Читать книгу Some Kind of Wonderful - Sarah Morgan - Страница 11

“I SHOULD HAVE warned you.” Emily hauled Brittany’s suitcase into the cottage, maneuvering it over the blue-and-white-striped rug that welcomed visitors to the beach hideaway. The colors had faded over the years but the familiarity of it was as soothing as hot soup on a cold day.

“How could you have warned me?”

“Sky and I saw him a few weeks ago. We decided as you weren’t here you didn’t need to know. We assumed he’d be long gone before you came home. If you hadn’t broken your wrist, you wouldn’t have known.”

“Don’t you believe it. This is Puffin Island. I would have heard about it the moment I stepped off the ferry. There are no secrets in this place. Although somehow I missed the fact you’ve moved out of the cottage. Tell me the details.”

“Later. Let’s unload the car first.”

Brittany walked through to the kitchen. The sun flooded in from the garden, bouncing light across the room. For a moment she saw her grandmother, standing in front of the stove, humming as she stirred and tasted.

One blink and the image vanished, but the ache in her chest remained.

Everything looked the same. The jars of brightly colored sea glass collected on trips to the beach, the hurricane lamp and strangely shaped piece of driftwood Brittany had found washed up on the shore as a child. Everything was as it should be, each piece part of the jigsaw that created a picture of her childhood.

The only gap was the one left by her grandmother.

She missed her all the time, but never more so than now. He’s back, Grams, and I don’t know what to do.

Emily followed her into the room. “I put your case in the bedroom. It weighs a ton. Please tell me it’s not full of Bronze Age weapons.”

“That case contains my life. A bit sad that I can cram it all into one suitcase.” But she knew her grandmother wouldn’t have agreed. People, experiences, those are the things of real value, Brittany.

She slumped on the kitchen chair, exhausted from the journey and the stress of keeping up the pretense of indifference in front of Zach. The worst thing was that she didn’t want it to be pretense. She wanted to feel indifference and it worried her that she didn’t.

How could seeing a man who had walked out on her without a backward glance make her feel weak at the knees? “Do you know what’s crazy about all this? I’m over him. I really am. I know people say that, but I mean it. So why am I feeling like this?” She ran her hand over her face and Emily walked across and gave her a hug.

“Anyone would be unsettled to meet their ex after such a long time, especially after the relationship ended the way yours did. And on top of that you’re jet-lagged and in pain. What you’re feeling is totally normal. Don’t overthink it, Brittany.”

“I’m not.” It was a lie and both of them knew it. “My relationship with him was the one big failure of my life and I hate failing. Seeing him back here is like finding someone spray painted ‘you screwed up’ on a wall.”

“If you’d given us more notice we could have killed him and hidden his body before you arrived home.”

“How did you even recognize him? You never met him.”

“The first thing you did when you arrived at college was stick a picture of him on your wall and ask us to decorate it.”

“I remember. I met my two best friends because of him. I suppose I should be grateful.”

“I was responsible for the warts on his nose. The three of us stared at his face every night for three months. Skylar gave him a skin condition with her paints and you pushed pins into him. By the time you stopped crying yourself to sleep he had multiple piercings that weren’t of his choosing. It was kind of a shock to come face-to-face with him and not see a face riddled full of holes. And it’s a memorable face. Not hard to see why you fell for him.”

“Take a good look. His face won’t be so memorable once I’ve rearranged those perfect features. It’s amazing how much damage a girl can do with a plaster cast.” Brittany closed her eyes briefly, trying to calm the pool of emotion simmering inside her, but even with her eyes shut all she saw were strong features and dark masculinity. “Thanks for the ride. I should have called a cab but I couldn’t face handling the questions Pete would throw at me. Did I drag you away from something important?”

“No. And whatever I was doing would have been less important than meeting my best friend at the airport after a long flight. Wait there.” Emily vanished to the car and returned moments later with her arms loaded up with bags. “I stocked up at the store after I got your text. I assumed you wouldn’t have anything in so I bought the basics.”

“As long as the basics include soda, I’m happy.” Brittany eyed the bags gratefully, hoping they were full of food that didn’t require two hands to prepare. “You’re a friend in a million.”

“So are you.” Emily piled the bags on the table. “I can’t ever repay you for letting me use this place. You saved me. And Lizzy. We owe you so much.”

