“It’s fine. It’s just a little infection. You know, from the kidnapping. Doctor says it should be cleared up soon,” he tells me as his cheeks redden in embarrassment. “I just—”
Ariel steps out from behind me, making him choke on his words. His nasty eyes widen in shock.
While he coughs and sputters and smacks his fist against his chest, I smile at Ariel, then look back at Brian while he gets himself under control.
“Brian, let me introduce you to . . . oh, wait. You already know who this is, since you fucked her behind my back,” I tell him with a sweet smile.
“Worst lay of my life,” Ariel mutters, holding up her pinky finger and wiggling it. “How’s it hanging, Tiny Dick?”
I hold my champagne flute out to the side and Ariel clinks hers against it, and we both take a sip.
“I don’t . . . I’m . . . I thought we could go somewhere quiet and talk,” he mumbles, stuttering over his words, his mind probably on the verge of exploding seeing Ariel and I together, knowing that one of his dirty little secrets didn’t stay a secret for very long.
“Holy shit, your eyes look disgusting,” Ariel tells him.
“It’s just a simple eye infection!” Brian shouts, quickly clamping his mouth closed as he looks around nervously at the people standing by the bar, hanging on our every word.
“Hi, guys, what did I miss?” Belle asks, coming up to us. I take a minute to appreciate her beautiful, light-yellow gown, which is very conservative and something I would have worn a year ago.
I introduce her to Brian. “Belle, this is the douchebag. Douchebag, this is Belle.”
She smiles politely at him, holding out her hand and then quickly snatching it back when she sees his face.
“That’s chlamydia. Oh my God, you have eye chlamydia! See, I told you it wasn’t an urban legend!” Belle says excitedly, pointing at Brian’s eyes.
Ariel and I narrow our eyes and crane our necks, looking closer at Brian’s eyes as he tries to shield them with his hands.
“Holy shit, you’re right. That’s totally eye chlamydia. You’re the guy who let a stripper piss on his face in Thailand!” Ariel shouts excitedly.
“Will you please keep your voice down!” Brian whispers loudly, still looking around nervously at all the people who have now gathered around us. “I was in Mexico being held against my will, remember?”
He clears his throat uneasily a few times.
“Please, can we go somewhere private and talk?” he begs.
He reaches for my arm, and I yank it away.
“Whatever you have to say to me, you can do it right here. I’m not going anywhere with you,” I tell him.
He lets out an annoyed breath, nervously fiddling with the bow tie on his tuxedo. I used to think it was adorable that he insisted on wearing a bow tie and cummerbund to all of the events we went to, but now he just looks like an idiot. Like a thirty-six-year-old man-child who went through a midlife crisis and screwed over his own family.
“Can I help you?” Brian asks in irritation, looking over at Ariel and Belle, who still stand right next to me, staring at us.
“Oh, no. I’m good. Carry on,” Ariel tells him with a smile, taking another sip of her champagne.
“I’m good too. This is fascinating,” Belle adds.
Brian rolls his eyes and takes a step closer to me, lowering his voice.
“Look, I don’t want to fight. I just want a chance to talk to you more, but you’ve been very short with me on the phone and have refused to meet with me,” he pleads.
“You have thirty seconds.”
“Cynthia,” he complains.
“I gave you thirteen years and you walked out, leaving me with nothing while also making me lie to people about where you were and what you did. You’re lucky I’m even giving you that right now. Speak. And make it quick.”
He purses his lips and huffs in annoyance while I hand my champagne glass off to Ariel, cross my arms in front of me, and look pointedly look down at the silver watch on my wrist.
“Twenty seconds,” I remind him, tapping my toe against the marble floor.
“Fine. I just want to apologize again and make sure you know I’m serious. I’m sorry about everything. I made a mistake, but I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.”
A small giggle bubbles up from my throat, and it quickly turns into full-blown hilarity as I toss my head back and laugh. I laugh so hard that tears pool in my eyes, and I swipe them away as my laughter dies with a little snort. I cock my head to the side as I stare at the dumbass in front of me.
“Which mistake are you referring to exactly? Screwing our neighbor, lying to her and giving her some sob story about how you were brokenhearted and we were separated, and taking advantage of her? Fucking our babysitter? Running away with said babysitter to another country? Stealing money from your parents and letting me take the blame? Ignoring your daughter? Leaving us with nothing until I had to sell everything out from under me just to pay the mortgage? Tell me, Brian. Which mistake are you sorry for?”