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I shook my head erratically, fighting for words, but nothing came out as my entire being fell in on itself. I felt like I was in the worst comedy ever made with the most cringe-worthy script ever written.
Duke said, “I’ve never seen this woman before in my life.”
I finally found my voice and backed up toward the steps once more. “No, no, no. I’m so sorry. I have the wrong house.” The words sent a flutter of relief through me. I had the wrong house. Ryan wasn’t a cheater. “I was looking for someone else. His name’s Ryan. I just—”
“You’re looking forwho?” The woman seemed ten times more interested now, and with that, Duke threw his hands up and turned tail back inside. My gut clenched, and I took a step toward her and away from the steps. Just in case.
“Ryan,” I said, my voice small and seemingly insignificant now.
But then it got worse. She laughed. Not even a small laugh. A deep, guttural laugh that echoed down the street and probably woke up the neighbors.
“I’m sorry,” I said simply, not wishing to endure any more humiliation as I turned back toward the steps and made my way down.
The woman finished laughing and cleared her throat, but I didn’t look back.
“Are you sleeping with him?” she asked, stopping me short.
I turned just long enough to answer. “I’m not. I mean, I did. Once. I didn’t know he was married or whatever, I swear, but he ended up with my phone, and I’ve been through hell trying to get it back.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t care that he slept with you. He can sleep with whoever he wants. We’re divorced.”
Divorced. The word sent conflicting feelings through me, but again, at least he wasn’t a cheater. Divorced men could have one-night stands. And she didn’t seem to be upset by it. Still, I hadn’t expected nor thought about this situation happening, so I didn’t want to continue riding it out. I had stepped over so many lines that I didn’t care if I never got my phone back again.
“Hey,” the woman said again, her voice closer. “Come on. Sit with me. I’m sure I just made you feel like crap, so I’m sorry.”
I trudged back up the steps and across the front porch to a seat perpendicular to the one the woman sat on and sat, unable to meet her gaze.
“My name’s Darlene. Christie, I’m really sorry. So, Ryan has your phone?”
I nodded. Why was this happening to me? “We met at an airport.”
She nodded absently for a moment. “Houston? Or Waco? I can’t remember where he goes these days.”
“Houston,” I said. “I was coming to Dallas, and I guess he was returning. We met at the bar...” I sighed. “We hit it off, spent a night together because of a canceled flight, then he left the next morning. He took my phone instead of his.”
Darlene giggled again, this time more subdued. I was thankful. “Sounds like Ryan. Always in a hurry and somehow always late too.” She shook her head. “He can’t manage his schedule to save his life. I guess that explains why he didn’t call before showing up here today.”
A ghost of a smile came and went. Boy was she accurate. Of course, she knew him better than I ever would.
She leaned back, her arms extending as she clutched her knees and looked at me through her lashes. “What a player. You know, he was never like that when we first dated.” She scoffed and leaned forward, her hand cupping her chin as her elbow rested on a knee. “It sucks. I wish I could say he wasn’t a lot of things when we first dated, but he’s always been... Ryan.”
I looked out at the yard, staring at where the soft glow from the porch light dimmed on the mowed grass. I’d thought this was his house, and I guessed it used to be. So where did he live now? “I guess that explains why he still hasn’t given me my phone.”
“Oh my gosh, yes. Seriously, he sucks at prioritizing … You have to tell me. What happened? How does he have your phone exactly? I mean, you’re here in the middle of the night, so it has to be a good story, right?”
She was awake and alive, a far cry from what she was when I first knocked on her door. I didn’t like talking about my personal life, especially with people I didn’t know and mostdefinitelywith someone’s ex, but she seemed genuinely nice, as if we were old friends hanging out late at night. So, I found myself telling her the story about the bar, the hotel, and everything after that. She seemed like a woman who got lost in the idea of the Ryan she had when they first met and started dating. It was funny, too, because in my few moments with him, I got lost in the same idea.
“Why’d you divorce?” My skin felt cold as the words tumbled from my lips. That wasn’t my business. I hated getting into other people’s business, and I’d just asked the most intrusive of questions.
“When it really mattered, he wasn’t the man I needed him to be.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “He never changed. He was the man I fell in love with. Always. But, I guess, I was changing, and I wanted him to change too. I needed him to grow up. Not everyone does.”
It almost sounded like she still had feelings for him.
Chapter 10