“You don’t owe me anything. And talking of friends, I’m guessing Ryan knows Zach is back?”

“Yes.” Emily pushed milk and cheese into the fridge. “Like I said, you weren’t here and it’s not as if Zach has a habit of sticking around.”

“You’re talking to the woman he married and then left less than two weeks after so I know exactly how long he generally sticks around.” It annoyed her that she felt so unsettled. So what if he was back? She’d hurt and healed. It was in the past. And although the past fascinated her so much she’d made it her career, that fascination didn’t extend to her own history.

“Are you mad with us for not telling you?”

“I’m so churned up inside I don’t know what I’m feeling.” Brittany sighed and shook her head. “No, of course I’m not mad. In your position I wouldn’t have told me, either.”

“It seemed like the right decision at the time, but it seems like the wrong one now.”

“Yeah, well, I know all about that, too. I married Zach thinking it was the right decision and look how that turned out.”

Emily was still unloading food. “Did you eat on the flight? I can cook you something. I bought eggs, and a fresh loaf from the bakery.”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” She felt as if her stomach was doing gymnastics.

“You have to eat something.” Emily handed her a bag. “Here. Blueberry muffins I baked fresh this morning.”

“Seriously?” Brittany peered into the bag and sniffed. “Since when do you cook?”

“Since I inherited a six-year-old girl. I have also learned to braid hair, make pasta necklaces and fix torn fairy wings. And before you accuse me of gender bias, I should tell you I’m also skilled at making pirate maps complete with tea stains and authentically burned edges, and last weekend I bought her a bow and arrow. A child’s version, obviously.”

Brittany felt a flash of guilt. “I haven’t even asked how you’re both doing. Your life went to hell and I wasn’t here and now I am here I’m talking about myself. I’m the most selfish friend in the world. Skylar updated me on your recent crisis. The journalist? Bastard. Why would they go after a child?”

“Because the whereabouts of the daughter of a dead movie star are apparently of public interest.”

Brittany nibbled the corner of the muffin. “So they came here and tried to trick the islanders into revealing information.”

“Which they didn’t, of course, because the islanders were amazing. Ryan was amazing.” Emily’s cheeks turned a deep shade of rose and Brittany looked at her closely.

“I can’t believe you’re saying that. The first night you arrived you left me a message saying you were on the first ferry out of here. You were threatening to head somewhere landlocked like Wyoming or Nebraska. I know you hate the sea. What happened?”

“I didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”

“There’s something different about you.”

“This red shirt is new. Sky chose it.”

“It’s flattering. Better than your usual black. But that’s not what I’m seeing. You mentioned you had something to tell me. So tell me.”

“Today is about you, not me.”

“I need to be distracted from the pain in my wrist and my compelling need to kill my ex. Talk. And I want detail, including the brilliant sex I’m fairly sure you’re getting.”

Emily gave a choked laugh. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re glowing and happy. You’ve lost that white, pinched look you always had when you were with miserable Neil. I didn’t see it immediately, mostly because I was focused on escaping from Zach, but you’ve changed.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s just a shirt.”

“I’m not talking about the shirt. Your hair is different. A little shorter and you’re wearing it loose.”

“There’s a new hairdresser up at the harbor. Her name is Hanna. Lisa and I wanted to give her some business, that’s all.”

“She’s good. Maybe I’ll book myself in. I believe in supporting new businesses on the island.” Brittany studied her friend. “You look happy. I’m relieved. I was worried. I felt helpless being so far away when you were going through hell. And Sky was stuck in Manhattan with the soon-to-be senator who suffered a sense-of-humor failure at birth. I didn’t know what to do, so I called Ryan.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“I didn’t give him details, just asked him to keep an eye on you.” Contemplating her friend’s dreamy expression, Brittany laughed. “I’m guessing he kept a very, very close eye on you. Next time I need to be more specific in my brief. I asked him to support you, not seduce you. Not that there’s anything wrong with comfort sex and I’m sure Ryan was very good at that side of things.”

Emily placed fruit in the bowl in the center of the table. “It’s a bit more than comfort sex.”

“How much more?”

“We like each other.”

“Of course. You went to bed with him. You’d never go to bed with a man you didn’t like.”

“Love.” Emily stumbled over the word. “I love him. He loves me. And if there was a seduction, it was mutual.”

