CHAPTER NINETEEN
The TLC Song, “No Scrubs,” wakes me from the groggy sleep I’d been pulling myself from at a slow pace. There’s no point in waking up early on a Saturday morning. My phone rests on the towel I threw on the floor after last night’s shower.
“Hello?” My thick voice cracks from sleep.
Cody laughs on the other end. “Still like those Saturday sleep ins? Are you going to make it to lunch?”
“Of course, Cody. It’s steps from my apartment.” Isn’t it funny how quirks you found cute while dating become fucking annoying when you aren’t? Like Cody’s constant need to check in and make sure I’m running on time. I used to think it sweet he looked out for me, now I recognize it as the patronizing behavior it is.
“Okay, I’ll see you at twelve o’clock.”
“Got it.” We hang up and I throw back the covers not ready to face the world, but I need to get this done and over with.
When Cody texted me last night after running into him and asked me to lunch, I didn’t see the harm in agreeing. Now I’m not so sure it’s a great idea. I'll have to tell Ryland one day. If I’m not over to his place by our unspoken agreed time — noon — he'll come looking for me.
There isn’t a reason for me to worry. It’s a quick coffee with Cody to hear out what he wants to say and then right back up here to continue on with whatever Ryland and I have started. It’s not even a detour, more like a mid-morning pit stop, but my gut warns me Ryland won’t see it the same way.
Rather than face him, I’ll send a text because really for all I know he’s still out for his morning run. If I’m lucky he won't even read it until I’m already back and the whole issue will be moot.
I wait until I’m dressed in a pair of jeans, sweater and a black fleece jacket with a cute little Golden Gate Bridge embroidered in the left corner before I text Ryland.
Me:Going to be late today. I’m meeting someone for a coffee at the shop on the street.
His rapid reply dings my phone before I’ve finished applying powder. Not on a run then. I skip the mascara to try and leave faster, but a girl can’t leave the house without a little cover up.
Ryland:Who?
He would ask who. Why did I think I’d get away with not telling him who? Oh right. The running thing. Why couldn’t he be running?
Me:Cody. He wanted to grab a coffee and talk. I won’t be long.
A door closes nearby and I wait for Ryland to barge into my apartment, but it doesn’t happen.
Ryland:What’s he want to talk about?
Me:I don’t know. That’s why I’m meeting him. I’ll tell you when I get back. Love you.
I hurry to delete the declaration of love and hit send. What the hell is wrong with me? You don’t use those words in a text. I don’t say them at all. Not first anyway.
With the text sent, I rush out of the apartment expecting Ryland in the hallway waiting for me, but it’s empty. I bound down the four flights of stairs ready to get this meeting over with and get back to my life.
The book-café store combo is directly to the right of the main lobby entrance making my trip take a mere three minutes or less. The large heavy wooden door pulls open and a little bell dings when I walk in. Similar to many businesses in San Francisco, the walls are exposed brick. Menu boards and other displays are hung throughout. It’s the type of place you sit and pass a quiet Sunday morning.
Cody waves from a corner where he’s placed himself at a round table with two matching rounded bottom wooden seats. On the table two thick steaming ceramic mugs wait.
I reach the table and slide on to the seat not bothering to move it back at all. “Hey.”
Cody startles in his seat a few inches. In the past I always tried to maintain a certain decorum around him. He had an image to uphold and all that jazz. I wanted to be perfect for him. Now I realize perfect only looks nice on the outside. On the inside your fiancé is too busy to taste cake samples with you, but finds time to sleep with a coworker. Not that I’m not randomly bitter or anything.
“Hey I picked you up a coffee, one sugar. Exactly how you take it.” Cody grins at me like he should get a freaking medal because he remembered the drink his girlfriend of four years preferred. It’s coffee and a single sugar packet, not complicated.
Saturday morning…afternoon and Cody’s dressed to impress as ever. A navy suit blazer hangs over the back of his chair while he wears a pressed white shirt with a red tie. His hair gelled with the perfect amount of fluff on top rounds out his image. It's his power outfit. He must mean business.
“Thanks.” I blow on the steam not ready to try and drink the brownish liquid yet. “What’s up?”
He lays both hands on the table palms down, leaving himself open should I choose to attack him with a plastic butter knife. I’m sure it’d be easy to find one lying around the café. Violent thoughts about Cody have become second nature to me. I'm not sure if I can see his face and not immediately think of nearby places to hide the body.
“It was a shock seeing you last night. I realized with how our relationship ended between us, we never had the chance to work through the breakup. Are you doing okay?”
