Page 113 of New Growth
Huh.
It never occurred to me until I really studied their faces, but then it hit me.
They wanted something. They hadn’t come all this way, put up with my outburst, and sat through my jabs just for the hell of it.
They needed something from me but I didn’t know what it was.
And honestly? I didn’t have it in me to care.
“I just have one more question.” I finished, ready to leave. This thought had haunted me since the day I found out. Had eaten away at the edges of my memories, making me recall every interaction, every moment between the three of us. It fucked up my psyche so much that I tucked it away in the corner of my mind just to get some sleep in Thailand.
“Was it only one time? Or had you been with Johnathan before that?”
Ryan’s breath caught. For just a second, I saw it—a flicker of something in her eyes.Satisfaction?
Maybe she was glad she could finally use something to get under my skin.
Then, just as quickly, she smothered it with guilt.
“Yes.” Her voice was soft. “We messed around a few times. But when you got engaged, I told him we should stop. And we did. For a time.”
She looked at me.
“Then Daddy died. And I needed him. I needed to feel safe again. I’ve known him my whole life too, Ellie. We grew up together, too. I fell in love with him, too.”
Numbness.
That’s all I felt. No rage. No grief. Just a bone-deep exhaustion that settled into my spine like lead. I needed a drink. A stiff one. Then maybe I’d lie down and let this day disappear behind my eyelids.
I pushed back my chair, standing smoothly.
“You’re both so pathetic.”
“Ellie—”
I turned to Ryan, my voice eerily calm.
“You don’t get to have both. You don’t get to have meandhim.”
I let that sink in.
“And since you’re marrying him, I think you’ve made your choice.”
I grabbed my bag.
“Congratulations.”
Then I walked away.
?
After that so-called ‘lunch’ with Ma and Ryan, I drove straight to El’s place, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles ached. My brain was spinning from everything they had said. The audacity. The absolute nerve of them to sit there and ask me to be the maid of honor at my sister’s wedding to my ex-fiancé.
I was almost certain they were trying to kill me.
I slammed the car door shut and stomped up to El’s front door, barely giving him a second to react before I was inside.
“They’re getting married,” I snapped, shoving past him into the living room.
