Page 72 of Four Weddings to Fall in Love
As I drive home, my mind is filled with memories of what that last relationship did to me.Made me feel like I was always the problem, like I never did enough, which is why I swore I’d never put myself in that position again.
Yet here I am.
When I get to my apartment, I put away my groceries, open up a bag of Turtle Chips, and waste time on my phone.Losing myself in some online drama sounds appealing right now.I go to advice forums and read about people with even more fucked-up family situations than me.Some of the stories are probably creative writing exercises, possibly rage bait, but I don’t care as long as they’re entertaining.The ones about men who ask for open marriages, then get mad when lots of people want to sleep with their wives—and their wives have a great time!—are some of my favorites.
I also find an argument over whether you should wash your rice, which soon devolves into “washing rice is racist” and “not washing rice is racist” and someone saying Asian people who don’t own rice cookers must hate themselves.
Sure, my blood pressure is rising, but at least it has nothing to do with my own life.
As entertaining as this is, I don’t want to stay here all day, scarfing Turtle Chips—huh, will you look at that, I’m almost finished the bag—so I text Iris and ask if she’s free.(Tessa went to her hometown with Malcolm for the August long weekend.) Iris replies that she’d be happy to see me, and I suggest a cider bar on Ossington that I’ve been meaning to try.
I want to look hot tonight, so when it’s time to get ready, I put on the jeans I wore last weekend—the ones that made Max stare at my ass—as well as a clingy black top.I’m in the mood for some dramatic makeup, so I spend more time on it than usual, recalling that Troy said he preferred a more natural look.
Well, fuck Troy.Besides, he had no idea when I was wearing makeup and when I wasn’t.
When I’m finished, I look pretty damn good, if I do say so myself, and I can’t help imagining Max’s reaction.He’s not in the city, but I snap a picture in the mirror and send it to him.He doesn’t immediately respond, but he’s with his family and his signal might be questionable this weekend, so that doesn’t bother me.He’ll see it when he sees it.
The cider place is busier than I expected, but Iris has managed to snag a spot on the backyard patio.
“Hey,” she says.“You look amazing.”
I scan the QR code to bring up the list of ciders on draft, and I soon make my decision.The server brings my cider over quickly, and I immediately chug half of it, barely tasting it, though it’s refreshing after walking from the subway station in this hot weather.
Iris raises her eyebrows.“What’s up?”
No sense in pretending nothing’s wrong.“I saw Troy’s mom at the grocery store.”
Now that I say it aloud, it sounds stupid, and I’m pissed that it’s affected me so much.
“You mean the woman who made your life a living hell?Who called you at midnight to yell at you because you didn’t do his laundry, and hired a private investigator—”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”I didn’t know Iris back then, but she’s heard stories.I take another healthy swallow of my drink and tell her about our exchange.
“Well, good luck to his fiancée.”She raises her glass.
“Yeah, good luck to her.”Maybe Troy will decide he wants to sleep around, insist they open up their marriage, and she’ll be the one enjoying the sex of her life while he argues about rice cookers online.
The thought shouldn’t make me gleeful, but it does.
“How do you deal with Alex’s mom?”I ask Iris.
“She died before we met.”
“Shit.I’m sorry.I forgot about that.”I pause.“What about the rest of his family?”
“His dad and brother?We get along fine.”She leans forward.“How’s it going with Max?Is the sex good?I assume it must have gotten better after the first time.”
“Yeah, much better.”
If she notices me blushing, I’ll blame it on the alcohol.I don’t normally blush over a little sex talk, but when I think of Max fucking my mouth…
I clear my throat.“But I saw his mother again last weekend.He forgot she was visiting that morning.”
“Did he try to hide you in the closet?”
“Nah.It went okay, I guess.”
I can’t imagine Lynne judging my purchases and telling me to watch my figure at the grocery store, but I don’t know her well, and the events of the past week have me unsettled.
