"I’d had a lot to drink and was chatting with a guy. He asked if I wanted to go back to his bungalow. Apparently, Robbie was at the bar and watching us talk. He came over and intervened. Then, we…walked me back to the room. That's all there is to tell." I could feel the heat creeping up my cheeks and cursed my terrible poker face.
Ashlynn narrowed her eyes at me and gave me the death stare. "Do I look like an idiot to you? He looked like he'd just been cold-cocked with a baseball bat and your eyes are all puffy. You both look wrecked, so obviously that's not all that happened."
I set down my fork and shoved the plate away, my flopping stomach putting a moratorium on any more food. With a groan, I flopped back against the couch cushion and yanked a throw blanket over me to hide my face. "I said…stuff. Sooo much stuff, Ash."
It was quiet for a few seconds and then gentle hands were tugging the blanket away from my face. She lowered herself onto the couch next to me and patted my shoulder, before nabbing a piece of my toast.
"Okay, so give it to me straight. How bad was it?"
I shook my head in disbelief and threw up a hand in defeat. "Bad," I admitted, my face burning at the memory. So much for the best revenge and living well. Whenever I'd imagined the two of us seeing each other again--and I did, often--it was always me with a big fat wedding ring on my finger, and once I'd landed my own medical practice. I'd smile at him fondly and thank him for dumping me because I managed to find my true soul mate, Detrick (or sometimes Todd, or Eric…or Michael, depending on the day). Robbie would be overweight, with a beer belly hanging over his belt and a receding hairline. He'd shake his head in sad regret that he hadn't locked this up when he had the chance and I'd walk away feeling renewed.
Rejuvenated.
Reborn.
Instead, none of that had happened, and seeing him had made me feel exactly like Ash had said I looked.
Wrecked.
"It was like, when I saw him, something in my brain tripped. I tried to hold it in and I almost made it all the way to the room without blowing up. Until he Scout's Honored me."
She gasped and her eyes went wide. "No, he didn't."
That's what I loved about Ash. I didn’t have to explain what that meant or why it broke me. She got it.
"He did. And I don't know what happened. I lost my mind. I started crying."
She polished off the last of my toast and eyed my plate. "You going to eat any more?"
"Nope, it's all yours."
She tucked into the eggs as she peppered me with more questions. "So did he apologize for interrupting you? Or for cheating? Or for dumping you?"
"Yeah, but what else do you say when someone is basically sobbing at you drunkenly, you know? He probably couldn't wait to get out of here. And then I asked him to stay."
She seemed like she was about to respond and then stopped herself, shoveling in a forkful of home fries.
"What?" I demanded, sitting up a little straighter and trying to read her guilty looking face. "What is it?"
She chewed for way longer than she had to and then swallowed before meeting my gaze. "Just...I don't know. He looked really...sad, is all. Don't get me wrong. He's still a dick," she rushed to add. "I think he probably does feel bad for hurting you, though. That's not to say that you should care one way or another. He deserves it. He made his choices and now he has to live with them. I guess I just thought all these years that while you were struggling so much with the reality of the break up that he'd been just fine. I'm going to say after seeing him last night, that's not true."
I let the words marinate for a while, taking it all in. "That doesn't make any sense. If he still cared about me then why did he break up with me in the first place? Granted, I probably would’ve dumped him once I found out about what’s her face…but if he hadn’t told me? I’d probably still be clueless. If he wanted to stay together, why tell me at all?"
I recalled the day it had happened and the memory of his face was etched in my mind. It had been like he was made from marble. Ice cold, calculating. So matter of fact. Even as I begged him to explain himself, tell me why he’d cheated and where we’d gone wrong, his face had been impassive. The face of a stranger.
"No, I'm pretty sure you have it wrong, Ash. If he looked rough when you saw him it was only because he was either still jet-lagged or irritated about having to carry me back to the hotel."
"He carried you?" she demanded, tossing my fork onto the empty plate with a clatter. "When were you going to mention that part?"
"Uh, yeah, well…" I muttered miserably.
"Look, I don’t care what you said. After the way he left things back then, you had the right to vent a little or whatever. And people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk. It happened, let’s move along. I told him to stay out of your way. If he sees us, to back it up and go somewhere else. If you need looking after, I'll be the one to do it."
I nodded, forcing a smile as I drained the rest of the soda from my glass. She was right. Surely we could avoid running into Robbie for the rest of the trip. I’d be busy soaking up the sun and enjoying the casino and he’d be busy prepping for the fight.
The fight that he had invited me to.