Brittany hid her surprise. “Love terrifies you.” And she understood why. She, like Skylar, knew all of Emily’s secrets. “It always has.”

“Yes. But that was before Ryan.”

“Well—wow.” Brittany felt warmth burn out the chill inside her. Love wasn’t something that had worked out for her, nor had it worked out for her parents, but it was great seeing it work out for her friends, especially Emily who had avoided that emotion since childhood. “Seems like we have a lot of catching up to do. We should invite Sky for the weekend. Bottle of chilled wine, pajamas and full confessions all round. It will be just like old times.”

“Sounds good.”

Brittany watched as her friend pushed her hair back—hair she’d habitually worn secured to the back of her head but which now swung loose around her shoulders. “So is Ryan the reason you’re no longer living in my cottage?”

“He asked us to move in with him. We’re living in Harbor House.”

“His old family home? I love that place. The high ceilings, the views—it’s incredible. So this isn’t just love, it’s serious.” She caught sight of the ring on Emily’s finger for the first time and gasped. “Is that—? Holy crap, Em. How could I not have noticed that? And why didn’t you wave it under my nose?”

“Because you have enough to think about and anyway, it’s all been very sudden—”

“But if you know, then why wait, right?” She grabbed Emily’s hand and took a closer look and felt her eyes fill. “Em, oh, Em!” She hugged her friend with her good arm and felt tears spill onto her cheeks. “I’m so happy for you both. Two of my favorite people getting married and to each other! I expect to be invited every Thanksgiving and Christmas. This calls for a major celebration.”

“I wasn’t going to mention it yet. I thought it might be tactless with Zach back on the island.”

“Just because my own love life is in a coma and I’m tripping over my ex, doesn’t mean I can’t be thrilled for my friend. And I am thrilled.” She released Emily and wiped her hand over her cheek. “Look at me. I’m a sentimental mess. Where did he find that ring?”

“We went to Boston for the weekend.”

Examining the glittering stone, Brittany felt something stir inside her. Zach hadn’t given her a ring. At the time she hadn’t cared. Their impulsive wedding had seemed the ultimate in romantic gestures and she’d told herself that Zachary Flynn wasn’t the sort of man to buy a girl a diamond. It had taken her a while to realize it was just another sign that he couldn’t be tamed. She’d tried to create a bond with a man who didn’t understand the meaning of the word.

Letting go of Emily’s hand, she reminded herself that a diamond wouldn’t have sealed a relationship that was already cracked beyond repair.

“So if you’ve moved into Harbor House, where is Ryan’s grandmother living?” Agnes Cooper had been her grandmother’s closest friend. “Much as I love her, having her as a housemate would be seriously restrictive. No spontaneous sex on the kitchen table.”

“Agnes has already moved into one of the retirement cottages.”

“Leaving you free to have sex anywhere you like. Well—” Pondering, Brittany sat back in her chair and picked up her soda. “Everything changes. I turn my back for five minutes and my childless, water-hating friend has a child and is living by the water. And in love.”

“Not just living by the water. I’ve learned to swim.”

Knowing her friend’s phobia of the water and the reasons for it, Brittany choked on her drink. “You went into the water voluntarily?”

“Ryan taught me. I don’t love it, but I don’t panic. And talking of panic—” Emily helped herself to a tiny piece of muffin. “You didn’t know Zach would be flying you today?”

“No. The whole thing was arranged by a friend.” Brittany lowered her drink. “Do we know why he’s here?”

“Zach? No. Ryan hadn’t heard from him in a while and then suddenly he showed up at the Ocean Club a couple of months ago. He owns his own plane and he hires himself out for megabucks which, Ryan says, basically means he gets paid a year’s salary for doing a week’s work.”

“Sounds like Zach.”

Emily hesitated. “He isn’t entirely mercenary. When Lizzy was sick and needed to go to the hospital on the mainland, he was the one who flew me. No one else would do it because the weather was so wild. It was scary and he was—”

“Reckless?”

“I was going to say brave. And skilled.” Emily sent her an awkward glance. “I felt disloyal getting in the plane with him.”

“No need. It was a long time ago. I don’t have any feelings for him.” At least, none she was going to admit to. “And if Lizzy was sick, he should have flown you for free.”

“He did.”

