I wanted to pull her to me and give her a hug. Instead, we wandered into the next aisle in silence, her shoulders slightly slumped. Hoping to lift her mood, I grabbed a painting of a rooster that was both disturbingly lifelike and terrifyingly animated at the same time.
“What about this one?” I asked.
She glanced up, her sad demeanor cracking as soon as she saw it. “That’s perfect,” she said through a laugh.
The spell was broken. Her smile was back.
At the checkout line, I tried to pay for her selections, but Hazel insisted. Thankfully, it wasn’t too expensive, or I would have fought her harder. If I was being honest, her financial situation had me far more stressed out than I should be. And knowing that if I failed to locate Vermont she’d be sending all of her newfound lotto wealth to some psychopath made me even more concerned. I hated to sound heartless, but if I had any say in the matter, I might have suggested she pay off her debts and let the cat live out the rest of its days in its new home. But I knew exactly the kind of look Hazel would give me if I said that out loud. And the last thing I wanted was for her to think less of me.
Still, knowing she had all that credit card debt made my stomach sink. I hated the idea of her struggling for money all these years.
We carried our “treasures,” as Hazel called them, out to the car and loaded them into the trunk. With that mission complete, I drove us to the grocery store, landing us a parking spot right up front.
“You know you passed three other stores on your way here, right?” she asked, as we got out of the car and walked to the entrance.
“This is my grocery store,” I said. It was farther away, but I liked this one. It was the cleanest in the area and the best stocked.
She let out a soft laugh. “Of course it is.”
Something about grocery shopping in the fall hit different. There were poinsettias and wreaths on display outside, advertisements for holiday deals everywhere you turned, extra cookies in the baked goods section. Grocery shopping had always been one of my favorite errands.
I grabbed the cart and pushed it to the produce section, Hazel by my side.
“What should we make?” she asked, eyeing a bag of peppers. “Oh, what about Indian! I saw a recipe on the Food Network the other day that looked amazing.”
I chuckled. “Indian? I think that’s a bit ambitious for your first meal.”
“That’s why it’ll be fun to try.”
“It’s taco night,” I said matter-of-factly. I always had tacos on Saturday. It was the perfect meal to make too much of and use as leftovers for lunch over the following days.
Hazel’s lips parted in that cute way they always did when I said something incomprehensible to her. “Seriously? You have a pre-planned menu.”
I shrugged. “I mean, not for every single day, but sometimes it’s nice to have a line-up of dinners.”
“It’s also nice to try something new.”
I bagged a head of lettuce and set it in the cart. “You cooking is the new part of the evening. We don’t need to add anything extra.”
Hazel bit back her smile. Her eyes twinkled as she readied her next argument.
“Reid?” A new voice called my name.
Hazel’s confused eyes met mine for a brief second before we both turned.
Recognition slammed into my brain a second before I saw her.
“Meghan,” I breathed. My ex-wife stood before us, looking obnoxiously good in her athleisure wear. Her blonde hair was pulled back into an impossibly tight ponytail. She stood next to a guy just a few inches taller than her. He was thin and obviously older, by the faint wrinkles lining his eyes. I didn’t have to ask to know that this was her new boyfriend.
“I can’t believe it’s you.” Her eyes flashed with a hint of panic at first, but she covered it quickly. I probably only caughtit this time because I’d seen that exact look a million times—usually aimed at my family. The classicugh, I really don’t want to talk to you right now, but I have to pretend to be politeexpression.
“You know I come here,” I said, irritated. This had always beenmyfavorite store. She used to complain the prices were too high and pushed us to shop somewhere else. But now, apparently she’d had a change of heart. I wondered if it had to do with the guy by her side.
“This is the only place you can get good organic stuff, right babe?” the boyfriend said. Yep, there it was.
“Right,” she said, shooting me a nervous glance.
As far as divorces go, ours hadn’t been the worst. The marriage had been short, the legalities amicable. And by no means did I hate her or wish anything negative to befall her. With that said, I’d still have preferred never to see her again. She’d said some hurtful things at the end. Things I hadn’t forgotten.
