But getting dumped by a guy … that got me pitying looks.
And wasn’t that fucked up?
I was pissed.
I was pissed at Halston Cole and Shawn Prescott.
At Leth Sholas for not treating me like the walking wounded over my actual physical wound but over a guy breaking up with me.
At Ramsay for lying. For his mixed signals.
At myself for getting involved with him when I knew it was going to hurt in the end.
I hadn’t realized how bad it was going to feel. It was worse than the knife wound—that I could take a million times over this bullshit.
Mostly I was angry that I could feel this way about someone I didn’t know very well. He hadn’t really shown himself to me, so how could I … how could it feel like he’d broken my heart?
I’d have to be in love with him for that to be true.
How could you love someone who only showed half of himself to you?
In desperate need to feel anything but this low, simmering seething, I’d jumped on the chance at a girls’ night. I could now walk without getting exhausted and my wound only hurt if I jerked my body a certain way. Cammie invited Taran and me to the Lantern, promising Quinn and Ramsay wouldn’t be there because a folk band was playing and it wasn’t their thing.
It was the first time being out in the village that I didn’t feel like everyone treated me to pitying, sympathetic looks. Our neighbors raised their pints when we walked in, and a group of fishermen very kindly gave up their table so I could sit.
We bought them a round as a thank-you and ordered a round of ale for ourselves.
It was a nice night. I’d told Cammie about Greig and had teased her about the attractive young decorator ever since, which was fun. Moreover, since I’d moved in, we’d both noticed a change in Taran. Having me there really did seem to help pull her out of the black hole of grief. Now she joked more with us and even opened up a little about her mom and her failed engagement.
The folk band was made up of three women and a man—a female vocalist, two fiddle players, and a bass violinist. They played a few songs, then took a break so the pubgoers could enjoy socializing among themselves. Then the band would play another few songs and break and so on and so forth.
Itwasa nice night.
For about an hour.
Then Ramsay and Quinn walked in.
“Oh shit,” Cammie muttered under her breath. “Ladies, I’m so sorry.”
Taran glanced over first, her expression tightening as she and Quinn locked eyes for a moment before she turned away.
I was afraid to look at Ramsay.
But I … I couldn’t help myself.
He didn’t even look my way. He found a space with Quinn to squeeze in at the bar.
They didn’t come over, if only to say hello to Cammie.
“Arseholes,” Cammie huffed. “Big man babies.”
“I might go.” Taran shifted, reaching for her purse.
Cammie covered her hand to stop her. “Please don’t. You … I say this with the utmost kindness and understanding … eventually, you have to coexist with him.”
They shared a long, loaded look.
Finally, Taran nodded, and the tension drained from Cammie.