“Oh.” That news jarred with the negative images she was nurturing in her mind. “Well, that’s—great. Doesn’t sound like Zach, but I still think it’s great.”

“I guess he charges so much the rest of the time he can afford to be generous occasionally.”

“The second part of that sentence doesn’t sound like him at all.”

The Zach she’d known hadn’t wanted to give anything to a society who had given him nothing.

“I’ve heard that sometimes he’ll fly for Maine Island Air if they’re overbooked. That’s why he flew Sky that day. It depends on his mood.”

“Now that does sound like him. A moody opportunist.” Keeping her voice casual, Brittany stood up. “I’m grateful for the ride, but now you need to get back to Ryan and Lizzy.” And stop talking about Zach.

“I’ll stay and help. It isn’t going to be easy with your wrist in a cast.”

“No. I want you to go and have wild monkey sex and make up for all those years you were stuck with boring Neil.”

“I’m getting that you didn’t like Neil.”

“He wasn’t right for you.” Brittany started to help Emily unpack the last of the shopping, but with one hand it wasn’t easy. “Let me pay you. My wallet is in my backpack.” She glanced across the bags towards her case. “Must still be in your car.”

“I don’t want your money, but I don’t think your backpack is in my car. Are you sure you brought it with you?”

“I had it with me on the flight over. I was so damn desperate to get away from Zach I must have left it on the plane. Crap. It has everything. My passport and my purse. Which means I have no money.” Annoyed, Brittany paced across the kitchen. “How could I have been so careless?”

“You’re tired, in pain and you met your ex-husband for the first time in years. I’d say you had reason to be distracted. I’ll fetch it.”

“You’ve done enough. I’ll sort it out tomorrow.”

“What if he brings it over?”

The thought unnerved her more than she wanted it to. “He won’t. He’ll probably hand the bag to Ryan.”

“How did he react when he saw you were his passenger?”

“He didn’t, but Zach isn’t exactly big on showing his feelings.” And she’d wanted him to. Once upon a time, she’d wanted him to say those three little words. How many nights had she spent waiting, hoping? “Probably because he didn’t feel anything.”

“I don’t believe that.” Emily looked worried. “I don’t want to leave you on your own.”

“I’m fine.” Her smile was bright, swift and totally false. “It was a bit of a shock seeing him, but only because I haven’t thought about Zachary Flynn in years. Hearts heal. Bruised feelings heal. And in a way he did me a favor.”

“You mean by making your first time unforgettable?”

Brittany felt her whole body heat. “No, I do not mean that. I mean by walking out on me, leaving me free to take up my college place. Can you imagine what my life would have been if he hadn’t left me? I wouldn’t have done any of the things I’ve done. Thanks for the lift, Em, but now I need to go to bed and sleep off that journey.”

Emily gave her a long look. “You’re not going to cry, are you?”

“Are you kidding? The only time I cry is when I’m peeling onions and I can’t do that one-handed.”

“In that case I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emily picked up her purse and her keys. “Ryan is treating Lizzy to breakfast at the Ocean Club. Ten o’clock. Join us?”

Her wrist throbbed and her head throbbed. Worse still was the way she felt inside. Wounds, long covered, lay exposed and smarting. She felt weak and vulnerable and she hated feeling that way. “I’ll be sleeping.”

Emily refused to budge. “You won’t. You’ll be waking up early and grumpy with jet lag. We’ll fix that with coffee. I’ll drive over here just before ten.”

“You don’t give up, do you?”

“I know you’re hurting and I’m not going to let you hurt alone. For now you need sleep, but on the weekend we’re going to talk about this. Things always seem better when the three of us are together.”

Friends. They laughed with you through the good times and hugged you during the bad. They cheered your successes and bandaged the wounds from falls.

Men came and went from her life, but her friends always had her back.

It made her feel better knowing that. “Thanks for the lift and the shopping. I’ll see you at breakfast, but I’ll walk. It will do me good. Now go back to your man and your child.”

“And my dog.”

“Dog? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

Emily smiled. “Agnes can’t cope with Cocoa so we’ve inherited her. Lizzy is thrilled.”

“Man, child, dog and swimming.” Brittany shook her head in disbelief. “I’ve been away too long.”

