Page 45 of When I Come Back
Ripley chooses this moment to stroll in from the back. He sizes up Iris cuddled into me, and as soon as his eyes shift to Thea, he’s at her side. The way she molds herself to him has me clenching my fists and my teeth. I know I have no leg to stand on, but it’s taking everything in me not to rip her out of his arms. He turns and whispers directly into Thea’s ear, and she nods as he continues to speak to her.
I turn to Iris and quietly say, “What are you doing here? I asked you to wait for me.”
“I just wanted to grab a bite to eat. I drove straight here from the airport. I promise I won’t be in your way,” she says sweetly, but her face is tinged with hurt and confusion because of my cold reception.
“And who do we have here?” Ripley says in his usual easy tone. His mossy eyes shift from Iris to me and harden.
“I’m Iris,” she says, holding out her hand for him to shake. “Cary’s fiancée.” Her words take him by surprise based on the flash of emotion on his face, but he quickly schools himself and takes her hand for a firm shake.
“Quinn Ripley. But everyone calls me Rip. Thea, here, is my girl,” Rip says, squeezing Thea even closer to him.
“Oh, you must be the one I heard all about,” she says looking over to Thea, who gives her a half-hearted smile.
Once they let go of the handshake, a silence falls among us while the restaurant continues to bustle. Thea still won’t meetmy gaze, but her face is ashen, and her brown eyes are dull with hurt and disbelief. Rip’s mouth quirks up on one side, and I can’t tell if it’s because he doesn’t notice the tension or because he revels in it.
“Well, this is fun,” he says with an instigating tone. “This is a great surprise, Iris. I don’t think we were expecting you.” The way he’s looking at me tells me he knows something is going on, and he’s about to make my life worse. Much worse. “I’m sure I can speak for both Thea and myself when I say that we’dloveto get to know the woman that’s swept good ol’ Cary-boy off his feet.” At that, Thea’s head snaps to him, and she tries to quietly get him to stop whatever he’s about to do.
He looks at her with a wide smile, turns back to us, and hammers the last nail in my coffin. “You should join us for our traditional night-before-Thanksgiving dinner. Brooks should be along shortly… probably.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I wouldn’t want us to impo—” I begin to say.
“Oh, that sounds great,” says Iris. “I’d love to get to know all of you. Did you guys grow up with Care?” At Iris’ words, Thea sinks more into herself, and her eyes start to well.
“Thea,” I say, my voice tight.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly as she slips out of Ripley’s hold. “I have to finish the inventory. Travis should have dinner ready for us in about an hour.” She swallows thickly and motions with her chin to the back corner by the wall of windows. “I have the back table reserved… I’ll ask Tiff to put out another setting.”
“Thea, you don’t have to do that,” I say.
“Yes,” she says and finally looks me in the eye. “As themanager, it’s the least I can do.” She finally lets the anger and pain shine through in her gaze before she turns and walks out. Ripley excuses himself with that damn smirk in my direction,which seems more like a challenge than anything friendly, before following Thea.
Fuck. Me.
By quarter after seven, we’re seated in the back corner with the gorgeous view of the lake spread out beyond the wide expanse of windows. My gaze is zeroed in on Thea’s, sitting across the table from me. Her face is blank, but her eyes are simmering in rage. I was hoping the hour she spent in the back with Ripley doing inventory—or whatever she ran off for—would have calmed her down a little, but all it seems to have done is transform her hurt into utter fury.
I spent the time before dinner at the bar with Iris, drinking more than I should to try to tamp down my panic for what’s to come. Iris hadn’t caught on to the tension between Thea and me. She gave me a rundown of her life over the last two weeks and complimented RED as well as what she’s seen of the town. I guess I nodded and hummed in all the right places because she still seems content and even excited to spend time with “my staff.”
I wish I could just melt into the floor and disappear. Everything that’s happened over the last few hours is definitely the worst case scenario that I could have imagined. Probably even worse. My mind keeps going back to the look on Thea’s face when Iris asked if she grew up with me. She was gutted. I deserve nothing less than the shitstorm this dinner is bound to turn into.
The table has been filled with various small plates meant for sharing that smell delicious but seem to do nothing but nauseate me. The servers have been keeping our drinks fresh—thank God. Votive candles cast a warm glow over the table. It would be lovely if I didn’t want to claw my skin off.
Ripley and Iris are carrying the conversation for the table, discussing everything from the whiskey conference Ripley just returned from to Iris’ sister’s upcoming baby shower. Brooks, of course, is a no-show. Even Iris didn’t seem surprised by his absence. I guess I’ve done a good job setting her expectations when it comes to him.
Besides perfunctory answers to questions sent in her direction, Thea has remained silent. Silent and stewing.
I tried to plead with her when we first sat down to step away and talk to me under the guise of something to do with the restaurant needing attention. She shot me down quickly with a clipped, “It can wait. Wouldn’t want to be rude to your fiancée.”
With a resigned sigh, I sat down across from her and maintained her angry stare for the last half hour.
I don’t know what Thea told him, but Ripley seems to have shaken the tension from earlier and is acting as if nothing is amiss. He’s cracking jokes and engaging Iris in easy conversation. That doesn’t surprise me though. Iris is easy to like and get along with. She’s one of those people who makes friends wherever she goes. She draws people in because she is just so effortlessly cool. I wish I could produce a laundry list of her flaws after six years together—it might make this a tiny bit easier—but the only one I can find is that she’s not Thea.
“So, Iris,” Ripley says conspiratorially in between bites. “Cary has been very hush-hush about you. Why don’t you tell us how you guys met?” Ripley’s eyes flash to mine, and I know his untroubled demeanor is all a lie. Thefucker. He knows exactly what he’s doing. But he’s just as big of an asshole as I am; hemust know that stirring this boiling pot of shit that is tonight is going to hurt Thea just as much as it’ll hurt me.
Iris turns to me with a giggle. Her cheeks are flushed after the two glasses of wine she’s already had. I give her a half-hearted smile before I bring my eyes back to Thea, hoping she can read my apology in them.
“Oh, he’s never been great at talking about that kind of stuff. He’s so private, I think he’d keep me a secret if I’d let him,” says Iris, giggling again.
Thea scoffs in the middle of a sip of her wine, choking on the liquid. Ripley gently slaps her back as she coughs.
