Page 92 of A Quick Stop in Paradise

Allison looked like a kicked puppy showing up at the front door, and she didn’t have to say anything—I stepped back and let her in. Really didn’t want to talk about Ryan, but I had a feeling Allison wasn’t about to be chatty either.

“Have you had dinner?” she said, which reminded me that I did, in fact, still have to eat. I hadn’t even had lunch.

“I’ve got some pizza dough,” I said. “Any topping requests?”

“Pizza sounds incredible. I want mushrooms.”

That was specific. Allison had never once asked for mushrooms on her pizza. I wondered if Stella liked mushroom pizza… “I’m pretty sure I’ve got a can sitting somewhere. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want a drink?”

“I want an entire bottle of whiskey.”

“If we’re sneaking you alcohol, we’re not starting you off with depression binge drinking. Bad habit to build.”

Allison gave me puppy-dog eyes as I shut the door behind her. “Something with a lot more sugar than I should be drinking at this time of night, then.”

“Yeah… I might do the same.”

Allison was just as quiet as I’d thought, going straight out onto the back patio and hovering around the couch, alternating between crashing on it and meandering around the back to stare out over the greenery behind the house, but it didn’t lead to me thinking any less about Ryan. Just meant I didn’t even have a conversation to distract myself with. Cutting dough and rolling out pizzas had never felt so monotonous, so miserable, and I was itching to dosomethingby the time I was out on the patio with her, checking the heat on the oven before I slid the pizzas in.

Of course, I’d been itching to dosomethingsince earlier, when I’d had to handle the unbearable task that was saying goodbye to Ryan.Thanks for coming around,I’d tried to say, like it was all casual and like I wasn’t going to cry as soon as she was out the door.

Ugh.

“I told her,” Allison said as I was setting down her colorful drink, and I looked up at where she sat huddled in the corner of the couch, swaddled in a blanket, cast in long orange light from the torch lighting.

“Told… who? What?” I didn’t know if she was talking about Ryan or about Stella, but I wasn’t stoked to think about either one. I was wrong, though.

“Isabel.”

“Who…?”

Allison smiled thinly. “The girl whose girlfriend cheated with me…”

“Oh, yeah. Oh. God.” I dropped into the chair across from her, leaning forwards, desperate for anything to talk about, think about, other than Ryan and the overwhelming fact that she wasn’t here anymore. “How did it go?”

“It was as shitty as I’d expected,” she said with a halfhearted shrug, eyes looking somewhere just past me. “She laughed and told me her girlfriend wouldn’t be interested in me. Kept sending me harassing messages for hours after I’d tried to end the conversation with, you know,sure, do what you like, I just wanted to let you know,but she was still going, all…what are you after, why are you trying to sabotage our relationship, are you trying to get us to break up, are you trying to sleep with her, are you trying to sleep with me.And a lot of insults.”

“Christ, what an asshole.”

She shrugged again. “It’s a normal psychological response, isn’t it? She has to either figure out a way that I’m a lying dirtbag with an agenda, or reconcile the idea that her picture-perfect relationship with her hot girlfriend is broken. Of course it’s easier to revert defensively to the former.”

That was mature. More mature than I was. “I guess. Still a jackass.”

She grinned, just the littlest spark of Allison there in it. “I mean, didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“Okay, I’m glad we’re on the same page.” I stood up, picking the pizza peel off the wall and sliding the pizzas out, traying them up on the coffee table before I sat back down, picking up my drink and swirling it. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this from me, but hey, I’m damn proud of you. Just… takes a lot of guts, facing that kind of thing.”

She looked down. “Thanks…”

“How are you feeling?” That was a stupid-ass question. “About that whole thing specifically.”

“Honestly? Completely fine.” She let out a long, heavy sigh, shifting and lying down on the couch, one leg kicked up over the back. “A lot better. Now I know they’re both just a couple of douchebags, and I’m not the bad guy here.” She paused. “And there’s this one… tiny… vindictive little part of me that looks at all their pretty photos and happy relationship posts, and I look at the blonde bombshell there who sent me the most vile messages, and I’m like… ha. I fucked your girlfriend. So who’s winning now?”

“You do what you’ve gotta do to survive these situations.”

“Hopefully fucking other people’s girlfriends isn’t something Igotta doin the future. It sucks. Everything sucks. I just… wanted to… be better,” she said, her voice falling off into the tiniest little thing, almost swept away under the distant sound of the ocean waves. She gave me a small, vulnerable look, eyes shimmering. “Do you feel that way too…?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, looking away. “Not really,” I lied. I think it was a lie. I didn’t fucking know anymore.

---