ZACH STROLLED INTO the busy bar of the Ocean Club and dumped the backpack on the seat next to Ryan, who was deep in conversation with Alec Hunter.

“Can you drop that off next time you’re passing?”

“Passing where?”

“Castaway Cottage.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Do I look like I work for FedEx? And since when does anyone ‘pass’ Castaway Cottage? The clue is in the name. It’s at the end of the road to nowhere.”

“You’ve been passing it often enough the last month so that you can have sex with the pretty blonde who moved in with the kid who looks like Goldilocks.”

“Has someone installed a webcam I don’t know about?”

Alec suppressed a yawn. “This is Puffin Island. The most secure place in the whole of the North America. If a caterpillar lifts its head, people can tell you how high. The reason we don’t have an island newspaper is because there is nothing anyone could write that the population don’t already know.” Pushing a beer towards Zach, he said, “Sit down. We bought you a drink in case you joined us.” After a moment’s hesitation, Zach slid into the vacant seat.

The summer after he’d turned sixteen, he hadn’t returned to Boston. Instead, Philip and Celia had taken him in with the approval of the authorities. For months, Zach had lived on a knife edge, waiting for them to tell him they’d made a mistake and that other plans had been made for him, but they never did. Instead of throwing him out, they’d given him a key to their home.

Carrying that key, he’d felt like a fake and a fraud. He knew a hundred different ways to break into a house. He didn’t need a key.

Philip had arranged for him to attend the local school and it was there he’d met Ryan.

His closest brush with happiness had been on the days he’d been sucked into Ryan’s noisy, disorganized family life.

“How’s Rachel? I saw her with Jared.”

“Who my little sister dates is her business.”

Zach eyed Ryan’s fingers, white on the bottle, and knew how hard he was struggling not to make it his business. Knowing that Ryan had all but raised his younger sister after the death of their parents, the protective streak didn’t surprise him.

“You could do her hair at the wedding.” Knowing that humor always worked better than sympathy, he went with that. “You always were good with bows and braids.”

Ryan shot him a black look. “She’s not marrying the guy.”

Alec stretched out his legs, a gleam of humor in his eyes. “So it’s just sex?”

Ryan cursed softly and ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Why do I feel this way? I’m not her father.”

“You care,” Alec said mildly, “and caring is the first step towards psychological trauma. Buckle up. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

And sometimes, Zach thought, it never got better.

Sometimes, the trauma was so great you learned how to stop caring.

Ryan drained his beer and looked at Zach. “So how did you end up with Brittany’s backpack?”

“She left it in my plane. Your blonde friend gave Brittany a lift home but they managed to leave the backpack.” And he’d stared at it for the best part of thirty minutes, weighing up his options, annoyed that he’d been so distracted by seeing her again he hadn’t noticed it. “She’s back.”

“Brittany? Yeah, I know. As you say, I’m having sex with the friend who gave her a lift whose name, by the way, is Emily. For the sake of accuracy I should tell you that her hair is more caramel than blond and we’ve never actually had sex in Castaway Cottage. Her choice, not mine.” Ryan jerked his head towards the beer. “Drink. Given that you just flew your ex-wife in, I’m guessing you’re going to need several of these. Or maybe something stronger.”

Something stronger sounded tempting, but Zach didn’t want to fight the crowd at the bar. “How do you know I flew her in?”

“Same reason you knew I was having sex with the woman living in her cottage. Nothing travels faster than gossip, especially when it’s juicy. And because I’m a man and have no tact or sensitivity, I’m going to ask the question everyone wants to ask. How hard did she punch you?”

Zach reached for the beer. “There was no physical contact.” He didn’t mention the solid thump in his gut that had come from seeing her again. “It was a civilized encounter.”

“Civilized?” Ryan’s brows rose. “That doesn’t sound like Brittany, especially since the last time she saw you was when you walked out days after your wedding.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

Knowing how protective the islanders were of Brittany and how suspicious they were of him, Zach hadn’t expected a warm welcome on his return to the island, but Ryan had immediately invited him for a drink at the Ocean Club, sending a clear message to the locals that whatever had happened in the past had no bearing on the present. “For that she didn’t black your eye? Are you sure you picked up the right passenger? Fierce brunette who once shot me in the butt with an arrow? I’ve got money on her taking a swing at you within five minutes of laying eyes on you.”

