Sometime Soon - By Debra Doxer Page 0,25
forget it. He wanted to see me again.”
I feel a knot forming in my stomach.
“I refused to see him though,” she says defensively, her eyes wandering back to the street.
“You’re talking to him on the phone?” I ask, finally finding my voice.
“Yes. He still calls me. During the day, mostly. When we’re both at work, to talk. But I don’t ever call him.” She makes sure to tell me this, obviously thinking it somehow means she’s less guilty.
“Does he want a relationship with you?” I ask.
“I don’t know. There’s an attraction there, but neither of us want to hurt Katie.”
“Oh my god, Bryn.”
“I know,” she nods miserably.
“This is why you’ve been acting strange? Why you haven’t spoken to Katie?”
Bryn nods again. “I didn’t know what to do, and I couldn’t face her.”
“But you can chat with Mike on the phone whenever he likes? Does he talk to you about his relationship with Katie?”
She’s reminding me of a bobble head doll as she continues nodding.
I look away from Bryn, breaking the terrible spell she’s cast, and the world comes back into focus. I stare blindly at my surroundings. Katie is going to be devastated. I reluctantly return to the conversation. “Why did you tell me this?”
“I had to tell someone. I feel so awful about everything.”
“Not awful enough to stop talking to Mike.” I glare at Bryn. Her eyes are red and her face is tearstained. “You like him.”
She seems surprised by my statement. I think she’s not going to comment when she finally says, “I don’t know.”
“Is he going to call off the wedding?” I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.
“I know he’s been having second thoughts. But I don’t know if he’s serious.”
I feel queasy as I push away my half empty frappuccino and study Bryn, her full face pale against her faded yellow Life is Good T-shirt. “What have you been thinking?” I ask, genuinely wanting to know. In my opinion, Mike isn’t worth even five minutes of thought, and yet he has two women fretting and pining over him. I suddenly feel restless. Before she can answer my question, I stand abruptly.
Bryn jumps to her feet. “Are you going to tell Katie?”
The thought makes my chest feel tight. “Maybe you ought to tell her.”
“I can’t.” Her voice is quiet but adamant.
Then a terrible thought occurs to me. I can feel the frappuccino churning in my stomach. “If you tell Katie, you’re afraid Mike will be angry with you. But if I tell her, you might have a chance with him.”
Her response is silence. No denial.
“He’s a miserable asshole, bad-mouthing his ex-wife all the time and now doing this to Katie. How could you want someone like that?”
“But he isn’t that way. You don’t understand.”
“What don’t I understand?”
“It’s not his fault.”
“What isn’t his fault?” I challenge. “His life?”
“He and his wife were never happy. She never really loved him. And now Katie’s pushing him to get married, and he isn’t ready for that again.”
“So rather than being straight with her, he keeps up a charade while he’s taking his consolation from you?”
“You just don’t understand,” she says softly.
I walk out of the Starbucks without looking back.
“Interesting morning,” Joan comments, back at her post again.
“You have no idea,” I mutter, and continue on to my desk. Nate is gone, probably uneasily continuing his paternity leave.
“You don’t want to miss The Bachelor tonight,” Rob says, stopping by my cube.
“Why not?” I ask, feigning interest.
“I saw the previews. The panty girl gets drunk and passes out on the bed. She’s too wasted to show up to get a rose.”
“She sounds like quite a catch.”
“They sure can pick ‘em for that show. During the auditions, they must look for the wackiest, most mentally unstable women they can find.”
Once Rob ambles away, I settle in at my desk and stare blindly at my computer monitor. Poor Katie. Telling her is the right thing to do, despite the fact that Bryn has manipulated me into it. It has to be in person. I can’t tell her something like this over the phone. We’ve all had that hypothetical thought. If your boyfriend or husband were cheating on you, would you want to know? It’s a big ‘yes’ for me. As appalled as I am with Bryn, I know I’m angry for another reason, too. I’m feeling astounded that two sensible women have allowed themselves to be hooked by this completely despicable man. Are the pickings so slim that if any man pays