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“You did?” I ask.
“Yep. You can’t beat yourself up for wanting to save your marriage, Taeli. And no one should judge you for trying to work things out and getting burned again,” Jena says.
“Least of all us,” Erin agrees.
Our orders arrive, and I enjoy the best beef brisket and baked beans that I’ve ever had. This place might look like a dive, but the service and food quality are impressive.
Several patrons make their way to our table to say hello, and the girls introduce me to everyone like we are the best of friends.
It’s nice to spend the evening just being me. Not Damon’s wife.
We dance, play a round of darts, order another bucket of beers, and settle back in at our table.
“I want to know one thing,” Jena says, leaning over the table and taking my hand.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Why in the hell are you still wearing your wedding rings?”
She holds up my hand to show the diamond and band on my finger.
I look at the set through my beer-soaked eyes and frown.
Why am I still wearing them?
“I don’t know. Habit?” I answer.
“Habit? Girl, it’s been months. How are any of these fine men going to know you are available for rebound sex if you have that dickhead’s rings on?” Erin asks as she gestures around the bar.
“Are you even sure you want a divorce?” Jena asks.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I say.
“Really sure?” Erin asks.
“One hundred percent sure,” I insist.
She looks at Jena and grins. “I think she’s ready.”
Jena nods her agreement, and then they both look at me.
“Ready for what?” I ask.
“A ring toss,” Erin says.
“Oh boy,” Ansley says.
“Finish your beers, ladies. I’ll grab the check,” Jena instructs before waving down our waitress.
