“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? What the hell, Fran? You’re making a move on me? You know I’m with Harrison.”
She laughs. “For how long? This week? This month? How long will he string you along for?”
“What are you talking about?”
She rises on her knees, which puts her boobs right in my face. I almost want to take her hand and put it on my crotch so she can see how little effect she has on me.
“Didn’t he tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“He’s moving back to Boston. His old firm is promoting him or something.”
I don’t believe her, but that doesn’t stop my heart from sinking.
“And how would you know that?”
“Because that attorney I met in Boston, Bradley, told me. He got a little drunk at the gallery opening, and when he discovered our connection, he just opened up. Told meallhis secrets.”
“Just like that?”
She smiles. “Just like that.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She shrugs. “Suit yourself. But it’s true. I even heard his boss, Mr. Jones, say he wanted to speak to him on Wednesday. The old man probably wants to fire him before he has a chance to quit. Serves him right.”
I stand and walk to Rosie’s tank. “When did you become so…resentful, revengeful, I don’t know…angry?”
Out of all the reactions I could have expected from Fran, I didn’t expect her to curl up in the corner of the couch and look as sad as she does.
“Life can be a bag of shit, Fletcher. There’s only so many times you can be knocked down before you come back fighting.”
“What happened?”
“I fell in love in Paris,” she says, staring at the carpet as if she’s unaware of what’s in front of her. “The kind of forever love that I lost when I lost you.”
I bite my cheek to stop from saying something. She was the one who broke things off and left.
“My girlfriend said he was going to propose to me. He took me on a weekend away to Bordeaux. We drank wine, made love, and I thought that was it. Under the shade of a tree, overlooking miles of grapevines stretching as far as we could see, he was going to propose. But he was actually saying goodbye. He’d been having an affair with someone else, and she got pregnant. He said he’d always wanted to be a father. I didn’t know.”
I sit on the armchair next to the couch and rest my elbows on my knees.
“Fran, please tell me that you don’t want to take George to Europe so you can step into the role of the perfect mother to get a guy back.”
“I thought about it.”
I don’t know what shocks me more, that she thought about it or that she’s confessed to thinking about it.
“I told him I have a son. That he could live with us. But he didn’t want that. He was in love with this other woman and wanted to marry her.Iwas the bit on the side, not her.”
“So why go through with all this?”
“I thought maybe you and I could have another chance. I do miss George, Fletcher. He’s an amazing boy, and I’m missing all the kid things he’s doing. And I miss you. I miss us and what we had.”
I can’t take this anymore. “Fran, we were young when we had George. Yes, we were in love, but we also wanted different things. I care for you because you’re a friend and George’s mom, but that’s it.”
