“Then why do I still feel so terrible every time I look at him?”
“Who?”
“Richard.” I watch her lips press together, then lower my eyes to the napkin I’m now tearing into pieces. “He doesn’t know anything. Not even about this new friendship I have,” I confess. “I didn’t tell anybody what happened that weekend until just now, and really, the only reason why I’m telling you is because I thought maybe if I told someone I’d stop thinking about it so much. I need to stop thinking about it.”
I need to forget. Why can’t I forget?
“You’re thinking about it a lot?” she asks, drawing my gaze up again.
“Constantly.”
“Constantly? Even,” her eyes go round, “you know . . .”
I shake my head. “We haven’t really done much of that lately,” I admit. “Not since before Richard got fired. Things are just . . . off. I don’t know. But other times? Yes. I’m thinking about it.” My shoulders slouch. I sink lower onto my stool. “I try not to. I do, but they’re just so different. Everything is different. Even their hands.” I look down at my own, opening and closing them around the napkin. “I can’t get over how different their hands are,” I murmur.
Rough versus rougher. Richard has hands like he works outside but CJ has hands like he lives outside and has his entire life, built shelter for himself and kills what he eats. His fingers are longer and thicker and his palms are wider. But even if they weren’t, he still touches differently.
I can’t get over that most of all.
“Well,” Beth begins. “I’m sure that’s normal.”
I snap my head up. “Fantasizing about a man who isn’t your boyfriend is normal? For who?”
“I just mean having him on your mind still,” she immediately clears up. “It just happened. I think as time goes on, you’ll think about CJ less and less.” She pauses, shrugging. “If that’s what you want.”
Our gazes lock, and I think she hears what I’m not saying and reads my worry.
I know I hear it—the words circling in my head and stabbing at my heart.
Is it what I want?
“Maybe you feel terrible because you made the wrong choice,” she suggests delicately.
I shake my head and return to shredding the napkin.
No. I made the right choice. I know I did.
Didn’t I?
Beth places her hand on top of one of mine. I blink up at her. “You’re not a horrible person, Riley.” Her voice is warm and sweet and full of honesty. Nothing else. “I think anyone would’ve done what you did knowing what you knew to be true. Really. I believe that.”
“What about me wanting to be friends with CJ?” I ask. “Do you think I’m horrible for wanting that? For wanting something with him?”
She smiles softly. “No,” she answers, giving my hand a squeeze. “I don’t. CJ is a great guy. Really great. It’s pretty impossible not to like him and want to be his friend.”
“Unless you’re Reed and find out your friend had sex with your sister.”
Beth pulls in a sharp breath through her nose, blinking with wide eyes. “Yeah, I don’t think he should find out about this,” she suggests, pulling her hand away. “Maybe not ever. I don’t know how Reed would take that.”
“Right? No way. I’m not telling him. And I made CJ swear he won’t say anything.”
“What about Richard? Are you two—”
My eyes double in size. “I’m not telling him either! Are you nuts?”
“That’s not what I was going to ask,” she argues, scooping up the pieces of shredded napkin off the bar and disposing of them into the receptacle she’s next to. “You already told me you weren’t telling him, and I get that too.”
“Oh.” I bite my lip, handing over the remaining bits of napkin I’m clutching when she holds her hand out. “You do? Really?”
“Really.”
I release a slow breath while Beth tosses out my mess.
“I just don’t want to hurt Richard, you know?” I say. “I never meant for it to happen.”
“I know. That’s why I get it.” Beth motions at a guy at the end of the bar who calls out for a refill, signaling for him to hold on. Then she looks at me. Her eyes are tender. “I just want to make sure you’re happy with Richard. That this is really what you want.”
“It is,” I quickly answer, following her eyes to my phone and then meeting them when she lifts her gaze. “Really. I’m happy with him. Right now it’s just hard with him struggling to find a job, but as soon as he finds one we’ll be happy like we were. So happy. I just know it.”
I know it.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she says, smiling a little. “And I’m sure he’ll find a job soon.”
“Yeah.” I smile back, mine as weak as hers.
We stare at each other while silence lingers, that uncomfortable silence filled with unspoken words and unshared fears, and when I can’t take it anymore I check the time on my phone.
“I gotta go. We have that concert tonight. The Killers. Richard bought us tickets a few months back.” I stand from my stool and slip my phone away.
“Oh, that’s right. Hey.” Beth reaches into the front pocket of her apron and pulls out some cash. She holds it over the bar. “Can you get me a shirt? I don’t have one of theirs.”
I wave off her offer. “I got it. You know, since we’re family now.”
She grins, laughing lightly. “You just love saying that, don’t you?” she says, bringing back my words from earlier as she tucks her money away.
“Maybe a little,” I reply. “I’ll give it to you on Sunday. Sound good?”
“Yep.”
“And thanks for listening. Really. I’m so glad I have you to talk to about stuff like this. About everything.”
“Anytime, little sis,” she says, amusement in her voice as she makes her way to the man waiting on his refill. She lifts her hand and waves.
I wave back, doing this grinning because I have a sister now and she’s awesome, and also because she gets what I’m doing. She understands.
Meaning I’m doing the right thing.