Page 3 of Dear Ripley

I looked at him, eyes wide, heart pounding painfully. “Harlow’s pregnant.”

He raised an eyebrow. “As in, actually pregnant? Not as in, just had another miscarriage?”

“Actually pregnant,” I confirmed, trying to ignore the disapproving tone in his voice.

“Well, look at that. She finally did it. I hope it was worth it.” He pulled his phone out.

I didn’t want to have this conversation again, especially not here, but how did it always come back to this?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, knowing the question and my tone were inflammatory but not caring when it was done to protect Harlow. She’d been my ride-or-die a lot longer than he’d been on the scene and I wasn’t sacrificing that for him.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Come on, Alicia. You know what that means. You’re too smart to play dumb.”

My insides clenched. I hated when he talked like that. “No. I want you to explain to me why, when I tell you my best friend is pregnant, you can’t even pretend to be happy for her.”

“Oh, I am happy. I’m happy she won’t be using your place as some kind of retreat to ignore reality every time she miscarries.”

Every part of me felt like it was on edge, like it was being torn to pieces and about to be burned. How could he be so cold and disgusting? We didn’t even live together. What difference did it make to him if my best friend came over?

When I didn’t reply, he looked at me, rolling his eyes at my expression. “Come on. We’ve been over this time and time again. She should have tried something else. Getting pregnant, all those miscarriages… it cost her her marriage, it cost you all that time and energy, we had to cancel a trip once for it, and she didn’t even reimburse us for the costs.”

“She’d just lost her child.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying, it’s a lot of lives to be messing with for no reason. Adoption was right there.”

My nostrils flared, my insides flaming. We’d been through this over and over again. He’d been there for a lot of it. “I’m sorry that you seem to think it’s that easy, but her marriage failed because of Ellie’s choices. They couldn’t find an agency they could afford that was willing to work with them, Ellie couldn’t handle the first two miscarriages, and figured she’d be better off abandoning Harlow in her pain and suffering, while she went out and slept with whoever she wanted, so fuck off blaming Harlow for that.”

He patted my knee patronizingly and I wanted to rip my own skin off. “Gay couples are allowed to adopt, Alicia. You can’t just take Harlow’s word that they were being homophobic.”

The bottom of my stomach fell out. He had no idea. Five years dating someone bisexual and he still had no idea. Not a clue. He lived in his precious blue state, believing he was an ally and everything was great, that if something was officially a law, that meant discrimination didn’t happen. And he had no fucking clue.

In my peripheral vision, I saw the person sitting across from us watching. I didn’t know if they were ready to rip Gabe to shreds with their bare hands, but that was definitely where I was at. The checkerboard Vans on their feet suggested they might just be queer too. I figured we’d be able to take him, the two of us, together. Me and a stranger, ripping this obnoxious, ill-informed guy apart.

I was pretty sure I could handle it alone, fueled by anger and disappointment at him and myself for being with him, but it was nice to have a partner in destruction. But still, we were in public and I really didn’t want to go to jail.

Five years and it all came down to this. That was fine. It wasn’t the worst breakup I’d ever gone through. Gabe didn’t even seem to know it was a breakup yet. And, since I had to sit beside him on the plane, I wasn’t going to tell him. He could sit in his high tower, looking down on the world, not realizing it wasn’t the one the rest of us lived in, and, when he was alone in his apartment tonight, that’s when he’d know. When the few items he had at my place were in a box in my building’s lobby, no longer wanted, that’s when he’d know I didn’t want him either.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’m going to get food.”

“I thought you just got food,” he said, not even looking up from his phone.

“Don’t remember asking for your opinion,” I replied, knowing I was being petty and ridiculous and still doing it as the only thing I could in that moment. I’d regret drawing it out later, but for now, this was what I had.

I caught the look in the person opposite’s eyes as I walked away, leaving Gabe there. It was the same one I knew was in mine, the one that burned with fury and passion, the one that said Gabe had to go and we both knew why.

And wasn’t there something poetic about finally realizing that mere moments after agreeing to go back to Jackson Point? Jackson Point. The place the worst breakup I’d actually ever had lived.

Chapter 2

Ripley

“Have you heard the news?” Freddie said, speaking almost too quickly as they came into the shop.

“New Taylor Swift album?” I asked hopefully, even knowing that, if she was dropping a new album, the last person I’d be hearing it from would be my elderly neighbor who came into Petal and Pebble to buy flowers for their husband once a week.

They froze, looking at me with a slightly bewildered look. “Who?”

I suppressed a laugh. Honestly, it hadn’t occurred to me that there was anyone alive who didn’t know Taylor Swift at this point, but I supposed there had to be someone, and apparently, that someone was Freddie Young. “Never mind. What’s the news, buddy?”

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