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RHEA
“Happy birthday, Rhea!”
Those three words coming from the mouths of my best friends were like music to my ears.
With the exception of reaching that final day with my family in our legal battle with the town over our farmland, I wasn’t sure there had ever been a day in my life when I’d felt such relief.
I desperately needed this time out today with Brooke and Emily, because I had started to convince myself I was on the verge of losing my mind.
Two weeks.
Other than last weekend, I’d spent two whole weeks running every morning. And I’d done it with Wyatt running along with me, making multiple attempts to spice things up on those runs.
The fartlek he’d wanted us to do hadn’t exactly worked out in his favor, but I wasn’t quite sure that mattered to him. In fact, I had a feeling he ultimately wanted me to win, since he’d brought that gift bag with the stuffed praying mantis.
I still couldn’t bring myself to accept he’d given that to me. What was his goal? What did he hope to accomplish by giving me something like that?
Worst of all, I hated that I hadn’t been able to bring myself to throw it out.
By the time I returned to the bike trail on the fourth day—something I did more out of a need to get some distance between us—I was shocked to find Wyatt didn’t necessarily care about his own knees and had decided to run right alongside me.
Even now, after all this time had passed, I was still bitter about the fact he’d been right regarding the pain in my knees being alleviated by trail running. Add just one more thing to the list of things that made Wyatt a lucky man, desirable to the masses—handsome, confident, rich, and smart.
I couldn’t take much more.
As the days passed and my birthday drew nearer, I grew more and more eager to make it to this point. I needed the break from him. I needed the advice from my friends.
Relieved, and grateful for another year, I smiled at the girls and said, “Thanks. I’ve been looking forward to tonight, ever since our last night out two weeks ago.”
“Me, too,” Emily muttered.
“We had such a great time that night,” Brooke added. “But I get the distinct feeling you are both feeling such relief about tonight for reasons unrelated to just wanting some fun with one another. Both of you look like you’ve been through the wringer.”
I was so grateful for Brooke’s astute observation and the way she was ready and willing to help us through whatever we had been dealing with on our own since the last time the three of us had gotten together.
My eyes slid away from Brooke and toward Emily. I could see the exhaustion written all over her face. “Are you okay?” I asked.
She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not going to talk about him tonight, Rhea. It’s your birthday, and we’re here to celebrate.”
These two women meant everything to me. There wasn’t a chance I was going to ignore what was staring me in the face. “We are here to celebrate, but we’ll get to that in a little bit. In fact, I’m making it mandatory during dinner for us to share what’s been happening for the past two weeks. I’ve got some news of my own to share, and I desperately want your advice.”
It took a matter of seconds for Emily to perk up in her seat. Her eyes widened as she leaned in. “Did you end up having dinner with Wyatt Westwood?”
Shaking my head, I answered, “No. But this is about him. Before we get into that, I want to know how you are doing.”
She shrugged. “I’m doing the best I can, all things considered.”
“You aren’t reconsidering your decision to cut things off with him, are you?” Brooke asked her.
“Absolutely not. I could never be that woman. But I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been difficult. We were together for quite a few months, and I developed feelings for him. Up until I learned the truth, things had been wonderful between us, so it wasn’t as though I’d experience any sort of breakdown in the relationship. It went from being great to being no more.” She sighed, her melancholy mood written all over her face. “I could never be with him again, not just because he’s married, but also because he betrayed my trust. Despite that, I can’t help feeling sad. I miss what I thought we had.”
My heart broke for her. It was one thing for us to meet up and talk about all of this a matter of days after she’d discovered the truth. She was being fueled by her anger at that point. But now that she’d had some time to allow it to settle in, it wasn’t surprising to learn she was struggling.
I hated this for her and wished there was something I could do to make it better.
“You haven’t spoken to him, have you?” I asked.
“Once,” she confessed. “He called on Sunday afternoon last weekend. I answered that call and listened to him attempt to plead his case while making false promises about wanting to be with me as soon as he divorces his wife. I eventually ended that call and haven’t picked up any of the ones that followed, nor have I responded to any of his hundreds of texts.”
