Page 128 of Plays Well With Others

“Were you honest with each other?” Elena asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Did he treat you with respect?”

“All the time.”Even when he bit me, spanked me, and almost choked me.

“Were you truthful with each other?”

I hesitate. “I think so.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Well, I didn’t tell him I fell in love with him. I didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Do you think your friendship is strong enough to withstand that piece of information?”

The hair on my arms stands on end.

That’s the right question. That’s the one I never asked myself. I just assumed the truth would ruin our friendship. But maybe we’re strong enough. “I don’t know,” I say, but my voice climbs up. With new hope.

“You’ve been friends for fifteen years. You tell me if it’s strong enough.”

I have chills. Good chills. Excited chills.

Maybe our friendship is strong enough. Maybe I haven’t been giving it the credit it deserves. Maybe I haven’t been giving myself the creditIdeserve. Maybe I need to trust my own heart more. Maybe I need to go out on a limb.

I thank her and walk into my store feeling excited about this new possibility. But also feeling a lot of pressure to find a new manager soon.

Because I want to be in San Francisco, rather than here.

First, I conduct a job interview, then I help the employees, doing my best to stay in the moment. Around lunchtime, I send them out, and a few minutes later, someone I know far too well walks through the door.

My ex-husband.

I don’t think he notices me, even though I’m the only one in the store right now. He’s busy perusing necklaces, and it’s the strangest thing to see him. It’s…surreal. From behind the counter, I study his handsome face, his tailored suit, his shaven jaw, his expensive watch.

And I feel nothing.

I don’t feel shame.

I don’t feel anger.

I don’t even feel hurt anymore.

If I feel anything, it’s gratitude that I got out in the nick of time.

But I still don’t want that asshole in my store.

I clear my throat and since there aren’t any customers here this second either, I don’t mince words when I say, “What are you doing here?”

He looks up and smiles pleasantly. He doesn’t even act surprised. This is how he fooled me. His poker face.

But I’m over it and over him.

“Good to see you, Rachel. I was just buying a necklace,” he says, like I care.

Ha. As if I’d sell to him. I point to the door. “No, you’re not.”

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