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Intel told me he’s married to some chick named Julianna, and low-level whispers are floating around about how Cindy is still attached to this Ryder guy.
Guess I finally have proof that’s true.
Especially the unrequited part.
The nightmare traffic doesn’t help me reach her before she’s popping a handful of pills and chewing them like they’re candy.
Fuck.
I can’t tell how many she took either—that’s not good. I don’t even think you’re supposed to take a handful ofanything,never mind whatever hardcore stuff Isabelle had in those medicine bottles.
Amid my concern over what she swallowed, a woman storms out of the diner. She’s bristling as she shouts, “Cindy, please tell me my eyes were lying to me. Did you just try to kiss Ryder?”
It’s the woman from the diner. Joy, I think her name is. I always sit in Isabelle’s section when I eat at the diner, but I picked up the names from the staff when I could.
Isabelle lifts a hand to cover her eyes. “Not now, Joy,” she snaps, trying to walk away from her.
“What are you doing?” Joy demands.
“That was a mistake—I didn’t mean to do anything,” she fires right back, displaying a temper she didn't blast Ryder with.
Interesting.
Finally, I cross the first two lanes and make my way to the center median. Joy’s shouting loud enough for me to hear, but I have to read Isabelle’s lips to make out her part of the conversation.
“You never do, Cindy. Seriously, this is crazy even for you. I thought you were doing better but after this…” She blows out a breath. “Look, we can discuss this later. We need to get back in there.” She moves toward the door, only to have Isabelle call out:
“I can’t go back in there.”
Slowly, Joy returns to a flustered Isabelle’s side, but there's rage etched into her expression. “I’ve been covering your ass for months and this is how you repay me? Never mind Charlie?”
“I-I’m sorry but look at me!”
Isabelle’s apology is making no headway with Joy. Even as a part of me is grateful that Joy came barreling out after Isabelle took those pills, as it could have stopped her from downing more, I have to wonder… Didn't Joy see what I did?
“Sorry? You think that's enough when you have tables waiting for you?” Joy snarls. “Where’s your loyalty, Cindy? Maybe that’s why Ryder never—” Joy blanches, her face turning deep red as her words come screeching to a halt. Almost immediately, she rasps, “I didn’t mean that.”
They were just words, but Isabelle takes each one like they’re a bullet to the chest.
If she looked devastated after Ryder walked away, now it seems as if she’s a few minutes away from tossing herself into oncoming traffic.
“No. You meant it. You might as well finish that sentence, Joy. Maybe that’s why Ryder never loved me? Because I’m, what, crazy? Irresponsible? A slut? You tell me which one—” Isabelle swallows then closes her eyes. “Look, I can’t do this anymore. I have to get out of here.”
On wobbly feet, she pushes off a large cement planter and walks toward her car.
At first, tension lights me up because it seems as if she’s going nearer to the road. But then, when I realize she’s going to drive under the influence, fury swells inside me.
She’ll get herself and/or some innocent person killed, for Christ’s sake.
“I swear to God, Cindy, if you fuck me over like this, we’re done. Get in there and finish your shift,” Joy calls out, her hands fisted as if she’s stopping herself from dragging Isabelle back inside.
Isabelle only sticks her hand up, raises it over her head, and flips Joy the bird.
“Fuck you, Cindy. This is the last time you screw me over.” Joy stalks off, arms flaring wide as if she’s washing her hands of Isabelle before retreating to the diner.
I don’t think she even realizes that though her friend was in the wrong for trying to kiss a guy who is taken, she kicked Isabelle while she was down.
The door to the diner slams shut, and it’s loud enough that Isabelle hears it and freezes in place. She runs a shaky hand over her face. Her fingers retreat to waist height and she looks at them like they don’t belong to her.
