The table goes quiet.
I pocket my phone slowly. “A while.”
“A while. That’s specific.” He takes another drink. “You know, it’s funny. Jules and I were together for three years and she never looked at me the way she looks at you.”
“Garrett—” Owen starts.
“No, it’s fine. I’m just making an observation.” He’s looking right at me now. “She was always so serious with me. So focused on her skating, her plans. But with you? She’s different.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m not you,” I say.
Someone makes a sound that might be a laugh.
Garrett’s face hardens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means maybe she’s different because she’s with someone who actually appreciates her.”
“I appreciated her.”
“Did you? Because you cheated on her and got engaged to someone else right after breaking up. That doesn’t sound like appreciation.”
“You don’t know anything about our relationship.”
“I know enough.”
“You know what she tells you. Her version. The one where she’s perfect and I’m the villain.” He’s getting louder. “But you weren’t there. You didn’t see how she was. Always putting skating first, always too tired, always stressed. Do you know how hard it is to be with someone who cares more about ice than they do about you?”
My hands curl into fists. “That’s not?—”
“It’s true. And you’re going to figure it out soon enough. Once the novelty wears off and you realize she’s never goingto put you first.”
“Stop while you’re ahead, man.”
“What?”
“I said shut the fuck up.” I stand and my chair scrapes back. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.”
“I’m telling you the truth.” He stands too, swaying slightly. “She’s cold. She’s?—”
“She’s perfect.” The words come out hard. “She’s perfect exactly as she is. And if you were too fucking stupid to see that, that’s your problem.”
Garrett laughs. “Oh, she’s really done a number on you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Because she’s going to break your heart. That’s what she does. She lets you think you’re special and then one day you realize you’re just in the way.”
I can feel my phone vibrating in my pocket but I ignore it.
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I? How long have you been together? A month? Two?” He’s grinning now, drunk and mean. “It’s been like three weeks, hasn’t it? You flew across the country for her. You caught feelings. And now you’re standing here defending her like you actually know her.”
People at the main bar are looking over now.
“I do know her.”
“You know what she shows you. The version she performs.” He takes a step closer. “But you haven’t seen the real her yet.”
