“What happened?” I ask when I’m finally able to speak.
“His name is Evan. We got married in the spring before he went away to boot camp.” She shakes her head and I watch tears fall onto her lap, so I go to the bar and get a stack of napkins and hand them to her when I return.
“He came home two weeks ago after going to Afghanistan, and served me with divorce papers.” She laughs and it sound hollow, and then she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a large drink.
“Well, he didn’t actually serve me with them. I haven’t even seen him since he’s been home. He had his mom bring them to me. Can you believe that crap?” Actually, no, I couldn’t. That was horrible.
“I wasn’t even married for a year. I had sex one time the night we were married, the night before he went away to boot camp.” She cries harder.
“Oh, my god,” I whisper, feeling tears fill my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” December asks.
“I don’t know. I think deep down I knew he was done with me. I was humiliated.” She shrugs, and I stand and walk around the table to wrap my arms around her.
“What do you mean?”
“When he first went away, he would call every night, but then things changed, and the phone calls became less and less frequent. I knew he would have a hard time keeping in contact, but I felt like he just never tried to call me. Eventually, he stopped calling at all. His mom would call me once a week to ask how I was. I started dreading those calls, and resenting him. Then his mom stopped calling, and two weeks ago, a friend of ours said he was home. He had gotten out early,and he was going to be moving to Tennessee. The next day, I got the divorce papers.” She sobs, and I look around the table, at a loss for words.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. He is obviously an asshole,” Harmony says, and I nod, agreeing with her.
“What is his last name?” Ashlyn asks, looking white as a ghost.
“Baristea,” June mutters, and Ashlyn looks at me.
“What?”
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?” Hanna asks, sitting forward like this is a soap opera.
“Jax just hired a guy named Evan. He was in the Marines and his convoy was blown up. All of his friends were killed; he was the only survivor. He is supposed to start in two weeks.”
“Oh, God,” June whimpers. “So he’s moving here.” I cannot even believe this is happening.
“Yeah, since Jax’s case load has been building up, he wanted to hire some new guys, and this guy, Evan, was recommended…by one of Wes’ friends actually.”
“Tell Jax he can’t hire him,” Harmony says.
“No,” June whispers. “If it’s true he lost all of his friends and all that happened to him, then he needs this. Don’t take that from him,” she breathes, and more tears fill my eyes. That is love—caring about what the other person is facing, even if they don’t care about you.
“You’re moving home next year,” December reminds her softly.
“Then I have a year to get over him.”
“We will help you, whatever you need,” I tell her.
“I need to get drunk,” June states.
“That, we can do,” Willow says, handing her the bottle of tequila.
“I need to call Wes,” I slur when the girls start saying they are going to head home.
“You’re not going to ride with us?” my sisters ask.
“No, Wes wants to pick me up.” I smile.
“Wes is so hot and nice,” December mumbles, leaning on my arm.
