“What?” She halts and turns to me.
“Fuck,” I whisper, my lips stiff. “It’s Carson.”
And the worst thing is, he’s with a woman.
A beautiful woman, blonde—like me, only her hair is long and wavy—taller than me, nearly Carson’s height in the stilettoheels she’s wearing, and dressed in wide-legged ivory pants cinched at her tiny waist and a black halterneck top. As she lifts a glass to her mouth, chunky bracelets on her wrist sparkle in the light. She smiles at Carson and says something that makes him laugh.
I’m going to vomit.
Who is she?
My stomach goes so tight, it hurts. Thoughts roll through my head like a TikTok video at 10X speed. What should I do? Should I run? Get out of here before Carson sees me? Go over and casually say hi? Pretend I don’t see him?
Why am I freaking out? It’s not like I haven’t seen him since we separated. He came to fix the garage door when it broke, and to pick up more of his things, and to help me move the big outdoor pots and… Well, I know why I’m freaking out. It’s because he’s with a woman.
Is he dating her? Is she his new girlfriend?
More nausea rolls in my stomach.
I should go over there and say hi.
And then probably puke on his shoes.
I need to stop staring at him. I blink a few times and toss back the rest of my prosecco. “I need another drink,” I mutter to Rachel.
She takes my arm and leads me to the bar. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not okay.” I swallow. “But… I don’t get it. I know our marriage is over. We’ve been separated for nearly a year.”
“It’s hard to see your ex with someone else for the first time. I remember after I broke up with Jacob, I ran into him and he was with another woman, and I wanted to punch her.”
“Yeah.” I pull in a breath and, with shaking hands, accept a glass of prosecco from the bartender. “That’s it. Should we leave?”
“No. You can do this. Easy there.”
I’ve gulped down half my prosecco. “I look like a clusterfrump compared to her. She looks exactly like a hockey wife should look. Long, blonde hair, glamorous.” I look down at my flat boots and loose sweater.
“You are gorgeous. Come on. I still want to talk to Xander.”
“Yes. Yes.” Unfortunately, he’s still standing not far from Carson. I keep my gaze determinedly focused on Xander as we walk up to him.
Rachel boldly approaches him. “Hi, Xander. Congratulations on the show. It looks like your work is very popular!”
He turns to her, smiling, drops his gaze down, then up, and his smirk broadens. “Hi… Ruth?”
“Rachel,” she corrects. “We met at the Foundation for the Arts fundraiser.”
“Right, right. I remember.” His gaze shifts to me and he does a similar inspection. Eeeew.
“This is my friend, Ayla,” Rachel says. “Actually my cousin, but also my best friend.”
Xander extends a hand and I shake it. He holds on a little too long. “Nice to meet you. Beauty must run in your family.”
Rachel giggles and I want to slap her.Come on! This guy is sleazy.
“Are you enjoying the show?” he asks.
“Yes!” Rachel nods. “We haven’t even seen everything yet, but I was really fascinated by the window series. Such a powerful symbol of isolation.”
