He winces. “I’m sorry, Iris. I tried—”
I nod, swallowing. “I know you did.” Because this was probably an option all along. Just like I would have stayed in Louisiana with Beau if he would have only let me. I squeeze his arm. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
He’s quick to nod. “You will. I’ve got a stack of resumes for you to look at for someone new,” he says, brightening. “Some of them are really great. I already know who I’d pick if it were up to me.”
I’m still too busy processing the fact that Ramon is leaving to really focus on the idea of hiring someone else. “Sure... okay,” I mutter.
“And I feel bad leaving before you settle into your new place, but the gym in Edmond is the shit.”
I listed my condo and found a buyer almost immediately. And then I put an offer on the most precious Tudor-style cottage in West Toluca Lake. I close on it next week. It’s something I’m looking forward to. So are my plans to furnish and decorate. Having something to look forward to everyday helps too.
“And they want me to start before the end of the month, so…”
I stare at Ramon for a minute, and it strikes me that he’s waiting for me to say something, but the connection from my brain to my mouth seems to be suffering from gridlock. Finally, the words come to me.
“I’m happy for you, Ramon.” As I say the words, I realize they’re absolutely true. I smile at him. “I’m so happy for you and Sally.”
He smiles, and I see beneath his relief is a real glow of joy. “Thanks. Thanks for everything.” He shakes his head in amused disbelief. “If you would have told me a year ago I’d be moving to Oklahoma to chase after a girl, I’d have laughed in your face.”
I laugh now because it’s so true.
And if you would have told me a year ago that a French teacher from Lafayette, Louisiana would break my heart, I would have…
I would have…
I would have hopped on a plane and flown straight there. Because I’d never had anyone close enough to my heart to break it. And Beau was so worth it.
My eyes brim with tears, and I’m ashamed to admit that they aren't tears of joy for my two best friends, so I try to dash them away.
“Oh, Iris,” Ramon purrs. “Come here.” He hugs me over the center console, and I sob against his chest. Yet again.
* * *
Two weeks later,Laird, my new PA/personal trainer/nutritionist/bodyguard, Mica, and I drop Ramon off at LAX.
Yes, his name is Laird.
Yes, he’s Scottish, as in from outside Inverness.
Yes, he’s as hot as a Scottish personal trainer could be.
And, yes, he’s totally gay.
I adore him already. But after we watch Ramon move through the airport’s glass doors with a backward glance, a wide smile, and a loving wave, I don’t dissolve in tears against this chest. I mean, it might make me feel better, but I barely know him.
Instead, when I sniffle and blubber, he hands me a tissue and reaches into the cooler next to Mica in the backseat—the one he insists on keeping stocked with healthy snacks and drinks—and offers me a bottle of water.
“Th-th-thank you,” I squeak.
“Naw worrth mentionin’, Irris,” Laird says in his lovely Scottish accent, and I swear, listening to it is almost enough to cheer me up and make me forget about how much my life has changed.
I mean, yeah, by almost every measure, it’s a better life. I’m free. Sure, Moira is suing me for wrongful termination and breach of contract, but Ela, my attorney, says she has no case and that if she keeps at it, I can counter-sue her for harassment. I mostly try to let Ela handle that. I’d rather not think about it if I don’t have to. And since I took Ela’s advice and got a restraining order, Moira hasn’t tried anything else. But I’m not letting my guard down. I know my mother. She’s not going to fade quietly into the shadows. The woman has staying power. Sometimes, I can still hear her voice in my head, but I’m working on telling that voice to go get a Brazillian wax.
Because I have a job that I enjoy and a home that actually feels like a home. And I get to eat real food, and no one tells me my stomach looks like I’m trying to hide an unplanned pregnancy.
But even with all that, I move through every day with this ache in my chest. And I’ll catch myself wondering where Beau is and what he’s doing at least thirty times a day.
Every night, when I go to bed around ten-thirty, I know it’s after midnight in Beau’s time zone, and he’s probably been asleep for hours. But I wonder. Is he in his tiny house? It should be all fixed by now. Is he there? Or has he moved on and found someone else’s bed to share?
