“Your heart?” Adam nearly screamed on the other end. “Are you a child? Because no one marries for love, Chloe. Not people who have any fucking brains at all. You and I both know that love isn’t real. Love is bullshit poor people tell each other when they settle for someone who can’t get them higher than their station.”
“Love is real, Adam,” Chloe said calmly. “Love is absolutely real, and I am in love with my husband. So, kindly, go to hell.”
She hung up the phone and plopped down on the stoop. I sat down beside her in silence, and we drank water for a moment while she calmed down. When she seemed like she had a little bit of a grip on herself, I started talking. Something told me that there was a lot more truth to her love argument than she was going to let on to me, but I didn’t know how I felt about it.
“So, I take it that was your ex,” I said.
“Not really,” she said. “I never dated him. We went out to dinner one time, but that’s it. Other than that, we just happened to be in the same social circles a lot. I knew him, but I wasn’t seeing him. That said, he’s who my parents picked out for me to marry since his dad has a business relationship with my dad.”
“Really? That was why they pushed you together?”
“Not pushed together—forced together. I left because they told me I was marrying him. No way out, no excuses, no objections. I was going to marry Adam, and that was that. So, I left,” she said. “I hate him. He’s cruel and vain and stupid. I left him on speaker because I thought you should hear what I dealt with before I came to Portland.”
“He sounds like a real champ,” I said, taking a sip of my water.
“Yeah, he’s a real winner alright,” she said. “My parents got my number somehow. They must have given it to him, and he called me. Believe it or not, that was him trying to make a persuasive argument.”
“With the insults?”
“He’s a child in a grown man’s body. He’s never had someone take something from him until his ex-wife left him. Now he’s worse than he was before. I’ll block him, but who knows if he’ll figure out another way to track and contact me. I hate that. He’s such an ass.”
“Well, he won’t get to you as long as I’m around,” I said. She looked at me with what looked like a tear in her eye and nodded.
“Yeah. There’s that.” I watched as she opened up the number that just called and hit the block button. When it was done, she finished off her water and stood. “Guess we should get back inside. Otherwise, they’ll think we’re having a lot more fun out here than we are.”
I smiled, but there was little humor in it. The truth was, I wanted to be having that fun. I wanted to call that asshole Adam and tell him exactly how fucked he could get if he didn’t leave her alone.
I followed Chloe inside, and she went to the floor while I ducked into the kitchen. I grabbed my apron and put it on, letting new words rattle around in my mind. Now they were ones I made up myself but were based on ones she said.
Did she love me?
I wondered about that the entire rest of the shift, and every time I got to the window, I would look for her. She never looked back for me.
24
Chloe
A few days after that first night back at the bar, I had a day off. Hannah called and asked if I wanted to hang out and have a girls’ day with her. It had been a long time since we had just spent time together, and I eagerly accepted the invitation. Partly because I wanted to spend time with my cousin, but also because I needed to get my mind off everything. It was harder than I expected to pretend with Matt. Especially when we were together as often as we were.
We were together at home. We were together at the bar. I had always enjoyed being with him, but now it filled my mind with all kinds of thoughts I shouldn’t be having. Maybe going out with Hannah for a while would snap me back into reality.
She picked me up, and we first went to lunch. Since she had been in Portland longer than me, she had a better idea of all the cute restaurants and had chosen one that reminded me a lot of the bistros we ate at in New York when I had gone to visit her there, just without the pretension.
We sat down and thanked the waiter for the glasses of iced water he immediately put in front of us. He handed each of us the day’s menu and said he would be back in a few minutes. I scanned over the options, my mind going to the mushroom pasta Matt had chosen for me. It felt significant, meaningful. But at the same time, maybe I was just being too emotional about it. After all, it was pasta with garlic and mushrooms bathed in luscious cream and topped with shaved cheese. There wasn’t a whole lot not to like about that. Maybe I was just putting too much emphasis on him making that choice for me.