Page 24 of Saving Ren
“Don’t, Jem, please don’t feel sorry for me. Not here, not tonight.”
“I just feel bad for not picking up on what was going on. I’m beyond pissed off you didn’t tell any of us.”
I shrug, I’m not going to apologise. It’s me it was happening to, I told them when I was ready, even now, I’m not sure if it’s too soon, if I maybe should’ve kept my mouth shut for longer and worked harder at trying to put things right with Jay.
“I’m probably gonna drink this and go. I’ve got a big day tomorrow and need to have my head on straight for it.”
“Fair enough, but do not stand here feeling guilty about getting attention from a hot as fuck thirty-odd-year-old because of your loyalty to a man who’s been putting his hands on you, in all the wrong ways, for months. Do not feel guilty about this, Lauren, not even a little bit.”
“Thanks.” I pull her in for a cuddle, still totally unconvinced as we stand at the side of the dance floor swaying.
“He’s on his way back, I’m gonna dance. Let us know when you’re ready to go.”
“Will do.”
I turn to see Gabe approaching as Jemma leaves. He hands me a drink with a smile.
“You didn’t run away then?”
“I thought about it, but the prospect of more vodka and giving you another serve kept my feet planted right here.”
“You know, if interior design doesn’t take back off for you, maybe you should consider stand-up comedy.” I flip him my middle finger, just as the sound of a sax or trumpet blasts out the beginning of ‘Geno’, and I know things are about to get messy.
“I apologise now and will totally understand if you want to disappear into the crowd and pretend we never met.”
He frowns in confusion as I hand him my drink, before being grabbed from behind and pulled into a circle with my friends. Jem’s arm hooks over one of my shoulders, Jo’s over the other as we dance and sing along. Geno ends butoursong,ouranthem replaces it. It’s the song we sing at the end of a drunken night together, the song we play down the phone to whichever one of us is missing from a night out. When we start singing this, our husbands know it’s time to take us home. That’s the way it’s always been, but now, it’s just the way it was.
The dynamics of our friendships will be forever changed by the fracture caused by the end of me and Jay. We take holidays together, spend Christmas, Easter, and other ‘family’ times together. We’re godparents to each other’s kids and are always there for birthday parties and special events, and all of that will be ending with the actions I plan on taking tomorrow.
When Lou and Jemma both start to cry, it hits me how much of a massive change is about to happen to my life.
Not even bothering to fight back my tears, I put one arm around Jemma’s waist, wave the other in the air, and sing at the top of my lungs to ‘Better be Home Soon’.
As the song ends, Jo appears in front of me. The least emotional of all of us, she places her palms on either side of my face.
“We will get you through this. Husbands come, and husbands go, but we will always have each other, and we will always have the music. I fucking love you bitches.”
Chapter 8
Gabe
“I pridemyself on being comfortably in touch with my feminine side, but I swear to God I have no clue what makes women tick. I mean, seriously, what the fuck is going on right there?” Zac says into my ear as me, him, and Cooper watch Lauren and her mates cry, dance, laugh, and sing their way through at least four songs.
They squeeze each other’s faces between their palms and sing to each other. There have been kisses to cheeks and to mouths, hands linked, and arms raised. They’ve entertained the entire bar.
“She’s going through some shit, about to separate from her husband. I think she’s just feeling a bit emotional and letting off steam. You know women, if one cries, they all cry.”
“About to separate?” Cooper asks. “You mean she’s still with him?”
“I don’t know the whole back story, but the marriage is over, and she’s moving out tomorrow.”
“And you still wanna get involved, even with all that drama going on?” Zac asks.
My eyes on Lauren, I consider Zac’s question as she sings and throws her arms about to ‘Hotel California’.
She’s not sloppy drunk, and now the tears seem to have stopped, it looks like she’s enjoying herself. And I’m glad. I want her to have a good night. I want her to remember the night we met as a happy one, and I can’t help but smile right along with her as she throws her head back and sings along to the band’s cover of the Eagles classic.
“What the fuck is going on with you?”
