilding myself with a lot of support. Beingfinemight be a lie right now, but itwillget better.

His eyes move to the shop’s doors and look away quickly. My old shop is a place he can barely look at. He’s spent a lot of time on my table. All the bonding I thought we did during that time doesn’t amount to much in his eyes.

“Your shop looks different. Are you remodeling?”

If he took a closer look, he’d know how much of an idiot he is. I know he won’t. I’m not starting that conversation with him. Seeing him in person after so long and knowing Maman has turned him against me is painful enough. I don’t even know if she tried hard to do it or if he latched onto the first hateful thing she said.

“Remodeling. Yeah.” You could definitely say that, so it isn’t a lie.

“That’s good,” he nods to himself.

I nod along without saying anything. No asking about his problems, no offer to help, and no questions about his group. It’s none of my business anymore, no matter how much it hurts. That will fade. I’m used to the poked bruise feeling. It will get there soon enough.

“I was hoping to see you Friday at the diner. To meet everyone.”

I stare at him with a blank expression. I’m suddenly worthy of meeting his loved ones. All I had to do was change everything about myself. To stay quiet and stop asking questions.

Seeing him has made me numb again. I’m afraid that he’s going to make me hate him. Right now, it’s just sadness and disappointment. I don’t want to hate anyone. Life has made it easier for me to see the appeal, though.

“Is six good?” He asks, his eyes moving over my face in confusion.

Before I can answer, his phone goes off with a text. He doesn’t hesitate to look at it or answer it.

If it had been me, he would have dismissed it. I can picture his frigid, angry face when he does it, too.

When another text comes through, he gets a sappy smile. He’s blatantly excited about something. I would usually tease him about it, but that urge is a lot easier to suppress now.

“Sonograms are amazing. I’ll see you,” he says abruptly, not taking his attention from the phone as he walks away.

Just like that, we’re back to being strangers. No offer to show me the baby or tell me if Tera is doing fine. Are the icing and sprinkles holding up at the thought of becoming dads? I don’t know. Maybe I never will.

Going back to my beat-up car in a numb state, I drive home. It isn’t until I walk in the door, my new safe haven, that I cry.

Chapter Fifteen

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