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“Oh, you don’t recognize this face. This is the face of the woman who took your man after you abandoned his ass in Memphis.” All confidence, and I can’t even hate her for it.
It’s hot as fuck.
“Enzo!” Kassidy seems offended, but she was the bitch, not me.
“What?” I don’t know why she wants me to defend her. It was fucked up.
Kassidy huffs out and goes to find her older son in the store. I shift the kid to my other side.
Phoebe watches her go and then looks at me like I should be following her. She turns back around and starts pointing at the island in the distance.
“So, how have you been? I’ve been waiting to see you, talk to you in person. It’s so crazy to bump into you here. It’s like it was meant to be. Right, Pheebs?” God, do I sound hopeful? Too hopeful.
Her assistant, who I can’t remember her name, but Connors would know, smiles first at what I said.
“It was nice seeing you, Kenzo. If you will excuse us, we have work to do.” Phoebe grabs her assistant's hand as she frowns at me, mouthing sorry for her boss’s behavior.
“Hey, wait. Don’t you want to catch up? Get a drink. I’ve lived here for a while, actually got out of the Navy last year. It’s so crazy to see you; I can’t believe you are here.” My hand hasn’t left her wrist. It feels the same as when I used to hold it. Phoebe matches the same to me as I have to her.
Phoebe stares at my hand on her, then at the boy, I am holding.
“You got out of the Navy and hooked up with Kassidy.”
“Yeah.” I nod and smile, then fix what she must think. “No, no, they are just visiting. This isn’t my kid; we were just catching up. I’m not hooking up with her. We aren’t together. I’m not with anyone.”
Her assistant stands behind Phoebe, giving me a thumbs-up; nice, glad that wasn’t a terrible recovery.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Phoebe asks, but the woman behind her shakes her head at me.
“Do what? I just want to catch up. I’ve missed you.” I lifted my hand to touch her face. I was so close, but she smacked it away.
“You are so selfish, Enzo. You have chosen to live in victim mode for the past ten years, hoping something will change. Someone will comfort your tragedy. It helps you rationalize that you don’t have to be responsible for your actions.”
“I didn’t know you would be here.”
“Well, then, fuck, no fault of yours.” God, what did I ever do to her besides everything?
“Phoebe, we have history. I am allowed to have a relationship with her.”
“You don’t think I know that? I saw it implode before my eyes!”
“You don’t know everything.” I try to defend myself; this isn’t how I wanted this to go.
“I don’t? Enlighten me, Enzo. Because the last time you talked to her, she was about to bash your head in with her fist. But maybe that’s what you like; it’s some people’s kink. To be abused. Way to continue the cycle. I hope that son doesn’t take notes on how to be a man from you being belittled by his mother.” She is angry; I hear it.
“Phoebe, stop it! Okay, just stop.” I stare out across the bustling crowd. “I’ve been talking to her a lot the past few months.” Great, this isn’t going well at all.
“Wow.” Her assistant agrees this is a dumpster fire.
The admission doesn’t shock Phoebe; it makes her grin like she knew I would do this. Because, apparently, that is who I am now.
PHOEBE
I am stuck in San Francisco, the ferries aren’t running, and apparently, my commitment to get back to my hotel room before dinner isn’t happening. My feet stay planted near the marina where I can catch a boat to San Rafael.
I try not to turn my head and look over my shoulder. A few blocks over, I know it’s the ramen place where we first exchanged the longing look of love.
It was wishful, promising, yet I sat in the burning sun wondering why the place even existed.
