“How long have you been back?” she asked taking a sip from her latte.
I drank from my espresso and answered “About a month now.” I noticed she was about to say, ‘why haven’t you called me?’ so I added “I’m sorry I hadn’t said anything it’s just… The day after I came back I went to your place. Well, your mom’s place and you weren’t there so…”
“So you found out I’m married.” She finished the sentence for me “And you also thought I would hold a grudge against your after that very non-subtly, completely shitty way of dumping my ass. It’s been like, over two years, Riley.”
“I see you haven’t lost your mind-reading style.”
She looked at her surroundings. We were sitting on a table close to the back at a Starbucks. “It’s not like you make it really hard.” She caught a glimpse of my arm, trying not to stare and asked “So, how are you?”
“Fine, doing great.” She didn’t smile, she didn’t buy that. I sighed “Actually… that is not true. I just found out my parents are getting a divorce, my brother was kicked out of college and has drug issues, and my girl― my ex-girlfriend got married. It’s being a lot to take in.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.”
I stirred my espresso and finished it in one gulp. “Why didn’t you tell me? About the wedding.”
She licked her lips, pulled a strain of hair behind her ear and with her eyes avoiding mine said “Things got complicated after you left, and even more complicated after you broke it up.” She wanted to tell me, and I wanted to know. There were so many things that needed to be said between us. “There were so many questions I’ve been wanting to ask you, and now that you’re here I can’t come up with one. I can’t even come up with something to tell you.”
“You’re still my best friend, Faye. No matter what happened.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I know. And you’re still mine.” She finished her latte and added “I guess, the most apt thing to say is… welcome back.”
Faye took me home in her 2013 Lexus. I wanted to ask what she could be doing for a living to be able to get her hands on that car but it felt too intrusive. She parked in front of my house, pulled out the bags from the truck and help me carry them up the porch. I can’t really carry anything heavy with my left arm. She noticed it, I caught her staring at it more than a couple of times, but she didn’t ask about it; no one wanted to ask about my arm. No one wanted to ask about what had happened to me in my tours. And I didn’t want to tell them.
My mother opened the front door and took the bags from Faye’s hands, then leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Faye, darling! It’s being such a long time.”
“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Brenan.” She replied.
“You staying? I can make some coffee.”
“No, thanks. I should head home. Another time.”
My mother nodded and went inside the house, to, not very shyly give us time alone.
“So you’re going home?” I asked.
“Yeah, I got a couple of things I gotta do so…” I nodded. “Listen, why don’t you come tomorrow for lunch? We can catch up and everything. Today it was a bit of a rush.”
I swallowed as I thought if I wanted to go to her home. See where she lived with the person she promised to love for the rest of her life. I didn’t know if I was ready. What if the asshole was there?
“What about your…?”
“Comes home at six. Is that a yes?”
That wasn’t even close to a yes, but I’ve always been horrible at saying no to her. “Sure.”
“It’s meatball sub still your favorite?”
I grinned, “It is.”
“Great.”
She turned to leave and I felt the need to shout out how sorry I was. How I understood if there was a part of her that hated me but she seemed to be okay with me. She seemed to really care for me, at least enough to pretend she’s not too angry.
I walked inside, helped my mother organized everything I bought and then went upstairs. I stopped by Connor’s bedroom and knocked.
He answered with a loud “Fuck off.”
“You didn’t even know it was me.” I pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter, fuck off.”
“What if it would’ve been mom?” I asked.
He opened the door slightly to let me see his face “How many times do I have to say fuck off before you take the hint?”
“Look, Connor I just wanted to talk to you. See what’s up with you.”
“Don’t you have someone to kill or something?” he spat, then closed the door at me.
I felt my heart heavy as I thought how close we’d been once, and how I couldn’t even speak to him without him saying something offensive.
Once in my bedroom, I took my clothes off, changed the bandage and got into bed thinking I had made a mistake by accepting Faye’s invitation. She’s married, I shouldn’t be spending alone time with her. Maybe her spouse would be uncomfortable with her hanging out with her ex-girlfriend, who she dated for five years. Or maybe Faye had gotten over me so fast and had fallen so deeply in love with someone else there was nothing to be afraid of. That thought hurt me more.
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