Page 11 of Every Broken Promise
“Put me down, you fucking asshole,” I demanded as I punched his back.
Not too hard because the last thing I wanted was for him to drop me.
Oooh, I could sue his ass if he did that.
The thought of suing him held appeal. Shakira did say women no longer cried—they billed.
“Stop behaving like a bitch, Astrid. That’s not who you are.”
“Adam, if you don’t tellTylenolover here to put me down, I swear to God I will sue for sexual harassment!”
Adam did not come to my rescue, but I did hear him cracking up—and loudly.
Tyler put me down once we were next to my car.
He was not impressed by my little outburst. His jaw was set as he looked at me, and his eyes didn’t stray from my face. It was like he was trying to find a hint of the girl he used to know.
He was going to stare forever because that girl was gone.
“Talk to me, Astrid,” he pleaded.
I crossed my arms, still angry at the fact that he called me a bitch.
“Listen here,Tymbal, and listen well. You don’t get to call me a bitch. You do not know me. You do not get to have an opinion on my life.”
He flinched.
“You can’t even say my name?” His voice was a low hiss. “We were friends for years, Astrid. Best fucking friends. What we had doesn’t end in one night.”
My throat constricted.
What we had. Apparently, I was the only one who cherished our friendship—maybe a little too much because I felt something else for him.
I was stupid.
“Trust takes years to cultivate, and all it takes is one moment to make it go away,” I choked out.
His eyes flashed, and some of the anger went away.
“Now, can you tell me about my car, or do I have to get Adam so he can help me?”
I turned my body toward the hood of my car, effectively stopping any talk about us. It took a second, and I heard Tyler sigh.
“Bring your car in three months. You were driving on fucking fumes. I know you know better than to wait on an oil change.”
Ty left the keys on the hood of my car, and I didn’t turn even though I wanted to. I heard the door open and close, and then I was left alone, telling myself that I shouldn’t cry. I felt stupid because I wanted to run after my once best friend.
The garage door opened, letting me know Ty had given up. Whether that was a good or bad thing, I did not let myself thinkabout it. I wanted to drive off with the music blasting so it could drown out my thoughts, but I had to be a responsible adult.
Augh.
My life would have been much simpler if I had found a stupid job outside of this town. Taking a deep breath, I ignored the smell of motors and old tools—it smelled comforting, like my childhood, except everything was foreign now.
When I came back out to the reception area, Tyler was nowhere to be seen. Adam was leaning on the counter, and in his mouth was the horchata boba I set there before he hugged me.
“You’re welcome for the drink, Adam.”
My tone was sarcastic, which went right over his head.
