The man doesn’t miss much. “Since about six months before we broke up.”
He’s holding my hand, tucked between us possessively, and his grip tightens, which shouldn’t make my heart pitter-patter more, but it does.
I hate being here.
No, Ilikebeing here for Elizabeth and her daughter—they’re truly good people, and I hope I’ve done half as much for them as they’ve done for me. I like seeing the Fireballs and Thrusters players I’ve met over the years, and their wives and partners.
But I strongly dislike that I can’t comeherewithout seeing Miller and Stefanie.
I’m faking it well, but it doesn’t matter that it’s been two years.
Seeing them together makes my stomach hurt and sends adrenaline coursing through my veins the same way it did when I walked in on them together in my bedroom.
Betrayal isn’t something I handle well. Nor is having Miller think he has any right to voice any opinions on my life choices, which is exactly what he was trying to do.
And don’t ask how it feels that at least three women who used to be part of my tight inner circle haven’t said hi at all tonight.
Maybe they think I betrayed them in how everything went down.
Honestly, I probably did.
But I did it for the right reasons. Is ahitoo much to ask for?
“The whole point of us being on this date tonight is for me to have all of the right information so that I’m justified when I break his nose,” Fletcher mutters as he pulls me closer.
“No breaking noses at wedding receptions.”
“It would be an accident. Those happen a lot when I’m around, as my face can attest.”
I bury my head in his shoulder and stifle an honest laugh that settles some of the nerves in my stomach, getting a thicker waft of cedarwood and patchouli. It reminds me of my grandpa.
Some of my favorite wispy childhood memories are of sneaking into my grandpa’s den at their country home where he kept a wooden puzzle box that I’d play with while he smoked a pipe. Long before I found soccer, long before my parents’ divorce, long before my injury, long before Miller and Stefanie tore my entire world apart.
It’s a safe space. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“I can still break his nose.”
“I prefer psychological revenge, but again, thank you for the very kind offer.”
“Want me to break her nose?”
“Fletcher.”
I pull back enough to see a half smirk on his face, which makes me do one more thing that I wasn’t sure I’d pull off tonight.
I laugh.Again. Honestly.
I’ve laughed more tonight than I thought I would.
I even forgot for a while that Miller and Stefanie and all of the baggage that accompanies thoughts of them were even here.
“You’re a very good wingman,” I tell him.
“He hurt you.”
“I—yes.”
“He hurt you enough that you didn’t think you could be a badass here tonight on your own.”
