He took over in all the meetings—talking over anyone who disagreed with him and insisting that his ideas were “simply the best.” He began ordering my associates around—treating them like crap, and badmouthing them at all our directors’ seminars.
While he was in the middle of saying how he couldn’t believe “how dimwitted and dumb” they were—questioning how any of them had “ever managed to get through college in the first place,” I let him have it.
I told him that he was a f**king idiot and that the only reason we agreed to hire him was because our first choice failed the drug test. (By the way, when did employers start testing for opium? And where the hell do people find opium?!)
“And yeah,” I said, “my associates may be dumb as rocks and they may not know a goddamn thing about marketing, but they’re my associates and nobody can talk bad about them but me!”
People these days,
Claire
Chapter 15
Claire
It’s not real, it’s not real...Breathe, Claire...Breathe...
I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen. I opened a cabinet and grabbed a packet of Tylenol, tossing the pills down my throat.
I flung the refrigerator door open and reached for a bottle of water, downing it in one gulp. I took out another one as soon as I finished.
This happened to me every year—every. single. year. Every time my wedding anniversary rolled around.
I shut my eyes and tried to calm myself down from the nightmare I’d just had—the one that featured my husband running off with my best friend, the one that featured her getting pregnant with his baby. But, once I opened my eyes and looked around, once I saw that my kitchen was not our kitchen, I realized that it wasn’t a nightmare after all.
I sank down to the floor and sighed, trying to make myself think of something else—anything else, but another ugly memory forced itself across my mind...
It was weeks after the hurtful revelation, and Amanda hadn’t called or texted me to say that she was sorry. She hadn’t said a word about her part in the affair to any of our mutual friends.
Nada. Zilch. Nothing.
I walked into our neighborhood grocery store—puffy eyed, drained, and ugly, and spotted her in a wrinkled red sundress. I saw her turning down the very aisle I needed: Specialty ice cream.
I knew she was going to pick out our favorite mint chocolate chip brand and cry just like I’d planned to, but we weren’t going to be crying together this time.
We were going to be crying separately, over the same situation that had broken us in two very different ways.
I followed her down the aisle and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yes? May I—” She dropped the carton to the floor as soon as her swollen eyes met mine.
There was silence as we looked at one another, as we searched for something to say about a situation best friends should never have to go through.
I tried to control my anger, tried to step back and take a slow deep breath, but it didn’t work. I drew my hand back and slapped the shit out of her.
She gasped and reached up to touch her cheek. The fact that I almost felt sorry for her made me want to vomit.
“I deserved that...” she whispered.
“No shit.”
“I am...I am so so sorry, Claire.” Her voice cracked. She uncovered her cheek and I saw the beautiful red imprint of my hand. “I never ever wanted to hurt you...I wanted to call you and say something but...I already know you’ll never forgive me for what’s happened...If I could take everything back, I swear I would. I didn’t realize that—”
“That I was married? That you were the maid of honor at my wedding? That you helped me shop for an anniversary present every year? What exactly didn’t you realize?”
“I didn’t think our feelings were—”
“Real? Genuine? Worth mentioning before I tied the knot? As much as it would’ve hurt me, Amanda—as much as I would’ve cried over it—if you had just said, ‘Hey. I have feelings for Ryan and he has feelings for me too,’ before we got married, hell before we got engaged this would’ve...” I couldn’t hold back my tears. “Do you even realize how f**ked up this all is? This isn’t some goddamn romance book on your shelf, Amanda! This is my f**king life!”
“I really am sorry...I—”
“When the f**k were you going to tell me?” I wanted to slap her again. “Huh? When the baby was born? When he turned two? At one point did you and Ryan think about letting your spouses in on this twisted ass joke?”
“Listen to—”
“Answer the goddamn question!”
She sighed. “We never discussed that...”
“Of course you didn’t...I guess f**king each other all the time was conversation enough.” I moved past her and took two cartons of mint chocolate chip from the fridge.
“Claire, wait...I’ll always hate myself for—”
“That makes two of us. We’ve always shared the same enemies.”