5. Britt

5

brITT

O h, this is a bad idea.

I push the door shut behind Adrian and lean back against it, my hands splayed against the cold metal.

It makes sense that he'd want to get involved in school stuff now that he's a single dad. And smoothing things over between us is best for everyone. We will inevitably run into each other at school events for the next few years, and it'll be painful and awkward. I can't pull the dive-behind-a-group-of-parents move every time.

Besides, there's nothing between me and Adrian. Nothing to hide. I stopped it before it happened. That was the whole point in me stepping away. There was no physical contact. He was married to my best friend.

But in hindsight, there were earlier signs.

I'd sit next to him instead of across when we'd get a post-workout drink, and our thighs would touch as we chatted. He was always looking for excuses to touch me. An extra long hug, help putting my jacket on, lingering touches at the gym.

And the hug at the airport—the one where I pressed my body against his—was not the norm. It was goodbye. I knew I'd messed up.

But that was my problem. It was one-sided, wasn't it? The fact that they got divorced anyway doesn't mean he reciprocated feelings.

What about just now, when it seemed he was ravaging me with his eyes? Did I imagine that?

I must've.

I close my lids. Dammit. That feeling is still there. Worse. And the warmth blossoming from my chest is a physical ache to have him touch me.

Doesn't matter. I can fight it off.

I come to life, wiping the coffee table and straightening couch cushions so the room is ready for the next morning. I place my mug upside down in the drying rack and freeze.

With Adrian being the bigger person and trying to make things normal or whatever between us, I should also finally summon the nerve to attempt peace with Reese. Surely, I can get her to listen to me. I'd apologize for whatever I did, for not being there for her divorce. Maybe even beg her to be friends again.

I miss her so much.

We used to write notes, like elementary school besties, and leave them on each other's windshields. Hers always made me cackle out loud. I could do something cheesy, like get her a friendship necklace. The little heart kind that's split in two and is popular amongst eight-year-old girls.

Then again, those necklaces remind me of a broken heart. Does she blame me for the divorce? She must. Otherwise, she'd have reached out. Or maybe she wants me to make the first move.

Captain materializes out of nowhere and presses his little gray body against my calves. He's always needy the nights Jackson stays with his father. That's when he's most likely to push a stack of papers off the table or casually swipe at the couch with his claws out. He's probably already hacked up a hairball in a corner. I squat down to stroke his silky fur just as my phone vibrates with an incoming text.

Adrian's name flashes on the screen. I suck my upper lip and click to expand the text.

Adrian

Hey. We'll hunt down every single remaining string of lights left in the state of New Jersey. And New York, if necessary. A trip to Pennsylvania might also be required

It's not normal how fast my heart beats, seeing his words in a text chain long since abandoned.

I should bail on tomorrow. Cut this thing off at the knees before it runs away on me.

Or, because that idea seems dreadful, I could work on squashing any of my remaining feelings for him. Yeah. Just run a giant dump truck over whatever lingering yearning remains in my sad little heart.

I'll go see Reese this weekend. It might take a hundred years, but I'll put in the time to make her understand how sorry I am. How much I miss her.

I'll start downloading dating apps and find my real true love.

Yeah, that'll work.