Page 54 of Between the Flames

“Babe, you can’t work it out if you don’t give him the chance to explain himself.”

Rosie was giving me a small dose of her attitude. She was a no bullshit, work it out in the moment, kind of woman and with each day that had gone by that I hadn’t spoken to Ryder, she was texting me updates on how she thought we were both being stupid.

“Like he didn’t give me the chance to explain?” I was baiting her, finding myself looking for an argument for some reason, misplacing my anger.

“Valid point, but you have to remember he’s a man, and men are idiots. Look, I’m not defending him by any means, but I know how long and how hard you fought to push the memory of him out of your life, and now you don’t have to. I love that for you. I just want you to be happy.” Her voice wavered and grew quiet. “I’m on team Elle, always, but maybe… just maybe… he deserves another shot with you? Don’t forget the man was married for how many years? He probably has no idea how to navigate this new territory and these new feelings. Plus, it’s been weeks. How long are you willing to let the silence stretch between you?”

I hated when she was right. I sat quietly, watching the flames dance and the embers fall on the bricks. “You’re right,” I whispered.

“Usually am.” Rosie’s voice was light, and it sounded like she had pulled away from the phone, distracted by something. “What did you say he does for a living again?”

“He owns a contracting business.” This wasn’t going the way I had planned. I needed to switch gears and pull myself away from the topic of Ryder. “Anyway, let’s change the subject. What’s going on with you? Want to come over for some wine?” I asked, knowing she would never turn down a wine night.

“Oh, you know, just a little this and a little that. Nothing special. You said his last name is Thompson?” Her voice changed its tone, full of darkness and mischief; a tone she only used when she was a woman on a mission.

“Uh ya, Thompson. Rosie, have you forgotten that I know you? I can hear it in your voice that you’re doing something right now that you probably shouldn’t be. Now, spill it.”

Her laughter coursed through the speaker, a car door slamming in the background. “Hey, dickwad!” she bellowed, the sound of hammers and drills floating through to my end of the line.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, asshole,” she continued to shout. My heart rate quickened.

“Rosie! Rosie, who are you yelling at?”

“Hang on, Elle,” she told me sternly. I held my breath, straining to hear what was happening on her end of the phone.

“You. Yeah, you! Fucking. Asshole. What the hell are you thinking?!”

“Uh… what? Who are you?” I heard Ryder’s gruff voice through the phone and my heart sunk so low in my stomach that I wasn’t even sure it was still in my body.

“ROSIE, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” I screamed, desperate for her to return to our conversation.

This could not be my life right now.

“You know who I am, asshole. Now explain to me why you have been such a fucking coward that you’d rather sit in the corner with your tail between your legs instead of make up with the incredible woman whom you’ve been pining after for, oh I don’t know, the last decade?!”

I began to sweat while Rosie continue to yell at Ryder, desperate to see the look on both of their faces, while also wishing this wasn’t happening. I was embarrassed, but also proud of my best friend. She was a force to be reckoned with and when she loved; she loved fiercely. I was lucky enough to be a recipient of that love and her loyalty.

“I… uh…” Ryder’s voice was low, clearly confused by the verbal assault he was receiving. I could picture him, brows furrowed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You… um…” she mock stuttered. “Come on, you fucking pussy, pull the dick out of your ass and go make up with the amazing woman you fucked up with. I wouldn’t wait too much longer. She’s a gem.”

I put my phone on speaker, setting it in my lap and bringing my hands up to cover my face. The sound of gravel crunching signaled that Rosie was leaving, though she was silent on the other end of the line. I didn’t dare utter the first word, too shocked to form a sentence, anyway.

“A treasure,” Ryder’s voice yelled from far off in the distance. Rosie’s footsteps ceased.

“A what?” she called back to him, voice thick with attitude.

“I said she’s a fucking treasure.”

A moment later, a car door slammed. “He’ll be in touch to make up. Love you, bitch,” Rosie said, ending the call.

Laughter escaped my lips as I sat cross-legged on my couch, staring down at the blank screen of my phone.

That crazy bitch. Goddamn, I loved her.

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