Joey sighed. Chris must know a shortcut back to the cabin. She didn’t want to talk to him yet, but she couldn’t keep him out of the cabin. He’d left some stuff in the bathroom. And now that she’d blown off a little steam she could probably talk to him without yelling or crying. Or if not talk to him at least she should give him his toothbrush back.
She took a deep breath, wiped the tears off her face and opened the door.
Joey’s heart dropped down her body, into the floor and landed at the center of the earth.
“Hey, Jo.”
She couldn’t believe her eyes. She didn’t want to believe them. But she had to believe them because there he was, right there, right on the porch of the cabin.
Joey lifted her chin and met Ben’s eyes.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
12
“NICE WAY TO say hi,” Ben said.
“That’s exactly what you said to me when I came to visit you.
Word for word.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Can I come in?”
“No, you can’t come in. How the hell did you even find me, anyway?” She could not believe he was here. Ben. Here. In the forest. On the mountain. In Oregon. He looked so out of place she would laugh if she didn’t want to cry and scream so much. He had on a suit. A business suit and a long, khaki-colored Burberry coat with a jaunty red scarf around his neck. Did he buy all that stuff just for this one trip to the Pacific Northwest? Probably, knowing him.
“You told me you were staying at your parents’ old cabin. It’s not that hard to look up addresses and deeds online.”
“Stalker.”
“Jesus, Jo, we practically lived together two years. I called five times a day. You never answered any calls, any texts. I have no idea how you are, what you’re doing. You could have at least texted me back.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I should do. Ever. I don’t even know why you’re here. I didn’t invite you.”
“Can we not talk for five minutes?”
Joey pulled her phone out of her back pocket, opened the alarm app and started the stopwatch.
“Five minutes,” she said, holding up her phone to show him the quickly passing numbers. “Go.”
“You’re in a bad mood.”
“That’s a great way to use up four seconds of your time.”
“Shit, fine. Okay.” He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed black hair and looked around the porch as if seeking help or inspiration. “I don’t know where to start.”
“You can start by telling me why you didn’t tell me you were married,” she said. “You are married, right? That was your wife? She had a wedding ring on and she called you her husband. But I admit she could have been delusional and/or hallucinating. Stranger things have happened.”
“She is my wife, yes. I’m married, yes. I didn’t tell you because...”
“I’m waiting.”
“Look, Shannon and I have an open marriage. We have for a long time.”
“Good for you both. But I don’t.”
“You aren’t married.”
“I don’t have an open anything,” she said. “I don’t do open relationships.”