“You haven’t been snooping on social media? Meghan’s been posting stuff with that new guy non-stop, and you haven’t even mentioned it since we brought it up at the last dinner.”
Honestly, I’d completely forgotten about that. Seeing my ex-wife with her new boyfriend should have at least warranted a mild crash-out, but helping Hazel was the only thing preoccupying me lately. While I was doing better—I really was—it stillsucked to see Meghan move on before I did. Especially since she’d been the one to end it. Maybe, deep down, I’d known we weren’t right for each other. But when she’d pulled up a chair that random Wednesday night and told me we needed to talk, I hadn’t expected it. I’d go as far as to say that she’d blindsided me. She’d said she wanted more. That I couldn’t change, and she had no desire to try and push me any longer. She wanted excitement, and I just wasn’t the guy who could give it to her.
“I haven’t looked,” I said.
West shot me a quick glance, eyebrows raised. “Seriously? You weren’t curious? I thought for sure you’d go on a stalking spree the moment you found out. Ruby had to force me not to drive to your house that night to try and talk you off a ledge.”
I slid back in my seat. West had been around for the entirety of mine and Meghan’s relationship. He knew how in love I’d been, and he’d seen how far I’d fallen when she’d told me she wanted out. But that was nearly a year ago. I’d moved on. Just because I hadn’t met someone new, didn’t mean I couldn’t be over her.
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I really don’t care.”
It was clear from his silence that he didn’t believe me. No one in my family did, even if it was the truth. Now that I was out of that relationship, I could see how draining it had been. It wasn’t like we fought a lot, but we were never on the same page. Never wanted to do the same things. It was dumb stuff, like, she’d want a night out while I just wanted to cook together and watch a movie. Or she’d want to ditch my family’s annual trip to Florida so she could go to Italy instead. Being with Meghan had left me constantly doubting myself, feeling like who I was just wasn’t enough. Honestly, being alone had been freeing.
I didn’t need some rebound. I needed to finally accept myself, after years of feeling like I wasn’t amounting to much as a husband.
“I’m here if you need me, man,” West said.
“I know.” And I did. Because he’d always been there for me. I knew without a doubt that West always had my back.
At the restaurant, Ruby and Regan were already waiting for us at a table. The four of us spent the entire dinner having lively conversation. Part of me was present, enjoying myself and laughing along.
Another part of me was somewhere else entirely.
It wasn’t until West dropped me back at home that I realized I’d been consciously stopping myself from checking my phone all night, resisting the urge to see if Hazel had texted me back.
NINE
Hazel
“Your hair,”Reid said, as I pulled down the handle on the front gate and stepped aside so that he could slip by.
“What do you think?” I asked, fluffing out my midnight-blue choppy layers. Jackson, it turned out, did not believe in subtle change. Thankfully, he hadn’t lopped it all off. He had, however, insisted on curtain bangs that hung in my eyes unless properly styled, which annoyed me to no end. Overall, though, I appreciated the change. It was nice to look in the mirror and see a different reflection. My old one had been growing duller each time I caught sight of her.
“It suits you,” Reid said, taking me in from behind his black-rimmed glasses. His thick gray peacoat looked so warm I wanted to tuck right into it. The weather channel had threatened snow, but right now it was just dark, dreary, and cold.
“Why are you in a t-shirt?” he asked, sizing up the rest of me after the distraction of my new hair wore off.
“Because I live literally right there.” I pointed to my entrance. When I saw his car pull up, I’d rushed out in nothing but an old band t-shirt and leggings. Honestly, he was lucky I was wearing pants. They were usually the first thing togo anytime I was alone inside the confines of my small apartment.
“You’re going to freeze to death.” He placed a hand between my shoulder blades and guided me back to my door.
“The office is that way.” I pointed behind me.
“And we’ll go once you’re properly dressed.” He waited for me to open the glass-paned wood door that led to my hallway.
“Bossy,” I mumbled, slipping the key into the lock and shoving open the door. It was warped and didn’t quite fit into its frame anymore, so I had to really shove it every time.
“It’s this one,” I said, pointing to the first door on the right. I hadn’t bothered locking it, so I nudged it open with one hand and waited for him to go in first. When he didn’t, I looked up to find him staring down at me with raised eyebrows.
“Unlocked?” he questioned.
“I was right outside.”
He gave his head a small shake and placed a hand on his forehead. “Are you serious right now?”
I sighed and went inside first. “What? It’s a safe area.”
“Except for the whole stalker-slash-cat-thief situation.”
