Page 93 of Hard to Take

Still, I wish it left me with a warm, fuzzy feeling inside instead of this pit.

It could be that the pit is over what I’m about to do rather than what I’ve just done.

The Uber pulls up outside the restaurant, a white wood façade with clean, simple and probably expensive lettering. I thank the driver before slipping out.

“Talk to Kevin,” Mom said.

“I’d appreciate it,” she said.

Despite what Miles and I discussed, I ultimately decided to meet the guy I once thought I loved.

I’m doing it for my mom, but also, the deeper I get with Miles the more I realize I need to clear out what’s left of the past.

When I get to our table, it’s in a private room.

My flags are going up, but it’s only Kevin. I can handle him.

“Thank you,” he says with a wide smile when the waitress sets a napkin in his lap. “Still prefer red wine?” he asks me.

“We’re here to talk and I don’t think it’s about wine. But yes, red is fine,” I nod to the waitress, who’s already looking between us warily.

Kevin leans back in his seat, sizing me up. “Caroline and I called it off.” He pauses to let that sink in. When I don’t speak, he continues. “Planning a wedding is so much work, but it turns out canceling one is easy. A couple of calls. Vendors move on. A cascade of bills. Some silence. Then it’s over.”

“Tragic. We’re not meeting to talk about your love life, either.”

“Aren’t we?”

Caroline dodged a bullet, I want to say. But I swallow it. I get that I’m impulsive, and being polite to him will help people I love.

“She was everything I thought I wanted,” he goes on. “Beautiful, of course. Composed. Deliberate.”

“Cunning?” I can’t resist saying. “You thought you wanted that for a while.”

The waitress brings red wine, and I don’t stop her when she pours some into my glass. He orders a steak and I get the fish.

“It’s strange how you view something differently when it’s yours,” he says.

“She’s not a thing. She’s a person.” Even I’m not going to let him throw her under the bus.

Kevin takes a sip, frowning into his wine as if it has disappointed him too. “I always tried to be what my parents wanted. To go into law. I should be partner in a year.”

“Congratulations,” I say flatly. It would be impossible not to be a partner at your own family’s firm. A failure of nepotism.

“I gave up so much, Bee. You know what it’s like. I only realized it recently, how you had to give up twice as much to get the same amount back. And I know what you’re thinking. We wouldn’t have fit.”

“Because you cheated on me and left drugs in my room.” I lift one of a dozen reasons out of my mind.

His shoulder lifts under the tailored jacket. “We all made mistakes as kids.”

I reach for my wine and take a long sip. The warmth distracts me from the conversation.

He talks more bullshit, and I nod sporadically to keep from falling asleep. My mom owes me big time.

“How are you?” he asks as our plates are set in front of us.

“Never better.”

“You and that basketball player, huh?”

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