Page 32 of The Art Of Starting Over

Hayden looked at Devy. “Maybe her friend can come visit?”

“No, I don’t think that’ll be possible. Her mother is the other woman.”

“Ooh,” Hayden said, drawing out theooh. “Shit.”

Devorah nodded. “It seems Maren and I are the only ones losing in this situation. I lost my husband, home, business. My friends. Everything I’d built is gone, and everyone knows my dirty laundry thanks to my so-called friend.”

Hayden sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, you’re right about ‘everyone.’”

Her eyes shot to his. “Everyone? Here too?”

He nodded.

“That’s just fucking lovely,” she said as she wiped angrily at the instant tears. “I can’t even escape to my childhood home without this shit following me.”

“I think people here will have your back.”

Devorah scoffed. “Yeah, something tells me my former classmates will take every opportunity to rub it in my face. I wasn’t exactly nice to most of them.”

“We were kids. Kids are assholes,” Hayden said with some laughter. “You gotta keep your head up. Don’t let anyone bring you down.”

“I’m pretty much at the bottom of the barrel, Hayden. I’m not sure how much lower I can go.”

“If it’s any consolation, I haven’t seen the video, and don’t plan to watch it.”

“Thanks. I do appreciate that. Unlucky for me, though, as she’s posted more after the initial one.”

“And you’ve watched them?”

Devy nodded. “It’s like a train wreck—I can’t look away, even though I know it’s about my life. At least she doesn’t say my name. Even though all my friends in Chicago know it’s me. And I guess here as well.”

“Have any of those friends reached out to you?”

“They did, initially, but haven’t since.” Were they truly her friends? Wondering made her feel ten times worse and even more alone.

They sat there on the steps, listening to the foghorn in the distance and the soft melodic cadence of the water crashing against the docks. Every so often a car would drive by and honk, and they could hear people down the street, talking loudly. Mostly, they sat there, saying nothing to each other, just like they’d done many times before back when they were teens. Only now, Devy couldn’t look at Hayden, not with her tearstained face and bloodshot eyes. She wasn’t the girl he remembered.

Back then, she had a voice. She was loud, laughed a lot, and smiled endlessly. Dev couldn’t recall when she’d changed but suspected it was when she went off to college with Chad. It was at Northwestern when he started to assert himself more.

Or she allowed it to happen.

“On Friday, I’m taking Conor into town to buy some cleats. Baseball tryouts are on Saturday. Would you and Maren like to join us?”

Maren would for sure, but the invite was for them both.

Devy risked looking at Hayden.

She opened the door and found Hayden on their front porch. “Colt’s not home,” she told him.

“Damn, okay. Where are you off to?”

“The beach. Wanna come?”

“Are you walking?”

She nodded. “Do you see wheels with my name on them?”

Hayden chuckled. She liked the sound of his laughter. She liked him. More than she should. But he confused her, a lot. Occasionally, they’d make out. It was usually when he was at her house, or they’d find themselves alone somewhere. Being alone was hard, though. Dev was either with Laila or Colt was around, being an annoying brother.

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