26 I want you back

LILY

"And this guy…" Lauren went on. "He's an artist and a football player?"

I giggled from inside the dressing room. Pulled on the top of the dress I was trying on, bringing it higher up on my breasts.

"Yup."

"And he's a swimmer too," Lauren said. She sounded skeptical now. "And you say he's handy around the house?"

"Very."

I laughed inwardly this time. Hey, technically I was telling the truth. To an extent, at least. Lauren didn't have to know I was talking about three guys instead of one.

Not yet, anyway.

"So what the hell does he look like? Superman?

"Like an athlete," I called out. "Tall and ripped and totally gorgeous. Washboard stomach. And also—"

"Well shit!" she interjected. "Does he have a brother?"

A whole fraternity of them, I wanted to say. Or at least, used to…

I stepped out of the dressing room and spun around. Lauren looked me up and down, then let out a low whistle.

"Good?"

"No," she smirked. "Not good."

I lowered my head in disappointment. "Oh."

"Astonishing!"

"Really?" My face lit up as I stared into the mirror. She was right. The tight red dress was slit up the side, the perfect mix of sexy and classy. Even with the plunging neckline it looked great around my hips and thighs. I turned to the side and beamed.

"Yeah yeah," she said, pretending to be peeved. "It also makes you ass look magnificent."

Holy shit it actually did. I clapped my hands together.

"You some lose weight while I was gone?" Lauren asked.

"A little," I said. "Been working out at the University gym. Probably tightened a few things up."

In truth, Brandon had been working out with me when he could. He'd showed me where the gym was to begin with, plus a few new exercises while he was there. I figured the place was free to students and faculty, might as well take advantage of it.

"So this is the one, right?" I asked. "You're sure?"

"Hey," said Lauren. "If I was going to an art premiere with my football player, swim-star, artistic boyfriend?" She winked. "Yeah, this would be the dress."

"Good then let's go," I said, heading for the register. "Lunch is on me. And no more about my sad pathetic dating life," I teased. "I want to hear all about Italy."

Lunch was fantastic. Seeing Lauren, even more so. She told me all about her trip with her sisters and family. The things they saw, the guys they met…

By the time it was over, it was sad to watch her leave. I had forgotten how good it was to hang out with friends again. Silently I vowed to keep more in touch, and be less of a ghost in my friend's life.

That wasn't entirely your fault though.

I sighed as I walked back to my car. Even after the divorce, living with my ex had pretty much felt the same as being married to him. To some extent I still answered to him. Still shopped, cooked, even cleaned for the both of us sometimes. Looking back now, I realized more than ever I should've gotten out of there a long time ago.

Garrett…

In all the happiness of shopping with Lauren, I had forgotten all about Garrett's missed phone call. What the hell did he want, anyway? He hadn't left a message. Maybe he finished boxing up the rest of my stuff?

Whatever it was, it could wait. I wasn't calling him back anytime soon. Tonight was special, and I wanted to focus solely on—

"Hey lily."

The sight of my ex husband standing there on the sidewalk threw me physically backwards. I had to blink three times to make sure it was him.

"W—What are doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Garrett said. "You didn't call me back so…" His statement trailed off awkwardly.

"So you stalked me?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh relax," he said, with just a hint of his trademark sneer. "It's nothing that ominous. I saw you were in town so I came to see if we could sit down for a few minutes. You're still sharing locating services with me, remember?"

Oh shit.

I pulled out my phone. Pressed a few buttons. "Not anymore."

Garrett sighed. "Fine, I guess I had that coming. But now that we're both here, could you at least give me ten minutes?"

My better judgment told me to walk away, but Garrett was never any good at taking no for an answer. I had spend ten minutes just arguing that I wouldn't spend ten minutes with him.

"I'll give you five." I grumbled.

Less than a block later we were at an old coffee shop, sitting across from each other in the front window. I wanted as public a place as possible. Not that I didn't trust him — Garrett was many things, but not that big of a creep — but mostly because I wanted an excuse to duck out as soon as I'd heard what he had to say.

"You sure you don't want anything?" he asked, dumping sugar in his cup.

"No, I just ate."

"Fine," he sighed. "By the way, you look really good…"

Flattery. That's a new one.

Actually it was an old one. Garrett hadn't actually said something nice about me in just about forever.

He must want something.

"What do you want Garrett?"

He looked away for a moment, his eyes wandering across the street as if staring off into nothing. I could see him thinking. Trying to form the words. Trying to say as much as possible by revealing as little as possible, because that's the way he always worked.

"I want you back," he finally blurted.

The words were alien to me at first, like he was speaking a different language. When their meaning finally struck home, I nearly choked on my own laugh.

"I'm serious," he went on. "Lily I made a huge mistake. I never should have let our marriage fall apart. And when we were separated… I should've fixed it. I should've never—"

"Screwed a half dozen other women?" I jumped in. "While trying to 'find out' what you really want?"

He winced as he sipped his coffee. "Yeah, that's fair. I guess I had that one coming too."

"You already got what you had coming," I told him. "Her name's Carla."

He looked like shit. I mean complete, utter shit. Garrett's once pretty eyes were sunken, and he had three or four days of growth going on with his beard. And not the sexy stubble of my three gorgeous boyfriends, either.

Half of me was secretly happy he was doing so poorly without me. The other half just felt bad for him.

"Carla was a mistake," Garret said.

"Oh?" I replied, injecting as much bitchiness into the word as possible. "What happened with her? Did she go through all my makeup and move on?"

"Lily, I—"

"What about Debbie, was she a mistake too? And Melissa? How about—"

"All of them," he said. "All of them but you."

I glanced down. Sometime during the conversation he'd placed his hands delicately over mine. There was a time I would've thought the sentiment adorable. Right now, it repulsed me.

"I'm not really sure what you're thinking," I snarled as I yanked my arms backward, "but we are never getting back together."

His eyes changed. They grew harder and fiercer. A lot more narrow.

Now this is a look I'm used to.

"C'mon," Garrett pleaded roughly. "You can't possibly enjoy living in that half-finished rat trap you've been renovating."

Nothing he could've said would've made me more angry.

"Rat trap?" I laughed. "Rat trap?"

"I don't mean it like—"

"And how the hell do you know where I've been living?" I demanded. "Have you been following me this whole time or—" I stopped suddenly, looking down at my phone. "Oh yeah. Shared location."

My ex-husband shrugged apologetically. He looked sad now. Even pathetic.

"Lily, please think about moving back in. It can be like it was before, I promise. I'll make it right again! Just… just give it a chance."

In a brief moment of weakness I actually felt sorry for him.

"Garrett look," I said placatingly. "I am never coming back. It's over between us." Then, after a slight pause: "I've even moved on."

My last words struck him an almost physical blow. He sat back in his chair, unsure of what to do or say next. I seized the opportunity to rise to my feet.

"I wish you well, I really do," I said. "But you need to move on also."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but I cut him off.

"Goodbye Garrett," I said, gathering my bags. "And good luck."

Hurrying back to my car, I prided myself on how well I'd handled the whole thing. Seeing my ex wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. It actually felt good, even therapeutic. I smiled as I slid the key into the ignition.

I had my boys to thank for that.