I watched Ali’s face. To my satisfaction, Ali barely reacted at the mention of his ex. I relaxed once I realized Lizzie wasn’t at the gathering nor likely to show up later. I wanted to have a good time. Ali and I didn’t get many nights out together now that we had kids. Especially not downtown. We got some drinks and chatted with Ali’s friends. Someone ordered appetizers, and there was lots of chatter, catching up, and good-natured ribbing. At some point, we all ended up dancing to the music.
Ali and I took a break from the dance floor and sat at the bar. I was hot and thirsty and eagerly drank the cold water the bartender poured.
Nasser was dancing with Sara, his hands on her hips, which she moved in a sensual sway. “Did they hook up in college?” I asked.
Ali drank from his beer. “No idea.”
“Liar,” I said skeptically. “How many girls in your friend group has he slept with?”
Ali grinned. “No comment.” But the way he said it made me think the true answer was, “All of them.”
I rolled my eyes. “Your cousin really leaves no stone unturned.”
“He’s single. He likes to have a good time. The women are willing. He’s not hurting anyone.”
“I wonder if the women agree.” Nasser was handsome and a successful lawyer. Surely some of those women wanted more than a fling.
One of the guys from the dance floor approached us. I didn’t remember meeting him at the wedding. Ali introduced us.
“Amira, this is Ian Maxwell. He shared an apartment with me and Nasser during our senior year of college.”
“Ian.” We shook hands. “Nice to meet you.”
“So, you’re the girl who stole Ali away from us?” he said laughingly.
“I did?”
“Once our boy got married, we never saw him again.”
“Bull,” Ali interjected. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Once in ten years?” Ian said. “Is that the best we can expect?”
“With work and the kids, it’s not always easy to get away.”
“Do you hear much from Lizzie?” Ian asked.
“Nope.” Ali spoke in a decisive tone that warned against any follow-up questions. Ian got the hint, and he and Ali chatted for a little while before Ian wandered away.
“Does the group get together a lot?” I asked Ali once we were alone.
He shrugged. “Once or twice a year.”
“Really? How come they don’t invite you?”
“They do. I usually skip it.”
“Why? I thought you enjoy getting together with your college buddies.”
“Out of respect for you. There’s no reason to risk running into Lizzie. Seeing the old college gang is not worth upsetting you.”
I blinked. “You’ve skipped seeing your friends on my account?”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I protested, but pleasure rushed through me.
“I’m all about self-preservation,” he joked.
