For the Love of Friends(101)

“You were the one who wanted to talk.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “I miss you. So much.” He didn’t respond. “I—know what I did was awful, but—you were married before. It’s not like either of us has a clean slate.”

He started. “You’re comparing me being divorced to you sleeping with Justin? And you think that’s why I’m mad at you?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well—yes. You could have had me—at any time—and you picked him of all people?”

“I didn’t know I could have had you. I didn’t want him. I was drunk and stupid and—” I trailed off.

He looked at me in disbelief, but took a moment to respond. “I’m more upset you didn’t tell me. I wouldn’t have cared—well, I would have cared, but I could have gotten over it if you had told me. But you decided it was a death sentence without giving me the chance to make my own decision and then told the whole world about it instead.”

“I—Megan told me I couldn’t—after Justin—”

“And that was why we couldn’t be together? If Megan told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?”

“Probably, yes.”

“Fine,” he said, steering me toward the center of the dance floor. “Let’s ask her.”

“If I should jump off a bridge?” He fixed me with a withering look.

When we reached the newlyweds, Megan had her cheek against Tim’s, but Alex got us close enough for her to hear. He called her name and she opened her eyes. “Can I date Lily?”

“Do you want to?” she asked. Tim turned to look at us.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just asking if you care.”

“It’s your funeral,” she said with a shrug.

I gave her a dirty look. She smiled wickedly and blew me a kiss, then pressed her cheek back to Tim’s.

We made our way back to the edge of the dance floor. “See why it’s not smart to make assumptions about how other people are going to react?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you—I should have told you so much earlier and let you decide if you still liked me.”

“When did it happen?”

“What?”

“When did you sleep with him?”

“Why? What does it matter now?”

“Do you want me to try to move past this?”

With all my heart, I thought. “Yes.”

“Then I get to know when it happened so I can decide if I can actually get past it or not. If it was the night of Amy’s party, I’m out of here.”

“You can’t think that I—from you to him?”

His face was still stony. “You tell me.”

I looked into his eyes plaintively, but he wasn’t budging. “I don’t even remember it,” I confessed finally. “It was the night of Megan and Tim’s engagement party, and I had just gotten the call from my sister that she was engaged too, and I got so drunk and I—well, the next thing I remember was waking up in the hotel room next to him.”

Alex dropped his hand from my waist and stepped back. He stared at me in disbelief. “It was before I really knew you,” I said. “But that’s why I couldn’t do that to Megan even though I wanted to—when you kissed me that night, I—I think I knew all along how I felt, but I didn’t want to admit it because I couldn’t do that after—after—”

“This isn’t happening.”

“I know you said you tried to keep him away from me that night, but I don’t remember. And I know it doesn’t speak well of me that I would get that drunk and do that with him—”

“You didn’t.”

“I—what?”

He started to respond and then it was too much for him. He doubled over, hands on his thighs, laughing too hard to speak. When he finally caught his breath, he put an arm back around my waist, pulling me in close.

“You didn’t sleep with Justin, you fool.”

“What do you mean?”

“You stole my shirt.”

“I—what? No. Justin said it was him at the housewarming.” I pulled back, not understanding.

“Really? What did he say?”

“He—he said I owed him—for skipping out without saying goodbye—”

“You skipped out without saying goodbye when you came up to me and begged me to keep him away from you.”

“But—he said I owed him for the shirt.”

“You spilled a glass of red wine all over him.”

“I—what?”

“Lily, he was all over you. You were clearly drunk and I asked if you were okay. You said you were too drunk to drive home and he wouldn’t leave you alone. You really don’t remember any of this?”

Now that he was saying it, I could picture the arm that I was leaning on at the hotel’s check-in desk as being attached to Alex. “You got us a room,” I said quietly.

“I offered to drive you home, but you said you couldn’t leave your car. And you were wasted and not making a whole lot of sense.”

I held a hand to my face. “Does that mean I—that we—?”