“Violet’s kids are not sleeping. They sneak into her bed every night, so meat has been off the menu for a while,” Bella says with a smirk that highlights the dimples in her cheeks. She may look sweet, but Bella lays everything out onthe table at our meetups. There are no secrets between us if she can help it.
“How old are your kids now?” I feel bad for asking because I should know this. But I have been a lousy friend for years, consumed completely by our family business.
“Seven, five, and two. Our two-year-old sleeps through the night. I just don’t have it in me to battle with a seven-year-old at all hours of the night. I’m sleep deprived, and Levi has extreme night terrors, so we manage more sleep if he sleeps with us.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Only his brother is also experiencing the same nightmares, so Benjamin sleeps with Owen, and I sleep with Levi.” She flips her dark hair over her shoulder and lowers her gaze to the menu.
“This is not funny,” I tell Violet. “You must be exhausted.”
“And sex deprived,” Cassie adds.
“No, it’s shocking,” Bella pipes up in a serious tone. But then she grins at Violet. “Tell her about the time when Ben and you were having sex, and Levi walked in and screamed at Ben, thinking he was hurting you because we all know you’re a moaner.”
Violet shakes her head, but she’s grinning so I stop being on the defensive. “He started punching Benjamin’s back, telling him to stop hurting me, and since it had been a while, Benjamin was about to blow, and there was no turning back at this point. All he could manage was, “Son, get out,” between strained breaths of his release. Levi grabbed my phone and started to call 9-1-1.”
I can’t help but smile. “He’s a smart boy to know what number to call.”
“Help, my daddy is giving my mommy an orgasm,” Bella whispers.
We all giggle. Violet is a nurse so she taught her kids atan early age what to do in an emergency. I laugh again, imagining her son calling 9-1-1.
“So the night terrors come from him being scarred, and he’s making sure that doesn’t happen again,” Cassie says, tongue in cheek.
“He’s aced that,” Violet says and groans.
The server appears and takes our order. “I’ll also have the fillet mignon,” I add.
“You’re not getting any either?” Violet cocks an eyebrow.
“Well,” I hesitate. “I’m not as drought-stricken as you.”
“Have you heard from…” Cassie coughs, “… him?”
I catch Bella giving a subtle shake of her head to our friends.
No,” I say quickly. “Well, apart from that one email and a letter I received three years ago, he has never tried to call or see me. Even after the games when we played Chicago, he gave me nothing. I went on the road a few times when we played them to see if he made a mistake. He saw me, I’m sure of it, yet he ran to the safety of their locker room rather than stop to speak to me.”
“Double back. He sent you an email?” Cassie asks.
“And wrote you a letter? How sweet,” Violet adds.
“You never told us about this,” Bella says, put out. “What did it say?”
I take another mouthful of my wine. “I deleted the email and returned the letter to the sender.”
“Without opening it?” Bella asks incredulously. “Without knowing what was inside?”
My friends’ mouths are open, and they are gaping at me like I have two heads. I didn’t tell anyone. “If he doesn’t have the balls to come and see me and talk since he knows where I live, or at least call, then I wasn’t interested in what he had to say in a letter because he’s a coward. He ran without a word and was too gutless to speak face-to-face.”
Silence surrounds our table.
“Some people find it better to express themselves in the written form before confronting the person,” Bella says gently.
“Well, he never tried again. He won’t even look at me.”
“Do you still like him?” Violet asks.
“I fucking hate him.” I down the rest of my wine and signal to the waiter for another drink.
“She’s still in love with him,” Bella says quietly.
