“I’m not immune to his charm,” I say dryly. I suppose I funded their meet-cute too.
“I’m sure you’re not.” She frowns. “He stopped coming in for a few weeks, but I didn’t think much about it because he told me he was going on a road trip.”
I glance over at Hannah out of the corner of my eye, and she subtly nods her head. Jade just confirmed what I already suspected. He was talking with other women, plural—and who knows what else—before we broke up, and not just online. Fuck him for constantly making me feel like I was crazy.
“Then, out of the blue, he started showing up regularly again,” she continues. “Alone. He told me the trip fell through, and he found a construction job locally. In retrospect, I should have questioned how much he was working considering how often he randomly stopped by in the middle of the day to see me.”
The waitress returns to the table and slides our mugs in front of us with a bowl of creamers in the middle of the table.
“If you want anything else, holler,” she says, walking back towards the coffee station behind the counter.
“Thank you,” Jade calls after her.
“So, when did you start seeing each other? Dating?” Hannah prompts, stirring sugar into her mug.
“Back in the summer sometime. It was very casual. Dinner, movies, drinks. That suited me fine, to be honest. I didn’t want a boyfriend, just a little fun.” She cringes and looks down into her mug.
“What changed?” I take a sip of my hot drink to soothe the itch in my throat.
“He used to spend the night once, twice a week at the most, but over the past month he’s been here more often than not. He started asking to borrow my car. Conveniently lost his bank card more than once. The red flags really started waving when he started raving all the time about his crazy ex trying to get revenge.”
“That would be me.” I huff and tip my head towards the ceiling. I’ve always been the villain in his story.
“I’m sorry that I believed him even briefly,” she apologizes, and I know it’s sincere.
“It’s not your fault, Jade. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I need to know the rest.”
“He told me you were stalking him. Randomly showing up at his house. Calling him. Texting. Making accusations and calling the police on him.” Quieter, she says, “He said you weren’t taking your medication and needed professional help.”
“Of course he did,” I mutter, wiping my red lipstick from the rim of the cup with my thumb.
“He said he was going to get a restraining order if it continued.”
“Fucking asshole,” Hannah mutters, picking up her mug.
“I wish I had thought of that sooner.” I roll my eyes. “Could have saved myself some grief.”
“I was with him when a police officer questioned him about some vandalism. He said he was with me. I was caught off guard and just nodded my head like an idiot backing up his claim. I have no idea where he was.” She rests her elbows on the table and cups her hands over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you for telling me. Do you mind if Mason—that’s the police officer you spoke to—reaches out to you again? I don’t think anything will come of it, but it’s important that it’s on record.”
“Of course not. I’ll do whatever I can to help.” She riffles through her purse by her side. “I also brought these with me. He left them in a dish beside the door.” She plops keys on the table and pushes them towards me. “I’ve been very busy for the past couple of days looking for evidence that he’s shady. When I was going through the glove compartment of the truck, I found the ownership and insurance papers. It’s still under your name.”
“Because it’s her truck,” Hannah snorts. “The fucker wouldn’t give it back to her.”
“Seriously?” Her brown eyes widen as she pushes them closer to me. “Here, take them. Some guy in a black Escalade picked him up outside my building this morning. He was excited, said he wouldn’t be back for a couple of days if things went well. Your truck’s parked behind my building. I can show you.”
“But what about you?” I ask with concern. “He will lose his mind if it’s not there when he gets back.” I would hate for anything to happen to her because of me.
“Don’t worry about me,” she tries to assure me. “As soon as we agreed to meet, I started putting plans in motion. After he left, I blocked him on all my socials and on my phone. I’m going to my parents’ for a few days, maybe a week. I haven’t decided. He doesn’t have a key to my apartment, and it’s a secure building. If he causes any problems, my next-door neighbour Mitch will put the fear of God into him before he calls the police. He can’t stand him.”
“Few people can.” Hannah scrunches her nose.
I pick up the keys and weigh them in my palm. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you. So much.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m just doing my best to make things right,” she says, taking her last sip of coffee. “Do you want to go get your truck?” She places a twenty-dollar bill under her empty mug and stands.
“Fucking right I do.”
