no uncertain terms. Maybe she was a bonehead. All she knew was that it seemed that she was on some kind of journey with herself, only her view of the road was dim, and she’d forgotten to turn on her headlights.
“Want to grab a cup of coffee? That little diner with the burgers on eighth is open late.” Lana held up her hands. “No strings. Promise.”
“Best offer I’ve had in a while.”
Twenty minutes later, they sat in the back booth at Blue’s Burger Box. The food was greasy as hell, but the coffee, as plain as it was, was always served hot.
Lana set down her cup. “I have to be honest. I never once pegged you as someone who would want to settle down and couple up.”
Ryan looked at the wall on which she saw a cartoon hamburger flashing jazz hands. “I have to be honest. I didn’t either.” She shook her head. “I take that back. I wanted it to work so badly, but I started to realize that I was going to lose out. When you put your whole heart into something, you have to trust that other person won’t smash it up. I’m not sure I can do that.”
“Oh, so you’re a chicken?” Lana’s green eyes danced in challenge. “Who the hell knew?”
“Knock it off. No. I’m just…not built for it.”
“Okay, it’s all coming together. The Biddies put out there that you two were in a magnificent love triangle for the ages.”
“God.”
“And now you tell me that you’re a running-scared chicken, which means that you just surrendered the woman you’re in love with to your romantic rival.” She nodded. “I read a lot of romance novels.”
Ryan hesitated because that was a lot. Of course the Biddies had weighed in, but she had no capacity to focus on that now. The rival part had her going. “You know that written in the stars mentality we’re brought up on in movies and books?”
“Of course. The meant-to-be factor. Endgame romances are popular for a reason.”
Ryan nodded. “At first, I was certain I was a part of one of those couples. Who would have guessed it, right? Me. And it was probably the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me, but as time went on, I started to doubt myself and lose trust in what we had.” She exhaled and ran her thumb along the handle of her mug. “Then something clicked. I got it. I wasn’t part of the endgame couple at all. I was the pining away, tragic secondary character who would disappear in the third act.”
“And Madison and Gabriella were the stars of the show.”
Ryan lifted a shoulder. “Madison definitely fits the part more. I do construction, and she rubs elbows with the wine elite. Why prolong the inevitable? The sooner I got the hell out of the way, the quicker they could realize their lost love, and we can get to the credits with my sanity and emotional well-being intact. At least shreds of it.”
Lana sipped from her mug. “This is deep for coffee.”
“Yeah, well, I’m apparently boring now. It’s what I do.” She shook her head. “I actually like it, which is frightening.”
They shared a quiet laugh.
Lana leaned her chin on her palm. “She’s done a number on you, and I have to be honest, I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” She winced. “Not that I didn’t like you before.”
“Oh, sure.”
“No. Listen, I’ve always thought you were hot.” She laughed quietly. “You know that part. Just a little aloof and unanchored. We had fun, though.”
“A lot of fun.” Ryan could admit to that part. She and Lana had been carefree and light. There was a mutual respect between them.
“I filed for divorce. The paperwork part. It’s been a year and a half since I moved out. It’s time.”
“Wow.” Ryan blinked. “You’re almost official. What now?”
The tiniest of smiles hit. “Don’t tell the Biddies, but I’m seeing someone. A woman in Portland.” She held up her hands. “Nothing serious yet, but there’s chemistry there. Potential.”
Ryan picked up her coffee cup and touched it to Lana’s. “Look at us, growing up and moving on.”
“I’d really like it if we could stay friends, though.”
“I think we already are.”
Lana closed her eyes. “This is now officially a Disney sitcom.” She looked around. “Is there an underscore happening?”
Ryan laughed. “Nothing seems to surprise me these days.” She dropped her head back. “Fuck.”
“No, no, no. You can’t say fuck on Disney.”
“Darn it all.”
“Better.”
After that night, the weirdest thing happened.