This time the other woman seems to be on the verge of giving me a standing ovation.
If the waitress’s sympathetic expression is any indication, she must have also sensed my date didn’t go as planned. “I’ll bring it right away.” She turns her attention to Joseph. “Are you eating here, or did you also want to take your food to go?”
“I’ll stay.” Only a small amount of regret weighs down his tone. Or maybe it’s just relief.
Either way, I don’t care. I push to my feet. “I’ll be waiting by the hostess stand,” I tell her.
After the day I’ve had, I don’t feel like making small talk with Joseph while I wait for my food. Because that’s all it will be. I don’t need to hear about the woman he’s still in love with. I don’t need to hear why they got divorced. It has nothing to do with me.
I pick up my glass of wine and toss back the contents. Then I walk to the front entrance, my head held beauty-pageant high. On my way there, I deliberate if I should update Simone, Emily, and Jess via our group chat about what happened. Or text Keshia. Or Garrett.
I stomp on the last thought. I don’t feel like discussing with him what happened when I’m positive he’s still in love with Kenda.
In truth, I don’t want to talk about it with anyone. I want to watch some good TV and eat my dinner.
I want to spend the evening doing self-care…and drinking more wine.
But tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll tell my friends about my night and how I didn’t realize Joseph was married. I doubt Keshia or Garrett will be toodisappointed by my news. Neither seemed to be a fan of his. Garrett always rolls his eyes at the mention of the man, as if he thought Joseph was an idiot.
He might have had a point there.
Lord, how did I not see it coming that Joseph was planning to dump me?
Am I really that clueless when it comes to men?
8
GARRETT
I stareat the blank page on my laptop screen. The early morning sunlight streams through my office window, painting the armchair I’m sitting on in a soft glow. The sun has moved position in the past thirty minutes, but I can’t say the same for the cursor.
Fuck.The words didn’t come any easier last night, after I dropped Athena and Peony off at the hotel. I had hoped whatever blocked the words would disintegrate by morning, and they would flow better today.
I let out a hard breath, push to my feet, and pace. With all the pacing I do while working on a book, it’s surprising a threadbare path hasn’t been worn into the blue rug.
Birds chirp from the tree outside the window, obviously not dealing with a crisis like I am. Maybe they have a point. I should be outside, dealing with my frustrations another way.
I power off my laptop and go outside and weed the flower bed near the house. I cleared away the winter debris a few weeks ago. That’s more than I can say for the tangled thoughts now suffocating my creative flow.
I should check on Athena and Peony, since Athena doesn’t have a phone. Or I could just phone the hotel and get the call transferred to her room. That would save me from going there. I told her last night theycould order room service or go to the hotel café and charge the food to the room.
Kellan called after I got back and told me Athena doesn’t have a police record and there are no warrants for her arrest. There are also no missing girls matching Peony’s description.
He also confirmed Kenda died just as Athena had told us—which I already knew. I googled the shooting. Police are investigating what happened, so there wasn’t much information, other than the suspected shooters were dead.
Dead. They deserved a lot more than that after leaving a little girl motherless.
And now I’ll have to tell my parents what happened to Kenda—who they had loved—and how her daughter is quite possibly alsomydaughter. I scrub my hand down my face. I’m not looking forward to telling them any of that.
I also need to tell Zara. Soon. I’m not ready to tell her just yet though.
I dig up a few more weeds, but the usually calming activity does little to stop my growing restlessness.Shit.
I need to get out of Maple Ridge for a few hours. To burn away that gnawing edge.
Knowing I won’t get any writing done until I’ve talked to Clarke, I decide to head out of town. But first, I drive to the hotel where Peony and Athena are staying and park the Explorer on the street.
The girl working behind the reception desk has a reputation of being a gossip. Christ knows what rumors she might spread if she spots me, especially if she realizes who I’m here to see.
