Ethan never talks about Polly. It’s only by chance, when Ethan got drunk one night and droned on and on about what a terrible woman she was, that I even knew his ex’s name. I open my mouth, not sure what to say, when a hand suddenly lands on Ethan’s shoulder.
“Grant, Ethan,” Alex Howard greets, looking pleased. “Good to see you both.”
I can’t help but grin. It’s been some time since I last saw Alex. He’s been extremely busy lately, though he’s been cagey every time someone asks what he’s up to.
“Alex!” Ethan exclaims. “Sit down, man! How have you been?”
“Not too bad,” Alex says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I don’t want to interrupt; the two of you look like you were having a serious conversation.”
Ethan and I glance at each other.
“Do you remember Jessica?” I ask Alex.
Something odd crosses Alex’s face at the mention of my ex. I don’t really recognize the expression, and it’s gone before I can look too closely.
“Yes,” he says shortly.
“She’s back,” Ethan tells him. “Not only that, but…”
He glances at me, and I grimace. I’m not going to keep it a secret, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to tell anyone else yet. Too late now, unfortunately.
“She had a kid,” I tell Alex. “Turns out, it was my kid. He’s three, now. I only found out yesterday.”
“Wait… What?” Alex asks. He sits heavily in the spare chair, looking taken aback by the information. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as can be,” I say grimly.
“It’s fucking shit, that’s what it is,” Ethan adds.
“But that’s…” Alex shakes. “I can’t believe it.”
I look up, caught by the sudden anger in his voice. I’m grateful that he’s angry on my behalf, but it feels like there’s something more to his fury. His lips are white with how hard he’s pressing them together, and I see him lower his hands, which he’s clenched into white-knuckled fists, beneath the table.
“Yeah,” I say, wondering what’s going on.
Suddenly, Alex looks at me. The look in his eyes are intent, and that expression flits across his face, still too fast to catch.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
He could easily be saying that he’s sorry I have to go through something like this. But the way he says it, his voice low and intense, makes it feel like there’s something more to it.
But what?
“I better go,” he says, standing before I can question him.
He’s gone as swiftly as he arrived, disappearing into the ground. Ethan snorts as I stare at his retreating back.
“He really hates injustice,” he says.
Is that all it is? Somehow, I’m not sure. Something doesn’t feel right.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “He does.”
Chapter Eleven
; Jessica