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My total shock and aggravation of the situation quickly morphs into laughter. Honestly, there’s no other reaction to have in this moment. Sure, I could punch him in the face, but I have more decorum than that. Instead, I place my hand on my hip, throw my hair back, and lift my shoulder playfully.
“Old friend? More like former lovers! Patrick and I were together for two years before he put a ring on my finger. Yours is much nicer though. Probably why our marriage never started. As they say, the bigger the rock, the longer the marriage.”
“Jeez,” Patrick says to himself, and Victoria releases my hand.
“Oh. You’re that Tara.” She has the nerve to look uncomfortable. “I’m sorry—”
“No need to be sorry at all.” I wave off the notion of being upset that the man I loved deserted me while I was throat high in lace and wearing my grandmother’s pearls. “Looks like it fared well for all of us.”
“Are you married?” Patrick looks down at my left hand.
“No. Once I dodged the first bullet, I raised the bar dramatically.” I turn to Victoria and whisper loudly, “You know what I mean.”
Two young girls, who look to be about four and three, skip over.
“Daddy, can we get the cookies now?” the older of the two asks Patrick.
She has his small upper lip and freckles on the bridge of her nose. I might not want children, but there was a time that I considered it, and they looked like the cherub-faced girls in front of me.
My bravado falters as I blink over at Patrick. “You have children?”
Patrick’s demeanor shifts as he takes the girls’ hands and brings them in front of him. “Tara, these are our daughters. Lemon and Clementine.”
The chortle that falls out of my mouth is unintended. I quickly rein it in with a clearing of my throat and smile kindly. “The fruit of your loins are beautiful.”
Patrick, who seemed delighted to see me when he first walked in, now appears uneasy. Glad he caught up to the energy in the room.
“My family and I just moved to Newbury,” he explains. “The girls will be starting school here in the fall. We just closed on our house, so this is our little celebration. Cookies for the girls.”
My heart sinks, and I look at the family of four—Patrick, his Stepford wife, and their fruit. The realization that I will be seeing them often, running into them, is a knife to my belly.
Of all the towns on the planet, why, oh why, would Patrick be so cruel as to choose mine? Perhaps I’d have known he was a family man and would be attracted to a town such as this one if he’d had social media and allowed me to cyberstalk him properly, like an ex would do.
I often wondered what had come of Patrick Murphy in the years since he left me.
Now, I know he was pruning.
If I could tell him to go fuck himself, I would, but there are children present.
My only other option is to smile bigly and declare my excitement for them. “Congratulations!”
Victoria drops her shoulders in relief. “Thank you. I hope to see you around. It would be lovely if we could be friends.”
“Nah, I’m good,” I reply with a courteous smile.
I wiggle my fingers at the kids, lift my chin, and put an extra sway into my hips as I walk out the door, knowing the two of them will both be watching me leave. I know it’s not Victoria’s fault her man was a cad before they met, but it doesn’t stop me from disliking her for the mere point that she exists. In my town. Where I’ll be seeing her out and about for the rest of my pathetic single life.
Am I angry? Yes.
Could I possibly cry when the nerves boiling under my skin try to find a release the moment I’m out of their field of vision? Double yes.
Am I going to ignore both emotions, go to the bar, and drown myself in the flirtation of men?
You know it.
CHAPTERFOUR
“Fill her up to the top. I want that wine to hit the rim.”
