What?! “Why?”
“Because you were her best friend...Her only friend...”
“We had other mutual friends. Why doesn’t she want to talk to them?”
“Is your head really stuck that far up your ass now?”
I stood up to leave again, but he grabbed my arm and cleared his throat. “Please, Claire. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that...” He looked as if he wanted me to sit back down, but I remained standing. “All of the mutual friends were on your side.”
“Really? I wonder why...”
“I’m not asking for you and her to watch chick flicks together and cry, and I’m not asking for you to be BFFs again. I’m just asking on behalf of my wife—”
“Your wife? I still can’t believe you can say that without a shred of guilt crossing over your face. It’s disgusting.”
“I’m just asking for you to see her. Maybe even grab some lunch together next week? It’s one of her dying wishes and I’m doing my best to fulfill all of them.”
“What?! Are you out of your f**king mind?” I scoffed and left him sitting at the table. I couldn’t believe his nerve—to act as if I owed him or Amanda a damn thing, to have the audacity to even ask me to do anything for their benefit.
I stepped outside of the shop and opened my umbrella, walking over to my car in the pouring rain. As I unlocked the door, I felt strong hands on my shoulders—someone spinning me around.
“Spare me this stupid ass act and stop being so f**king childish, Claire.” Ryan stood underneath my umbrella and gripped my arms.
“Excuse me?” My eyes widened. He wasn’t behaving anything like the Ryan I knew years ago—that Ryan would never grab me like this.
“Ryan...I—”
“You owe me twenty seconds.” He hissed. “Twenty f**king seconds and I’m going to use every last one of them. You honestly think marrying a billionaire means you don’t have to care about anything? You think it makes you a better person now? It doesn’t.”
“I guess being a lying philanderer does though, huh? Get the f**k off of me.” I raised my knee up, fully intending to kick him in his balls, but he grabbed my leg and moved it around his waist, holding it stiffly.
“Seriously, Claire? Were you trying to do what I think you were trying to do?”
“Save the human race from more bastard offspring?”
“When did you become such a bitch?” His eyes darkened. “Are you still that bitter about what happened between us? Five years ago? You clearly came out alright.” He glanced at my engagement ring.
“Get your hands off of me, Ryan.”
He didn’t move back. Instead he tightened his grip on my arm and leg and spoke slowly. “Listen to me, Claire.”
I considered spitting in his face, but for some reason I couldn’t muster enough saliva in my mouth.
“Amanda and I moved here so we could commute back and forth to St. Francis.”
The hospital?
He nodded as if he’d heard my thought. “She’s been working at that catering shop part time to keep her mind off of her upcoming treatment...” He sighed. “She has another brain tumor—a malignant one. We came here to get a second opinion and to try a new procedure because none of the doctors at home will touch it...” His voice cracked. “She just...She just wants to see you again, just in case—just...You never gave her a chance to say all she had to say.”
“She was f**king you behind my back! There was nothing left to say!” I tried to wriggle free again, but his grip was too tight. “Look. I honestly don’t wish her any ill-will, and as a human being I do hope whatever treatment she’s here for goes well. However, personally, you two don’t exist in my world anymore and her sickness has nothing to do with me. So, if you could please let me go and get back to whatever life you’ve built with Amanda that would be great. I’ve given you more than twenty seconds and I’m not giving you anymore.”
“She was your best f**king friend.”
“Was—just like I was your wife. Funny how one three-lettered word says so much, huh?”
His face turned red and it looked like he was about to really lose it, but he leaned in closer so that we were nose to nose— lip to lip. “Stop pretending like you don’t care, Claire. You do. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Are you sick too? Please tell me St Francis has you scheduled for a few nights in their psych ward—I’ve heard they give out Jell-O now. Is cherry still your favorite?”
“All you have to do is talk to her for five minutes. It won’t kill you.”
“Yes, it will. Now, please—”
I heard the shattering of glass to my right—heard it echoing through the wind and cutting through the sound of pelting raindrops.