Page 29 of We Can't Be Friends

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, weirdly, I think I am.” Her words are steady, but her tone isn’t. “I know the situation sucks, and I should be more upset than I am, but I never understood why people waste their energy on people that don’t deserve it. Seth made that choice, not me. He has to deal with the consequences, why do I need to deal with them also?”

That was not what I was expecting to come out of her mouth.

She keeps going, “I already wasted months on him that he never should have been given. If his eyes are easily swayed, then he is theirs. This isn’t a reflection of me, at least I don’t think.” Shelaughs without opening her mouth. Short and full of attitude. “I’m not seeing it that way. I’m good, my world is moving forward.

“I realized a while ago that he was wrong for me. I saw the signs, but I didn’t. . . I don’t know why I stayed—thinking he’d somehow change. That he’d stop dicking around, but he isn’t going to. Seth is who he is. The cheating threw the rose-colored glasses I was wearing off, but what you said to me loosened them. Maybe that’s why I asked you to lunch. To thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Henry. For what it’s worth, it’s his loss. There’s someone incredible out there and when you meet them, they’ll love you right.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She shrugs a shoulder. “Alright, I spilled about my life. Tell me something about you?”

“I like tea.”

Chloe’s head tilts, giving me a look that saysreally, that’s itas if she’s disappointed I didn’t say anything else.

We go about the rest of lunch, and then surprisingly we get lunch every day the rest of the week.

8

CALLUM

Samantha steeples her hands under her chin after setting her cortado down. Her mouth is delicate and painted a dusty pink that matches the blush on her high cheekbones.

“When did your family move to the States?”

“Before year nine.”

Samantha Donaldson, an old family friend, and I are on an arranged date by my mother. One of the several that she set up in an attempt to fix me.

Everything down to this French café and suggested order was planned by my mother. Samantha’s mother is also a willing party in all of this.

The Donaldsons became friends with my parents shortly after Audrey started school. She and Samantha were in the same class before they moved from England to New York. I didn’t know they relocated again to Chicago. Her father’s law firm has locations in several major cities, including America, France, and England. Samantha has an older brother who is destined to take over the family business.

And apparently, she’s destined to marry rich.

“Do you like it?”

Her perfectly blown-out red hair shifts with her shrug. “I suppose. We go back to England on holiday, and I hope to move back there someday, truthfully.” Her mouth snaps shut as if she wasn’t supposed to say that.

“I miss it too.”

“Do you plan to stay?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

Our mugs are empty quickly. The conversation lulled between us. After an hour, I’ve learned nothing new about her. Each response felt scripted, and when she did stray, she quickly backtracked.

I excuse us, kissing her cheek goodbye.

Mapping how far home is from the café, I opt to take the twenty-minute walk back. Enjoying the cloudless skies while we have them.

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