“Is that Rebecca?” I whisper.
Meg winces. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you she was coming.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s fine.”
Rebecca beams at us from the porch, one hand over her eyes, shielding them from the sun. “Hey, Loren. I didn’t know you were coming. How was the reunion?”
Meg squeezes my arm for moral support.
“Hey, Rebecca. The reunion was fine.” That’s all I want to say about that. As much as I like Rebecca, she has her own relationship woes to worry about without adding mine to the pile.
Determined to distract myself so I don’t fall to pieces, I ask Meg for the grand tour. The house is small but cute, and all the updates to the kitchen make it feel more modern. Meg will put her own stamp on it in no time. I’m so happy she has this for herself, especially since she’s been looking for so long.
Rebecca’s shoe taps against the refurbished hardwood floor as she studies the living room. “Do you know what would look great in here? A green couch.”
“I love green couches,” Meg agrees.
My head is too wrapped up in everything that’s happened to even think about couches or anything else.
A phone rings, and we all rush over to where we discarded our purses on the kitchen island to see which one of us is getting a call. Turns out, it’s Rebecca. Her lips purse as she frowns down at the screen, and I’m close enough to see Josh’s face smiling back at me from beneath a Vanderbilt hat.
What the hell is he doing still calling her? “Is that your ex?”
She nods. “Yeah. He keeps wanting to meet up for coffee.”
Meg folds her arms over her chest as she scowls at Rebecca’s phone like it’s covered in worms. “You’re not thinking of going, are you?”
Rebecca tucks her phone into her back pocket without answering the call. “I don’t know. I mean, we dated for so long, the least I can do is hear him out.”
Josh doesn’t deserve more chances to lie. He doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as Rebecca James.
And I can think of one way to keep him away forever.
You always hear about the bro-code.Don’t snitch.Always have your bro’s back. Blah blah blah. What about us women? Why don’t we have some catchy name for our relationships?
I’ll tell you why: Because the world wants to pit us against each other. They want us squabbling and fighting and tearing each other down instead of building each other up. We’re all “competing” against each other, hoping a guy will choose us, when we should be the ones choosing ourselves.
Rebecca needs to hear the truth, just like I did.
She’s my friend and she deserves total honesty.
I don’t know how this is going to impact my job, but I can’t let Rebecca make the biggest mistake of her life. If she still chooses Josh after she knows everything, then that’s on her.
But if I continue to keep this terrible secret, that’s on me.
“He doesn’t deserve it.”
Rebecca glances at me, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Just rip the band-aid off. Keep it short and sweet. “Josh is a lying, cheating ratbag. He wasn’t just cheating on you. He was cheating on you with me.”
Rebecca goes as still as the weird concrete owl perched on the corner of the railing.
“I swear I didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” I say, my voice catching. “We met at his great aunt’s funeral back in Maryland. He’s the reason I moved to Nashville. The moment I found out, I broke things off. Told him to tell you or I would.” If only I’d been strong enough back then. “But I chickened out and had Elliott do it instead. I should’ve told you as soon as I found out, but I was too afraid to lose my job. I understand if you never want to look at me again. I’m so sorry, Rebecca. I hope someday you can forgive me.” I turn on my heel and run for the door, shame washing over me like a shower of ice.
All I want is to curl up in Elliott’s arms and cry on his big, strong shoulder.
Elliott.
