He draws his lips in, opening the taco sauce. “I…I went on a date with someone Brad set me up with. Just one date. I don’t think it’ll go anywhere.”
I always knew I could count on fucking Brad from accounting to come through with a quick after-divorce date. Can’t have Lewis getting lonely. Can’t have my side of the bed getting cold.
The knife in my gut twists at the mental image of him sitting across the table from her. Whoever she might be. Did he like her? Did he think she was pretty? Did she like him back? Did they kiss? Or…
Someday, I have no doubt he will remarry, and that woman will become Taylor’s stepmother. Someday, I’ll have to deal with that, and perhaps even attend a wedding if I’m invited.
“That’s nice,” I say simply. There’s nothing else to say. We said it all on the pages where our signatures have now dried.
“Estelle,” he says. “That was her name.”
The name, at least, gives me a small reason to smile. “What, is she a nineties talent agent?”
“Cloud of smoke, red lipstick, and everything,” he says, immediately catching myFriendsreference.
And just like that, we’re back to normal. Or, at least, whatever our new normal is.
It’s always been easy with Lewis, but maybe that’s the problem. It became too easy. Too easy to slip into the roommates routine. Too easy to be hateful toward each other over simple things just because we assumed we were rock solid. Becausewe’d been together for so long, through so much. We didn’t think we had to work for it anymore.
Eventually, our rock solid became rock bottom, and instead of fighting for our way back, we washed our hands of it all and walked away.
He moves to the fridge to get a drink, then holds the pitcher of tea out in my direction and, when I nod, pours me a glass. It’s easy to allow this to feel normal, but I can’t forget that it’s not.
Tomorrow, he goes home. Tomorrow, this all ends.
When my phone starts vibrating and I spot Mom’s name on the screen, I nearly drop the bowl I’m holding. Lewis turns around quickly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, it’s Mom. Sorry. I need to take this.” I back away from the island and down the hall to my bedroom. The last thing I need is for Mom to hear him in the background and assume we’re getting back together or something.
In the bedroom with my door shut, I answer.
“Mom?” I don’t even know where to start. There’s so much I want to ask her now that I have her on the phone—who had access to Foxglove, why she never told me about her sister, and why EJ is screening her calls.
“I hear you have a visitor.” Her voice is distant. Cold.
“What?” My blood turns to slush as I hear Lewis talking to Taylor outside the door, telling her it’s time to eat.
“Lewis. Is he still there?”
“What are you talking about?”
“He told me he was coming,” she says, sounding pleased with herself. “Are you two playing nice?”
Thisis why she called? Not because I’ve called her half a dozen times asking her to call me back. Not because she wanted to check in on her daughter after a brutal divorce. Not even because she wanted to check in on her grandchild after she wasuprooted from the only home she’s ever known. No, it’s because her beloved son-in-law is here.
I should’ve known better.
I’ve always suspected Mom loves Lewis more than she loves me, but here’s the proof in black and white.
“What do you want, Mom?”
“I wanted to see how it’s going.”
“You wanted to gossip.” I suck in a deep breath, then look down at my phone. I can hear her saying something, but I don’t know what. If I end this call, there’s a good chance I won’t hear from her again, but what use is this?
This isn’t the phone call I expected or wanted. It’s not the phone call or conversation I need.
