Page 49 of After Everything
But I was aware of David at the bar. Not, not just aware… hyperaware. I could feel his presence like a physical thing, a weight in my peripheral vision.
Connor was watching me. "Ex?" he asked quietly.
I hesitated, then nodded. "Ex-husband, actually."
"Ah." He took another bite of dessert, considering. "Awkward?"
"A little."
"Do you want to leave?"
The offer was genuine. I could see it in his face: if I said yes, he'd signal for the check, get me out of here, no questions asked. No judgment.
"No," I said. And meant it. "I'm having agood time. I don't want to cut it short because of... him."
Connor smiled. "Good. Because I'm having a good time too."
I smiled back and deliberately turned my attention away from the bar. Connor started telling me about a disastrous camping trip he'd taken in the Cascades, something involving a bear and a poorly secured cooler, and I laughed in all the right places.
But I was still aware of David.
I could see him in the mirror behind Connor's head. He and his friend were sitting at the bar now, the friend gesturing animatedly about something while David nodded and sipped what looked like a soda. Not alcohol. Interesting.
David glanced toward our table once. Our eyes met in the mirror. Then he looked away quickly, turning his full attention back to his friend.
He wasn't staring. Wasn't watching me. Wasn't trying to catch my attention or make some grand gesture or intrude on my evening.
He was just... there. Having a conversation with a friend. Existing in the same space as me without making it weird.
The old David, the David from three years ago, would have panicked. Would have tried to explain his presence, or worse, tried to come over and introduce himself to Connor. Would have made it about him somehow.
This David just ordered food and talked to his friend and pretended I didn't exist.
Which was exactly what I'd asked for.
So why did it bother me?
"Emma?"
I blinked. Connor was looking at me with concern. "Sorry, what?"
"I asked if you wanted to get out of here. Take a walk or something? It's a nice night."
I glanced at the mirror again. David was laughing at something his friend said, relaxed and present. Not looking at me. Not thinking about me.
"Yeah," I said. "A walk sounds good."
Connor paid the check—insisted, despite my offer to split it—and we headed for the door. We had to walk past the bar to getthere. I kept my eyes forward, but I felt David's presence as we passed.
He didn't look up. Didn't acknowledge us. Just kept talking to his friend like nothing else in the restaurant mattered.
Outside, the air was cool and crisp. Connor offered me his jacket; I almost said no, then accepted it. It was a nice gesture. The kind of gesture nice men made.
We walked toward the river, hands in our pockets, shoulders almost but not quite touching.
"So," Connor said after a block of comfortable silence. "Ex-husband."
"Three years divorced," I said. "It was... messy. But it's over now."
