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Bree looks at me and laughs. That light and soft laugh that suits her so well.
“I’m sure you don’t really want to know,” she says.
“Then, I wouldn’t have asked,” I reply with a shrug.
She hesitates for a long minute and then appears to have decided upon something. “I suppose, I’m here to find myself again. And yes, before you come out with a smart remark, I did lose myself.”
I raise my hands in surrender and shake my head. “I swear, I wasn’t going to say a thing.”
She studies my expression before continuing. “I left a lot of crap behind in the city, not the least of which, was a rather narcissistic and controlling boyfriend.”
I nod, but don’t speak. It makes complete sense. It does explain a lot of her behavior ever since I’ve met her. I wonder how long was she with him, and more to the point, what she might have been like before they were together.
“Clearly, I’m a jerk magnet, because my husband before him was not much different.”
My eyes widen at that statement.
“Yeah,” she nods, seeing my surprise. “I was married for five years. The first couple of years were OK. The last three, not so much. You would think, wouldn’t you, that after one disastrous relationship, I’d have learned my lesson. But oh, no. Not me.”
She takes another swig and stares out ahead of her, falling contemplatively silent. I get the feeling that I may have reopened an old wound.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” she says, shaking her head fervently, her pitch far too high for me to believe her. “What about you?”
“I too was married,” I reply, feeling it only right that I give her as good as she has given me. I started this conversation, after all. I suspect there was something lurking beneath that smile. I just couldn’t have known how tough she had had it. If I had, I would’ve avoided asking. Did she too carry a terrible past with her, like I did? Was she here to put it all behind her?
“Things just didn’t work out,” I continue.
I feel guilty that I’m holding back even after she was so honest. It’s not really right, but being back in this town has been tough enough. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to start thinking and talking about all that again.
“What happened?” Bree asked.
Maybe I was going to have to tell her after all. I could give her the gist, couldn’t I? I don’t need to go into details.
“I found her in bed with another guy.”
“My God,” Bree blurts. “What a witch.”
I nearly spit out my beer at her vehemence. And suddenly, I’m laughing. I don’t really know why. Maybe the tension needed to be broken, or maybe I just find Bree’s utter disgust of my cheating wife funny. She starts laughing with me, and we are at it for so long that my cheeks begin to hurt.
When we finally come down, Bree still lets out a few titters, and then she sighs deeply. “Wow. I didn’t know how much I needed that.”
Her words resonate with me and I immediately feel so much lighter, like I’ve just shaken off a great weight.
“Yeah, me too,” I agree.
She looks across the meadow facing her house, and her eyes soften as she takes another sip of her beer. But I’m not interested in the meadow, I’m too busy drinking her in. The same feeling from earlier is back in my stomach, and however much I might have battled it up to this point, I have to admit, the desire I feel for her is growing.
Maybe because you’re letting yourself get to know her.
That was probably it.
After another short pause, Bree looks back at me. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Uh-oh,” I say, but with a smirk. In truth though, I’m already feeling a little defensive. If she wants to know more about my divorce, I’m going to have to make my excuses.
“Go on,” I encourage, pretending that I am as open as a book.
