Page 47 of Versions Of Us

“Well, what do you expect? You left without a word, no real explanation.” EJ’s voice rises in volume as he moves in front of me. “You stopped answering your phone. You wouldn’t reply to texts. How could you do that to Kristen?”

I stiffen at the mention of her name, remembering the hurt in her eyes, the anger I’d seen in them last night. I look up, realising we’ve caught the attention of a couple of customers, my nostrils flaring in defiance.

EJ takes another step nearer. “Where the hell have you been? She was a mess after you left.”

“You think I don’t know that?” I shout. “You think I didn’t think about her every goddamned day?”

He shifts backward, seemingly intimidated by the weight of the glare I aim at him, but I move forward, encroaching on his personal space.

He holds up his hands in surrender and takes two steps back. I’m shaking, overcome with rage, my hands balling into fists at my sides. It takes a moment for me to remember we have an audience and in an instant, I snap out of it, retreating as quickly as I’d sprung.

EJ shakes his head.

In disgust, in disapproval, I can’t tell.

Probably both.

“What happened to you, man?” he mutters.

I let out a shaky breath. There’s no good way to answer that question, so I keep my mouth shut, lowering my glare to the floor.

“You’re lucky my dad even let you come back here,” he says quietly, before turning and heading out the door.

I’m still standing there moments after the door swings shut behind him.

“Show’s over,” I snap at a group of people sitting nearby, collecting a couple of dirty plates and a water jug from the closest table.

I storm into the kitchen, throwing them too aggressively in the sink causing them to shatter into pieces.

“That’s coming out of your paycheck,” I hear Dylan say as I continue through the back and up the stairs to the loft.

Fuck this day.

Fuck it all.

Chapter 20

KRISTEN

“Is it true?” Liv barges into my living room, incredulously waving her phone around in her hand. “EJ just called me and said he dropped by the tavern to check on things and Henley was back!”

I sigh before confirming. “Yeah, it’s true. He’s apparently living in the loft.”

Word sure does travel fast in small towns.

“Oh my god!” she exclaims, eyes wide. “Are you okay? Have you talked to him yet?”

“Briefly. It didn’t go so well,” I answer. I’m mentally exhausted from replaying the conversation in my head. “Although, I don’t really know what I was expecting. I guess I was expecting to never see him again. And then, all of a sudden, there he was.”

“Did he at least give you a proper explanation about what he’s been doing this whole time?” she asks.

“Not exactly,” I answer.

But then I hadn’t really asked, had I?

His presence alone had been too much for me to comprehend, let alone the words expressed between us.

“Yeah. That must have been crazy. Are you okay?” she asks again, softer this time. The couch cushion dips beside me as she slumps down into it.

---