Steph suddenly freezes. She yanks on my hand, and I have this moment of panic that I’m going to have to explain to her why my thoughts temporarily shifted to my ex-wife. I need those moments. Moments where I can analyze what I’m honestly thinking and feeling, and moments where I can change, if necessary, learn from, and grow. I’m a little bit afraid that I’m going to have to explain myself, but then I realize Steph can’t possibly read my mind, and even if she could, she wouldn’t be pissed. She’d think introspection is a good thing.
So there’s another reason she stopped so abruptly that her slight weight nearly pulled me right off my feet, why her hand is gripping mine in a death grip, and why I can literally hear her swallow and feel her heartbeat drumming at an irregular rate against my fingers.
She’s fixated to something in the distance. Something not too far away.
Of course.
I’d forgotten all about the reason I came here in the first place.
Ex-Stephanie.
More specifically, Ex-Stephanie and her new, much younger, personal trainer boyfriend.
The notion of proving myself to her, proving I’m not who she said I was, proving I’ve moved on, proving I’m something and someone, a person with actual feelings, not this object s
he could use and abuse as she saw fit, how did I ever think that mattered?
At the moment, I really wish I had time machine socks.
It’s like Ex-Stephanie has a sixth sense because her head perks up like a freaking bloodhound, and she looks in our direction. She freezes—both her and the fit wall of muscle walking behind her. Yes, behind her. Because no one walks beside my ex-wife, and I seriously can’t remember ever holding her hand, ever wrapping an arm around her shoulders, or ever having a real moment of intimacy.
Of course, she can’t just walk the other direction and pretend like she didn’t see us and pass this off as some strange coincidence. Of course, she has to powerwalk straight over to us like her very existence and place in the universe depends on it. A few beads of sweat start trickling from my neck down my back, and I feel soaked all over. I feel sweaty and sick. This is not going to be good.
She looks expensive, which isn’t the same as looking good. I remember a time when I thought she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. Now, I’m not exactly sure why. There really isn’t anything beautiful about my ex-wife, and not just because she’s a bit older now. She’s just so artificial-looking. Her clothes are designer, and even her runners are designer. Her hair is bleached blonde, and I can tell she has extensions in. She’s wearing enough makeup to go out clubbing, plus she’s wearing a tight-fitting dress that matches. The first thing I notice is the low cut. The second thing is that she’s had breast augmentation surgery, or maybe she bought a very, very good bra, but I doubt it. They don’t look very natural, and I mean, I guess I would know.
I can feel myself flushing as my eyes slowly travel up to her face, and her fitness boyfriend is giving me a death glare for checking out his girlfriend’s breasts. I want to assure him it was a mistake, a casual observance because they’re very, uh, out there, and honestly nothing more. And then admit to a huge amount of shame, because I honestly feel it—about all of this.
“There’s no way.” Ex-Stephanie shakes her head, and her nearly white blonde hair dances around her face. Her lips are thick, too thick. Like she might have enhanced them too. “There’s no way you’re just here. You knew I was here! Someone tipped you off. You couldn’t just leave me alone, could you?”
“That’s not true, and it’s not why we’re here.”
Ex-Stephanie’s eyes considerably widen when she takes a second look at Steph, whose hand is still in mine, and who is tucked next to my side. She looks between us, looks at me, back at Steph, back at me, then back at Steph. Her face has literally too much makeup to give away much emotion, but I can see the red creeping up her neck.
“We’re just camping,” Steph cuts in. “That’s it.”
She sounds intimidated, a little afraid, and slightly embarrassed. Neither of us wanted to run into my ex-wife, not now. Steph obviously didn’t want to at the beginning. She thought this whole thing was stupid and tried to convince me not to do it. To be normal, to give it up, and to be a better person if for no one other than myself.
I feel terrible for getting her involved in this, for subjecting her to this. I try to steer her away, but Ex-Stephanie lets out a little shriek and a huff. “That’s it? You’re just going to walk away? Oh no. Not like that. Not until you confess to it. I know you’re here because of me. There’s no way you’d show up in the same campground and do something like camp because you enjoy it. We both know you don’t, and we both know you don’t have the skills for it. We both know you’re pathetic.”
“I…” Fitness Dude tries to say something, but Ex-Stephanie snaps her fingers in his face like he’s a trained dog.
“I’m not finished, Brian,” she hisses. Not unlike the snake that tried to kill me. This might kill me, too, in so many ways. I can see she’s winding up, and I’d like nothing more than to grab Steph and get far away. Run, if we have to.
Run from the toxicity and from the explosion that’s probably coming. Just run because I’m not running from something, but because I’m choosing to run toward something else. Something I should have figured out and chosen a long time ago.
Unfortunately, Ex-Stephanie isn’t done, and there isn’t any escape. All I can do is dig in, try and protect Steph the best I can, and hope we can withstand the shit storm that’s about to come pouring down all over us.
CHAPTER 19
Stephanie
“So what? You just thought you’d show up here and try to make me jealous? Make me see what I’m missing and what she gets? Your assistant?” Ex-Stephanie’s whole face contorts like a puckered-up asshole, and she snorts. “Don’t you know how cliché that is? Banging your secretary?”
“It’s pretty cliché too that you’re going out with your personal trainer over there,” I point out blandly, but inside, I’m screaming something along the lines of fml, I knew she was going to point it out, and now it’s actually true.
“Hey,” Brian cuts in. Stephanie holds up her hand and snaps her fingers at him. Again. He closes his mouth and shuts up. Again.
“Yeah, Chad, I don’t think you have anything that’s going to help her case.”