Page 97 of Bad Crush
“No, of course not.” His brows pull together. Then he shifts to one hip and pulls a piece of paper out of his pants pocket. “Before I forget, your mom asked me to give you this.”
“You talked to her?” I don’t mean it to sound like an accusation, but the thought never even occurred to me that she’d use him to get to me.
“Briefly.”
I wait for him to say more. He shifts uncomfortably. “All she wants is a chance to talk.”
“And you think I should?” A cool breeze stirs around us, and I cross my arms at my chest.
“I don’t know. She’s family. Maybe hearing her out will help.”
“She’s only family by blood. She was no mother to me.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because you’re acting like I should call her up and welcome her back into my life with open arms.”
“The things she did, the way she abandoned you—it’s awful. I hate her a little bit for you, but sometimes people change.” He rubs my arm, but I don’t feel any warmth.
“I cannot believe this. You’re taking her side.”
“No, definitely not. I’m on your side. Always.”
“You didn’t even want Rhett to talk to Carrie, and the only thing she did was boss him around for six years.”
“That’s not the whole story with Rhett.”
“And you.” I stand in front of him, a sick feeling in my stomach. “You want me to forgive my mom and hear her out. When is the last time you talked to an ex-girlfriend?”
I recognize the impassive and distant look on his face, but I can’t bring myself to stop.
“Do you know there isn’t a single picture of an ex-girlfriend in your room? Not the one at your parents’ house either. Not in your phone. Not even on social media unless you count photos other people have tagged you in. All evidence is banished.”
“Are you really pissed at me for not keeping in contact with girls I used to date?” He runs a hand through his hair. “What the hell is happening?”
“When you’re done with people, you’re done with them. You write them off and move on to the next. I guess I’m just wondering how much longer until my time is up?”
And there it is. All of my worst fears recognized by the look on his face. This time isn’t different. It’s exactly the same. And I just moved us into the final phase of the Adam Scott relationship playbook—the breakup.
“That’s a really shitty thing to say.”
“It’s true, though, right?” My voice cracks. “When we break up, you’ll take a week or maybe two to rid me from your life, and then it’ll be as if I never existed. It’s what you do. This time together will mean nothing.”
“We’re here again? Seriously? I don’t know how to make my feelings for you any clearer.”
I reach out for his arm, and he flinches. Small, but I catch it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like an attack on you. It’s just, I can read you. I can see how upset you are. It’s written all over your face.” And I know how this goes. Someday maybe it will be different for him, but this time isn’t it. “I’m tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
He nods, jaw flexes. “Of course, I’m fucking upset. My girlfriend is counting down the days until I break up with her. Do you know why I didn’t invite my parents tonight?”
I shake my head.
“Because things are still fucked up from the divorce, and I didn’t know which one to invite. If I asked one and not the other, I thought I’d hurt someone’s feelings. If I invited them both and they showed up, who knows what the hell would have happened. And even worse, there was a real chance that neither one would because they’re in some messed up avoiding game, so why bother?” He finishes his beer and tosses it to the ground with a clank. His voice rises, angry and sharp. “And Carrie fucking cheated on Rhett, so yeah, I didn’t want him to talk to her and get sucked back in.”
“I didn’t know.”
“No one does. That’s why I didn’t tell you. He doesn’t even know that I know. I overheard him on the phone one day.” He’s agitated, angry.
Shame washes over me. I know that my anger isn’t really about him, but I’m terrified that he’s just one more person I’m going to lose.
