She’d married the idea of safety.
But maybe she didn’t feel safe at all.
“I followed the trial.”
My words had Ariana frozen now, her gaze stuck somewhere around my chest like she couldn’t look me in the eye.
“I was so proud of you,” I said, throat tight with the honesty. “The day of Jay’s conviction, I tried texting you.”
I could see it in real time, how Ariana was shutting down more and more with each word I said, but I couldn’t stop.
“It bounced. The text never went through. I tried calling, and it said the number was no longer in service.”
Another crack of lightning, and this time, close enough that the thunder rolled immediately. The wind picked up, blowing Ariana’s hair wildly.
I swallowed hard. “Ari… I hate how everything went down. I know you say it’s in the past, but I—” I paused, searching for breath that suddenly felt scarce. “I think about it. All the time. That day. Don’t you?”
A cloud passed over her expression just like the ones darkening the sky. She finally lifted her eyes to mine, and they might as well have been a knife to my kidney. “The day you left? There. I finished the thought for you. And no, I don’t think about it. I haven’t thought about it in years.”
Lie.
It was there in the way she tore her gaze from mine, in how she crossed her arms hard over her chest.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I tried.
“You always have a choice,” she shot back.
“I was trying to do what was best for you.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for letting me have a say in what that was.”
Thunder rumbled, and the sky opened.
“Great,” Ariana muttered, and then she was off.
“Ariana,” I started, but she was already walking again, steps furious and quick.
Rain fell in brutal, heavy sheets, so sudden it was like someone tipped the entire goddamn bay on top of us. Ariana broke into a run, sprinting for the nearest bridge, the paper bag in her hand quickly becoming soggy. I chased her, soaked instantly, water plastering my shirt to my chest.
We ducked under the arch just as the downpour intensified, and there we were — alone, breathless, dripping.
The river churned beside us. Lightning flashed again, closer this time.
She had one hand braced on her hips, chest heaving. I was a safe arm’s length away, though every nerve in my body begged me to close it.
“Ariana…” I tried again, softer now. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
She didn’t look up, but her voice broke. She shook her head. “This day was so good. It was nice. And then you—” She stopped, breath sharp. “You ruined it.”
“I ruined it by asking if you’re happy?”
She scoffed, glaring at me before she whipped out her phone and started thumbing away at something.
“I’m serious, what did I do but ask how your marriage is? I didn’t realize that was an off-limits topic.”
“You didn’t ask because you actually care,” she said, closing her phone screen. “You say you want my happiness, but admit it — you were hoping I would say I wasn’t happy. You were hoping for my misery.”
“Fine!” I snapped.
