“Sorry, Thatch. It’s just strange seeing the two of you being so cozy. You pulled out her chair, you’re checking on her order… we thought you were married to some other girl. We didn’t realize you and Mads were back together.”
I cleared my throat, my face flushing. “I am married. Mads and I are just…”
“Working on our relationship,” she said as she grabbed my hand and covered it with hers where everyone could see it.
I stared at her but didn’t say anything. Was that what we were doing? We hadn’t really defined it. In truth, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. My mind was all over the place. One minute I wanted to work on my marriage and stay with Carrie, and the other all I could think about was Madison. I was a fucking mess.
Her comment threw me off for a while, but soon we had ordered, the food arrived, and they spent time catching me up on what everyone had been doing since I’d lost touch.
No one brought up the reason that I’d lost touch was that they were all both my and Madison’s friends. I hadn’t wanted to make them choose. In fact, I hadn’t wanted to see anyone who would remind me of her after she broke the engagement.
Everyone was gracious enough not to bring up the reason I hadn’t seen any of them in years. Especially since the reason was sitting right next to me.
“And what have you been up to, Thatch?” one of my friends asked. Everyone fell silent in a way they hadn’t since we’d arrived together. It was clear they wanted a run-down of my personal life.
I cleared my throat. “Oh, I’m boring,” I chuckled.
“Hardly,” my friend Ashcroft said. “We know you took over as CEO after your father passed away. I was sorry to hear about your dad, by the way.”
Everyone else murmured condolences as well. I’d seen their names on floral sprays at the funeral and had my assistant send out thank you notes on my behalf.
“Thanks,” I nodded. “It was difficult right after it happened, but I’m starting to adapt to the new role.”
“And we heard you married a girl who’s not from Atlanta,” Elle Bancroft said. “I take it you’re…notdivorced?”
“That’s right,” I nodded, uncomfortable. I didn’t want to go into details about Carrie. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of her exactly, but they’d all told me what their wives or husbands did. Everyone was impressive. There were lawyers, doctors, politicians, real estate moguls, businessmen or women—no one was like Carrie.
“What does she do?” someone asked.
I took a long sip of my whiskey. “She doesn’t work right now. She’s on several committees around town. She’s been picked to chair an event that’s coming up soon, too.” It occurred to me that I wasn’t sure if the Orchid Ball was tomorrow night or Saturday night. I made a mental note to check with Carrie.
People murmured politely, but it was clear they were underwhelmed by my wife.
“And where is it you’re living?”
“Indigo Falls,” I said, hating that I felt embarrassed. “It’s a small town about thirty minutes from here.”
They nodded and conversation seemed to lag. Their smiles seemed forced, and I wondered if they were holding themselves back from being brutally honest because they’d matured and hid things better, or because I was an old friend they didn’t want to hurt.
Madison leaned forward. “Isn’t she a teacher?”
I sat up straighter. “She’s educated to be a teacher. She hasn’t used the degree yet, though.”
Ashcroft perked up. “A professor? Where does she want to work whenever she decides to use her degrees? Emory, perhaps?”
Madison laughed. “No, notthatkind of teacher. She could teach middle or high school. Isn’t that right, Thatch?”
The smiles fell off everyone’s faces, and I saw Madison exchange snarky looks with a couple of the women.
“Yes,” I said, a muscle in my jaw flexing. I didn’t like everyone thinking badly of Carrie. Including me. “If she decides to work, she’ll teach history at the local high school.”
Everyone stared at me as if I’d said she was going to become a stripper or an off-grid chicken farmer. People in our social group werenotschoolteachers.
“That’s… interesting,” someone said.
“What do you do in Indigo Falls for fun?” Ashcroft asked. “Is it a place we’d like to check out?”
Oh my God, no. I couldn’t imagine any of them in Indigo Falls. They’d look down on everyone and everything as if they were walking around a third world country. “I don’t think…”
