Page 5 of Anywhere with You
A cold feeling crept into my stomach. “Six months?” I breathed.
Cara’s head jerked up to look at me. She didn’t say a word.
I pulled in a shaky breath. “I didn’t know it had been that long. I didn’t think to ask.”
Cara took a pastry, placed it in the center of her plate, and passed the bag to me. I took the one that looked like it contained the most calories and bit into it, hoping that the sugar and the fat and all the bad stuff would momentarily make me feel better. I chewed and swallowed and drank my coffee, not tasting any of it.
“When did he tell you he was leaving?” I asked, and I instantly regretted that, too. What was the point of knowing? Was I hoping to compare the length of Cara’s suffering to mine? I took another large bite.
Cara sighed but answered at once, as though she wanted to talk about it, maybe as though she didn’t have two parents and a coworker who were constantly pestering her to talk through her emotions.
“It’s been six weeks or so,” she said. “He said Bridget was doing the same, that same day. I kept thinking that I’d call you or go by,but it wasn’t until yesterday…” She stopped, took a sip of coffee, then cleared her throat and met my eyes. “Yesterday, he called to check on me.”
I cringed and didn’t try to hide it. “Did you tell him to fuck off?”
Cara’s eyes widened, and something about her changed, became more open, like the edges of her mask were slipping. “No,” she said, and it was almost a whine. “Why didn’t I tell him to fuck off? Honey, what’s wrong with me? Can I call him right now and tell him to fuck off?”
I almost laughed. I probably would’ve, but there was a manic edge to Cara. I was a little afraid that the wrong reaction would make her start crying or throwing things.
“You can, if you want,” I said. “But for maximum impact, I’d wait until he calls again.”
“Right. Good thinking. Anyway, he’s been cheating on me since Thanksgiving.” She gave another wide, fake smile, then shook her head. “Maybe he was calling because he really did want to know if I was okay. I don’t know. I’m not sure I care.”
Thanksgiving. This was March.
Maybe I should call Bridget. I could ask her if she looked at our wedding picture every day or if she was, instead, not a pathetic mess of emotion. I could check on her. Or I could just tell her to fuck off, too.
“Bridget did tell you that day, didn’t she? Right after Valentine’s Day?” Cara asked.
I nodded. “Right after Valentine’s Day, but not close enough after so that I could get a bunch of Valentine’s-themed breakup grief candy half off.”
Cara said she’d thought about calling me, but I’d never considered calling her. I’d spent every waking hour in Strings & Things so I didn’t have to be at home, and I cycled through all of Bridget’s social media hourly, at least, because God forbid I missed a detail of her romantic new life.
But no, Cara had never even crossed my mind.
She’d driven across Houston to see me, and I hadn’t even picked up the phone.
“I think there are divorce papers on my desk,” I said, surprising myself. I hadn’t told anyone yet.
“What do you mean youthink?”
“I haven’t opened the envelope.”
Cara shook her head. “I opened mine as soon as they came, standing there in the doorway in front of the process server man or whoever. I had just gotten home, and I had my hands full of bills and junk mail and my keys. I tried to pick it all up after, but I know some of it blew away. I guess they’ll send new bills, won’t they? It’s not like I missed my only chance with the electric company.”
“I’m sorry,” I said because there was nothing else to say. Maybe I meantI’m sorry you’re going through all this. Maybe,I’m sorry our spouses are fucking each other. Maybe,I’m sorry that I didn’t call you when I should have.
Maybe all of it.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said.
Chapter Four
I worked all weekend, which mostly meant sitting in my office watching Mesmio reels of buff women splitting logs.
Florence and our other employee, Doug, were more than capable of running Strings & Things without my constant presence, but the alternative was to be at my house, and Badger’s fuzzy face aside, I hated it there. I fantasized a lot about setting it on fire. Not for the insurance. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure there was insurance. No, I just wanted to watch it burn…and all the memories with it.
It was nice of Lorenzo and Bridget to both move out, I supposed, leaving Cara and me each with our homes. Or maybe they just didn’t want us to know where to find them. As angry as I’d been these last six weeks, that was probably smart.
