Incompatibly Yours: Charity Anthology Supporting Fertility Research

"What?"

Leaning in, she places her palms on the table and says, "You picked the wrong brother." When I move back in my seat to protest, she shakes her head. "I'm telling you, you're wrong. It's not too late."

"Kate—" I try to stop her from continuing.

But she presses forward, this time louder. "It's not! It's not too late. In high school, did you not tell me he was the greatest man you've ever known?"

She's right, I said that. But I also once said Beverly Hills 90210 reruns were a healthy way to release stress after a long day at school. Not exactly sage advice given by my fourteen-year-old self.

"Where's Myles right now?" she queries with both a lot of anger and suspicion. "Tonight, Ryleigh," she demands. "Where's Myles?"

"With Colby and Devon in town."

Earlier in the evening I convinced Kate to take a road trip with me so we could talk, or I could talk and she could listen. Said road trip led us only one town over, population less than our own. When Kate heard the way the conversation was going, she insisted I stop the car immediately. She was near giddy in reaction and wanted to be somewhere she could examine every facet of what I was telling her, rather than have me looking to the road ahead.

My friend is clever like that.

Prompting me to speak, she asks again, "Where specifically is he tonight?"

"What? Why? What's that matter?"

"Answer me, please," she demands, and her tone is not only out of character, but hauntingly scary.

"I…."

"God, I love you. You know this, right?"

"Yes," I clip. "What's wrong with you?"

Standing up, throwing cash on the table, Kate moves to me and grabs my arm. My bottle of beer is still half-full so I'm confused as to what she thinks she's doing.

Once I'm standing, she moves around me and prods my back in the direction of the door. When I turn to grab her to keep her from shoving me forward, I inadvertently get a glance over her shoulder.

What I see boils my blood.

Infiltrates my every pore.

And finally threatens to shred my already threadbare existence.

Myles, my fiancé and supposed love of my life, is sitting at a table in the corner of a sleazy bar. A bleached-blonde woman is sitting on his lap. She's wearing a skirt, straddling him, nuzzling his neck and giggling loudly enough that the sound stings my ears, while his hands grip her ass with what looks to be fierce desperation.

Kate's voice in my ear breaks my concentration. "Honey, let's go."

My eyes, blurry and drowning in the ache of what's in front of me, roll to hers. Her expression is kind and understanding.

"Let's go," she mumbles. "Now."

"Where?" I whisper.

Where do you go after seeing what you can never un-see?

Where's there a place on earth to hide your devastation from the cruel and cold outside world?

Where does a person feel safe in the presence of another again?

Chase.

It's a bad idea. Even thinking through the repercussions of it, I know it is.

"Take me home," I murmur with a slight aim for hope, but loud enough she can hear my request and not deny it.

"I didn't want you to see that. I tried…."

"Take me home," I tell her again, swaying as I reach down to grab my phone and purse.

"Okay, Ry. Let's go."

★★★

"Are you sure about this?" she questions carefully as we sit outside Chase's house, both staring up at his front door.

His red truck sits beside her Camry, mocking me and reminding me that it wasn't only Myles who was unfaithful. "I need to talk to him, Kate. If for no other reason than…."

"How will you handle all of this with Myles?"

Although I'd love to explain, I just don't have that answer. I know Myles almost as well as I know myself, or at least I thought I did. I now understand the disconnection in our relationship is affecting him as much as it is me. It has to be. I'm not making excuses, but I'm not about to throw everything away based on a woman sitting on his lap. Nor a single moment that shouldn't have ever transpired between me and Chase.

"I'll figure it out tomorrow." I dismiss her question, eager to get away from her.

Hearing the locks of her car click open, I jump before turning to face her. She watches me carefully before offering, "You want me to wait out here? Ya know, in case he's not home or things aren't…."

"No," I reply quickly, grabbing the handle and opening the door. The inside light of the car casts a sure glimpse of my friend and it's not disappointment, sadness, or worry playing in her eyes. "You're reading into something that's not there, Kate."

Smiling shortly, she reaches over and grabs my hand clutching my purse. "I'm not. I swear. But I'll be honest with you."

"As you always are," I return with an eye roll.

Nodding once, she says, "You just saw a woman taking advantage of your man and you're not swelling up in tears or looking for a rock to hide under."

"I haven't had time to process."

"You have. Which is why I trust you know what you're doing."

A.C. Bextor, Teresa Gabelman, S.R. Grey, Nina Levine's books