Happily Divorced

(29) Ex-wife

Chassie George

"Wait, what? William Rossi is not the one?" Summer slammed her palms on the table.

I chew on my lip, my eyes darting on my twiddling fingers. "Yes."

France had his mouth hanging open. "Can you look me straight in the eye and tell me Mr. goody-two shoes William Rossi is not the one?"

I shake my head. "It doesn't really matter. There wasn't any spark. Not even the tiniest bit." I sighed dramatically.

"But that's not acceptable. Sparks get delayed sometimes. How about a second date to make sure this is not all a mistake?" Andrei reaches for my hand on the table, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I'm pretty sure this is not a mistake. I knew from the moment I ended up kissing him on the cheek." I twisted my pasta to my fork and ushered it to my mouth.

They all made faces.

"Why?" Summer questioned out.

"I don't know. We were standing in my doorstep and it just happened."

France and Andrei stares at me in silent scrutiny.

"Make me understand." She threw her hands in the air.

"I know." France shifted in his seat. "You have unresolved feelings."

"What?" My eyes widened.

"Ha." He grinned, glancing over to Summer and Andrei. "Knew it."

"What does that even mean?" Andrei snorted.

France stabbed a fork my way. "It means Chassie here is not completely over her past relationships," he pauses. "relationship, I mean."

I breathed out a sigh. My eyes darted to the table.

"Okay, that sigh was something. What are the deets?" Summer asks.

I could only shake my head.

"You still have another guy on the list, right? Another William? Or another Hunter? Oh, no. Not Hunter. You ended up with a broken arm."

My head flicked up. "It was just a mild sprain. And it was an accident."

"Are you really sure?" France's voice takes on a protective voice. "Because I'll make sure to make him pay?"

Andrei, Summer and I raised an eyebrow.

"What exactly would you do?" I laugh.

He crosses his arms over his chest. "I can be physical, you know."

"You're going to lightly tap on his shoulder?" Andrei and I shared a laugh.

Summer clears her throat in dismissal of the conversation. "Tell me there's still another guy on the list. You can move on to the next, right?"

"I don't have a "next guy." William Rossi was the closest thing to a decent guy." He didn't even so much as protest when I called him last night. He simply agreed to see other people.

"Of course, you still have one," Andrei says comfortingly.

I snorted. "Trust me. William Rossi was the only decent guy I dated."

"That's not true. You had Nathan."

My fork clang on the table. "Excuse me, what was that again?"

Andrei rolled her eyes. "Nathan."

"Yes. In case you didn't notice, he's the only guy you haven't given a second chance yet," Summer says with a nonchalant shrug.

"No. He doesn't need one. Have you forgotten about the fact that he has a girlfriend?" My eyes grew wide at them as if to make a point.

She slams her palm on the table. "Did space stop mankind from making the first footsteps on the moon?"

"Okay, honey, we're not your students." Andrei rubs her back as if to calm her down. "But we still don't know for sure if they're dating or not. Did you ask him?"

I sat back on my chair, my shoulders suddenly weighing a ton.

"Chassie, why didn't you ask him?" France mutters like he was talking to a difficult child.

I'm not a child, but I'm aware that I'm being difficult.

I scooted my eyes to my hands on the table. "I don't know. I just don't want to die a little if it ever were true that they're dating."

When my friends went eerily still, I look up with my heart in my throat.

They stared at me in wild fascination.

"Chassie, you still...?" Summer's words trailed off.

I gulp. It rings in my head. And my blood ran cold, anxious for what words are supposed to come after it. I still – blank – Nathan? My blood runs even colder at the thought that whatever nameless feelings I have, it never really gone away.

"Well, more reason for you to get the guy." Summer slaps the table, softer this time.

Andrei squeezes my hand again. "Just ask him. It's not like it's not your place to ask."

"And it's not like it's not your place to want him back," Summer says in a sing song voice.

A shard settled in my chest. "I don't think so."

They gaped at me. "Why?" They chorused.

"Look, Chassie," Summer sighed, "with girlfriend or none, you want the man."

I shake my head firmly.

"Well, why not? It was a mutual decision to divorce. Why not make it a mutual decision to get back together?" Andrei made a compelling point. But also, not quite accurate. Which is understandable because I hadn't openly talk about our not-so amicable "parting."

"It wasn't mutual," I murmur more to myself, my gaze on the glass of water. "It was me. I wanted the divorce."

Our table went dead silent for the longest two minutes of my life.

They flinched when my phone rings sharply on the table, buzzing almost like an earthquake. My fingers hovered over it when I saw it was Nathan. I waited. Until it stopped.

"Well, I better go." I stood up and hauled the sling of my purse to my shoulder. "Sydney invited us to her fancy restaurant."

"Wait, you're leaving?" Summer's voice sounded dangerously close to whining.

"You can't go. Not until after dropping that huge-ass bomb on us." Andrei frowned at me.

France clasped my wrist. "And you're going to Sydney's?"

As much as I loathe the idea, she invited Nathan, Ethan and me. Ethan wanted me to come. I promised I would. And I hope I'm perfectly clear that I'm not thrilled about it.

"You guys mull over the bomb while I play martyr." I grabbed my phone, giving my friends a backward glance and a little wave.