Page 16 of Fragments of You

Nash.

Suddenly, it feels like the floor has opened up beneath my feet and I’m free-falling into the abyss. I reach out, trying to grab onto something to slow my descent, but I find nothing but air.

“Hi, P.” His deep voice washes over me, only serving to further disorient me.

Pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to find solid ground again, I glance to the left to see the woman he’s with, not at all expecting to see yet another familiar face staring back at me.

Iris.

My stomach coils painfully, filling with so many emotions I can’t grab onto a single one but shock.

“Paisley, oh my gosh.” Iris moves in, not missing a beat, offering me a brief one-armed hug that I do not return, for no other reason than I feel completely paralyzed by the moment. “I haven’t seen you since my father’s...” Her expression dims.

“Yeah, I...” I find it difficult to speak, mainly because stark blue eyes burn holes into the side of my face. “How are you? How’s your mom?”

“I’m good. My mom is hanging in there. Getting better every day.”

“I’m glad.” Awkward doesn’t even begin to cover the complexity of this moment. “Well, I should...” I point to the counter.

“Yeah, us too.” Nash draws my attention back to him. “You ready, Iris?” He glances at my friend—I mean, I think we’re still friends—who smiles and nods.

“Yeah, we should go. It was great seeing you, Paisley.”

“Yeah, you too,” I lie straight through my teeth, thinking the bitch is lucky I don’t have a sharp object on me because if I did, I would probably stab her with it.

Surprised by the direction of my own thoughts, I quickly sidestep the pair, purposely avoiding looking at Nash as I do.

It’s bad enough that he’s back, but that he’s hanging out with Iris, of all people, feels almost like a betrayal. And I realize how hypocritical that sounds, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like I’ve been sucker punched right in the gut. It’s only five short steps to the counter, and yet each one feels so heavy, it’s like I’m dragging cinder blocks behind me.

“Hey, P.”

I tell myself not to turn back, not to give Nash a second more of my time, but that’s the exact opposite of what I do.

“Can we maybe talk sometime?” he asks, holding my gaze intently.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I curse the slight shake to my voice.

“Because your fiancé wouldn’t like it?” He tries to hide his sneer but fails miserably.

“Because there’s nothing left to say.”

“I disagree.” He swipes at his hair, a nervous tell of his.

I muster every ounce of willpower I have not to let knowing this disarm me.

“Let’s not further complicate this, okay? Now, if you don’t mind.” I turn back around, honestly not sure how my legs are still supporting my weight at this point.

I hold my breath as I wait for the door to chime, signaling their exit; only when the sound finally reaches my ears, it’s not relief I feel, but something much more complicated. I don’t turn to watch them leave, no matter how desperately I want to.

It isn’t until they’re gone that everything seems to fully sink in.

What. The. Actual. Hell.

What. The. Actual. Freaking. Hell.

I’m still shaking a few moments later as I exit the restaurant, a large pizza wedged precariously between my hip and my arm.

I silently curse myself the entire walk back to my car, wishing I would have responded better, wishing I were a better actress. Wishing I could act like I wasn’t the least bit affected to see him. Only I was affected... Hell, I’m so affected that I replay the interaction a hundred times over in my head on the drive home.

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