“I’m sorry.” I shoved the plate of crab away and sat back into my chair. “I sound like a bitter, scorned woman, but that’s not really how I feel, nor do I not want you and Charlotte to live happily never after. It’s just that this damn place and these damn people bring out the worst in me. I’m happy for you two, and I wish you both the very best. Truly.” I scooted my chair away from the table and stood. Enough fresh air for one night. The stuffy, air-conditioned kind inside the restaurant seemed like a better option than carrying on this awkward conversation with Ford. “Just ignore the bitter girl in the giant peach frock.”
I backed away from the table in the direction of the door. Right after saying I was sorry, something started to lighten up inside me. Almost like I was being pumped up with oxygen and about to float away. I’m sorry . . . two words that were more therapeutic than I could have guessed. Maybe I should give them another go with someone else I’d offended tonight, just to see what happened.
“You forgot your crab legs.” Ford smiled as he swept his arm across the table. “And your drink.”
“All yours,” I replied as I pulled open the door. “Thanks again for the talk, Ford. It was . . . nice.”
His smile stayed in place. “It was . . . nice. Let’s do it again sometime soon, okay?”
When he lifted his brows, his smile shifting so it wasn’t so straight, I shot him a wave and disappeared inside. Too much was going on tonight for me to commit any time to deciphering Ford’s looks and the meanings behind those looks.
I’d barely made it a few steps inside before Charlotte shot toward me out of thin air, looking as flustered as she ever got. “Have you seen Ford? I can’t find him anywhere.” Even her voice gave away that she was stressed. Every other second, her head twisted from side to side, scanning the restaurant for him.
“Yeah, he’s right outside.” I threw my thumb over my shoulder.
Her eyes cut to the door. “Where did you just come from?”
I threw my thumb over my shoulder again. “Outside,” I said slowly, because she seemed like she was having a tough time processing things. “That’s why I know where he is.”
Charlotte’s eyes darted to mine. “You two were out there together?” she half-shrieked. “Alone? For how long? Why? What were you doing?”
At first I didn’t understand why she seemed so frantic her head was about to spin, but it didn’t take me long to understand why she was looking between Ford and me like we’d just been up to no good behind her back.
Charlotte might have been the one who’d cheated with him, but now she was committing her life to a man who was a known cheater. She’d probably spend their entire marriage wondering if that glint in his eyes was sparked by some other woman. She’d spend the rest of their relationship wondering if he’d do the same to her as he’d done to me.
For the first time in a long time, I pitied my sister. She might have been shallow and scornful and had only maybe one or two kind bones in her body, but she didn’t deserve to live in that kind of doubt. I couldn’t imagine what that would feel like.
“Charlotte, it’s okay.” I patted her arm a few times and tipped my head at Ford. “He’s all yours. I promise.”
She watched me for a minute, looking into my eyes like she was searching for the smallest fragment of a lie. When she seemed appeased, she let out a breath and moved around me. “Thanks for letting me know, Clara Belle.” Her voice was stiff, and I knew from her inability to look at me that her words held more than one meaning. “And I’m sorry about the dress. You know . . . for the zipper breaking and everything.”
She was still unable to look at me, and when she bit her lip, I knew there was also more to her apology for the dress than just for the zipper breaking.
Were Charlotte and I hinting around burying the hatchet? Was that even possible?
Before I could clarify it or consider it further, she rushed through the door toward her fiancé, who looked like he’d taken it upon himself to not let the drink he’d brought me go to waste.
As I moved through the restaurant, I didn’t get nearly as many stares and points as before. People had either gotten used to The Thing or were too tipsy to notice or care. From the way couples were swaying and shouting on the dance floor, I guessed their nonchalance might have had more to do with the latter.
I didn’t have to search the room too long for Boone. He was easy to find. Easy because he was the only person in the whole place who was sitting alone. Even the few tables around his had been vacated, like he was carrying the bubonic plague or something. Seeing him shunned all over again by the same people who’d done it to him years ago made something in my chest tighten. I knew for a fact, several instances aside, that he was the best person in the place.
From across the room, I noticed my mom and dad wave at me, motioning me over. I wasn’t sure if they wanted to introduce me to some new acquaintances or some old ones, or just keep me away from Boone liked they’d tried to do for years, but I continued toward Boone. Nothing seemed more important at that moment than apologizing to him.
His back was to me, and he looked totally preoccupied with eating his dinner, but when I got within a few yards of him, his whole back stiffened. He had the same sixth sense with me as I had with him. He twisted in his seat slowly as I finished approaching him. He looked tired again, exhausted like when I’d first seen him last night in the bar.