Page 18 of Set on You

My mind races as I come to the full realization that the man who gave me the best kiss of my life was not single. He was taken. The sincerity in his eyes when he looked at me was a massive lie. Nothing but a farce. An Academy Award–winning performance.

And worse, I feel awful for Diana, his figure skater girlfriend. I’m all too familiar with the betrayal, heartbreak, anger, and feeling of unworthiness that accompany being cheated on. Looking back, I have reason to suspect a few weeks’ overlap between myself and Neil’s ex, Cammie, before he officially went back to her. The last thing I’d ever want to do is to bethatperson to another woman. Not that the onus of blame should rest on the third party. But I don’t want any part in the narrative at all.

Scott tears his deceitful eyes from me, giving his grandfather a warm, genuine smile. He rounds the table toward us to pull Martin into a loving hug. “So sorry I’m late. Had a fire call at the end of my shift.”

“What happened?” Martin asks.

“Some kids started a kitchen fire. Their parents weren’t even home. If the neighbor hadn’t called 911, it woulda been bad. They were all shaken up. Really young too. The crew and I stuck around to make sure they were okay,” he humble-brags.

A mildly audible snort escapes me. My brain cannot reconcile the image of morally corrupt Squat Rack Thief comforting small, trembling children. He has to be exaggerating. In fact, I’d bet money he was at home, lazing around in low-cut boxers. Heprobably lost track of time diligently organizing his various protein powders, or worshipping his own reflection in the mirror.

Martin forgivingly waves him off. “Atta boy. Always knew you’d make me proud.”

Scott nods in faux-hero solidarity and then turns, embracing Grandma Flo with the biceps I’ve only recently discovered are used to save people’s lives from fires... and to lift me against lockers. “Flo, you look stunning,” he tells her, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly.

Not only is it irritating that Scott is flashing her a wholesome, charming smile, but it rankles that he’s already well acquainted withmygrandma.

I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. This reminds me of the time my high school friend Kelsey started dating our English teacher when we went away to college. Aside from how inappropriate and creepy it was, him showing up at our dorm room parties felt wildly bizarre. Like two very separate worlds that should never, ever collide.

Scott meets my eyes again. His Adam’s apple bobs when he registers the open seat,hisseat, directly beside mine.

Before he sits, Martin introduces us. “Scotty, this is one of Flo’s beautiful granddaughters, Crystal Chen.”

I want to slap away Scott’s smug expression as he holds his hand out. “Scott Ritchie. Nice to meet you,Crystal,” he says, as if we’ve never met. As if we didn’t get hot and heavy in the gym changing room forty-eight hours ago.

He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement. If he feels the slightest bit guilty for cheating on his figure skater girlfriend with me, there is zero evidence to support it. And it’s infuriating.

I want to call him out on his infidelity, right here, right now.Expose his misdeeds. But I think better of it. The last thing I want to do is ruin Grandma’s dinner, especially after I promised Tara I wouldn’t. So, I take a breath and hold my tongue. “Likewise,” I say primly.

I eye him suspiciously as he takes his seat beside me. If I thought he smelled good sweaty after a workout, he smells frustratingly delightful now—like a steamy shower fantasy. He’s definitely just showered, because he smells like that green bar soap. Manly. Slightly spicy. Far too alluring. Apparently, this is the scent of a coldhearted cheater who shows no visible signs of remorse.

My body is a traitor. The mere proximity of him sends a hum of energy to every limb, all the way down to my toes. I resettle in my seat, turning away from him as Patricia flashes him a stern, motherly look, which I can tell is silently screaming,How dare you be late to your own grandfather’s engagement dinner?

I refuse to look at him as Martin resumes his speech.

“As I was saying, I’ve loved Flo since first grade. Since the day she stole my cap at recess and refused to give it back. She’ll probably argue with me on the semantics, but we went steady for most of elementary school, until she broke up with me for Ned Reeves.” He eyes her with a nostalgic smile.

Grandma Flo whacks him on the arm from her seated position. “I broke up with you because you kissed Peggy Penton.”

The two of them chuckle and Martin continues on. “Anyway, we had a couple years apart... quite a few.” His voice cracks. “We lived most of our lives as dear friends, but I’ve always cared deeply for her. I loved Roger as well.” He takes the time to look at each and every member of my family. “I promise to take as good care of her as he did for fifty-seven years.”

Everyoneawws, clapping politely before raising a toast to Grandma Flo.

I’m in shock as I raise my wineglass, clinking it robotically against Scott’s. Martin has been in love with Grandma Flo since first grade. As adorable and country-love-song-worthy as that is, all I can think about is Grandpa. I think about all the times Martin was over when Tara and I were at their house. I think about how much Grandma talked about him. The fact that I even knew him so well as a friend of hers makes me question if there was something more going on. Martin had a wife too, but she passed away at least ten years ago, from my recollection. Is it possible she was cheating on Grandpa with Martin? Did she love Martin? The entire time?

I’ve always held my grandparents’ relationship on a pedestal. Grandpa used to bring her flowers every Friday. Though he was outwardly crabby about it, he always made special meals for her, even when she went through a phase when she would only eat a raw, plant-based diet. I’m left to wonder if it was all a sham. And now I have to deal with Scott the Cheater’s presence.

I try to gauge the rest of my family’s reactions to Martin’s speech, but no one else appears bothered. Mom is busily chatting with the waitstaff about how they avoid cross-contamination in the kitchen. Tara is in deep conversation with Grandma. Dad is still engaged in what looks like a bromance with Martin’s son.

I don’t know if it’s the wine, but I’m prickly with heat, squished between Grandma’s new love and the Cheater. I stand abruptly, knocking my napkin off my lap as I shuffle into the dim hallway next to the bathrooms. The wall is cool against my fingertips. I squeeze my eyes shut, taking a deep breath in and out, trying topush the antisocial monster within me back under temporary lock and key.Just get through dinner, I tell myself.Then you can go home, curl up in bed, and avoid all reality.

On my inhale, my nose catches a whiff of that green-bar-soap scent. Without even looking, I know Scott is afoot.

I pry my eyes open, confirming he is, indeed, right in front of me.

“You alright?” he asks huskily, studying my face. “You look a little pale. I can grab you some water if you want.” He’s teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands in his pockets.

“I’m fine. Just needed space,” I say, too flustered to come up with a remotely cutting response.

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