Zach gave a grim smile. “Pay up. Seems like she didn’t care enough to take a swing at me.”

But it was true he’d expected a greater response from her.

Guilt, an unfamiliar emotion, nagged at him like an old wound.

He’d broken hearts before, right along with rules and property, and it had never bothered him until Brittany.

Unlike everyone else he’d ever met in his life, she’d believed in him.

Turned out living up to someone’s expectations had been more of a pressure than living down to them. He knew he’d done her a favor by disappointing her sooner rather than later, but he should have found a less brutal way of doing it.

“Ten years is a long time,” Alec said easily. “You were both young. It’s history, long forgotten.”

Ryan finished his drink. “That’s a strange statement from someone who makes a living ensuring history isn’t forgotten.”

Alec Hunter, a naval historian, had carved out a successful career as a TV presenter and explorer. “That’s different. I’m talking about relationship history.”

“So am I.” Ryan shrugged. “In my experience women don’t forget. They nurture the mad and then produce it when you least expect it. Either way, you’re doomed, Zach.”

“She wasn’t mad,” Zach said flatly. “She was indifferent.”

She’d sat with casual poise, those endless legs bronzed from the Greek sun, her response to seeing him again approaching boredom.

Why should that bother him?

Alec finished his beer. “Last time I checked, archaeologists didn’t earn enough to fly private. How could she afford your services?”

Zach thought about the phone call from the Greek offices of ZervaCo. “Seems she’s keeping rich company these days.”

Ryan gestured across the bar for Tom to bring them more drinks. “You’re not exactly struggling yourself.”

“My bank account is healthy enough, although I’m a long way off from owning a Gulfstream.”

“Would you want to?”

“No.” Zach took a mouthful of beer. “It has to be landed on a strip of tarmac.”

“Whereas you’d rather land where no sane man would ever venture. So if the reunion was civilized, what’s stopping you from delivering the backpack yourself?”

Evading the question, Zach looked across the crowded bar and caught the eye of a young woman who’d been watching him since he’d walked in.

She gave him a shy smile and he immediately looked away.

All his relationships were short-term but he couldn’t contemplate even short-term while his ex-wife was jammed in his head.

And shy didn’t work for him. He made it a rule not to let himself touch anything breakable or vulnerable.

“I haven’t set foot in Castaway Cottage for over a decade.” Not since that day Kathleen Forrest had gone to the mainland with her knitting friends, leaving her granddaughter alone in the secluded house on the beach.

The first thing Brittany had done was phone Zach and invite him over.

He’d figured that if the good girl wanted to try her hand at being bad it wasn’t his business to talk her out of it.

Remembering what had happened next brought sweat to his forehead. It had been the beginning of a long vacation for his judgment.

He was doing better these days, but barely a day passed without him encountering someone who wanted to punch him for past offenses.

He’d assumed today was Brittany’s turn and no one, least of all himself, would argue that he didn’t deserve a hell of a punch for what he’d done to her.

He’d weighed that fact carefully before returning to the island, then decided that since she mostly spent her time traveling and had all the support of the islanders, he was the one who would suffer. Despite his relationship with Philip and his friendship with Ryan, most of the locals still viewed him with suspicion. He figured he’d earned that and anyway, he was used to being on the receiving end of disappointment and disapproval. It didn’t bother him. He didn’t live his life to please others. He did what felt right to him. Made choices that felt right to him. As long as he could live with himself, that was all that mattered.

But in the end it hadn’t been hatred or anger he’d seen in her eyes.

It had been—nothing.

His ex-wife really didn’t give a damn that he was occupying her space.

In which case he should just return the bag and have done with it.

She needed it. He had it. It was as simple as that.

Maybe then the two of them could make a go of living side by side.

With a rough curse he snatched up the backpack, ignoring Ryan’s curious look.

“I’ll take it over there in the morning.”

“Why not now?”

“Long flight. She’ll be asleep.” And there was no way he wanted to risk seeing her in her pajamas or, worse, naked.

He’d knock on the door, hand it over and leave. No words needed to be exchanged. No emotions, although if she wanted to yell at him he would stand there and take it. He wouldn’t even defend himself because how did you defend the indefensible? But in any case, it was clear Brittany no longer had any feelings she wanted to express.

She wasn’t looking for closure.

The door between them had been closed a long time.