the nerve of that guy.

The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I was that Brady was annoyed with me. I was less than 15 minutes late, for starters, and his first instinct was to be mad at me — but what if I was hurt or something was wrong? I could’ve been dead in my apartment for all he knew! And since I was back on good terms with Brendan, I had nothing but time and energy to fight with Brady.

That afternoon I texted him, “I hope you enjoyed yelling at me this morning. Since that’s the way you want to be, any and all contact needs to be made through my publicist.”

He read my message immediately, but waited until later that night to like my message but not reply. Brady didn’t reply at all and I knew things would be awkward on Saturday when I went to drop Winnie off. Like I mentioned before, Brady and I were on like, the best terms and would text all the time throughout the week. My suspicions were confirmed on Saturday when I dropped Winnie off and Brady wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. Leave it to Brady to be weird!

“So what are y’all getting into this weekend?” I asked nicely, trying to smooth things over.

Brady shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Okay, she’s been wanting to watch this new movie on YouTube so maybe you can watch that with her,” I suggested.

He nodded and said nothing.

“Also, we discovered she loves cantaloupe this week so definitely get some when you go to the grocery store. She’ll probably remind you,” I added.

Brady walked past me silently. So I rolled my eyes and followed him.

“Why are you being weird? I was joking when I texted you.”

“I’m not being weird,” he finally said.

“Okay, well are you mad about Brendan? Because—”

Brady made a face and said, rudely, “What? No, I’m not mad about Brendan. I don’t give a fuck what you do, you know that.”

“God, you’re an asshole,” l said.

I stormed the fuck out of there and added him back to the top of my shit list.

That night, Brendan and I went out for dinner and drinks at his favorite restaurant on the corner of his street that we always go to. We were there for hours just talking about everything and drinking glass after glass of wine. He mentioned that he hadn’t heard from his mom at all since she went home to Florida, but she and Danielle still talk regularly. Brendan mentioned that he thought she was overly critical for someone who has been out of his life for so long which I thought was a shady, but real thing for him to say. This got us talking about our relationship and our little hiatus, which we hadn’t discussed in depth yet (just “I missed you,” a ton). Brendan said he was afraid that maybe he truly wasn’t ready to move on and everyone was right — and that’s why he thought space was good too.

“What? Afraid?” I repeated. Why was I just hearing of this?

“Yeah. I was with my ex for most of my life so it would make sense that I’d need time before I was ready to move on to another relationship,” Brendan explained. “But it was so bad at the end that I was ready to move on a long time ago.”

I was glad to hear that at least. I asked him to clarify what he meant when he said “it was so bad at the end,” thinking he was going to shut me down. But to my surprise Brendan actually started telling me about it: fighting about any and every thing and then Reagan would tell her father every little detail and then the dad would confront Brendan about it (an example he gave was one night asked her not to leave the Nespresso or something out and she asked why and he said “because it annoys me.” The dad called him the next morning to lecture him about why that is the wrong thing to say to your wife. V petty). He said she’d go away without him a lot (no invite obvi) and he found himself feeling relieved that he would have a break from her and all the bickering. He said he had a feeling she was hooking up with someone else (because he heard stories 💀) but he could kind of understand since they hadn’t been “intimate” since the whole lying about birth control/trying to get pregnant scheme. I know Brendan is much more understanding than me, but huh?? He could understand getting cheated on after she lied? And then he went into what I thought was the juiciest part: she refused to give her engagement ring back after the divorce so Brendan was keeping a Rolex she got him as a gift one year.

“Obviously the ring is worth way more than the watch, but I guess it’s all I can do,” Brendan said.

Obviously? Wait, how much was this ring worth? It’s not like Rolexes are cheap or even affordable. This was the most interesting part of everything he revealed to me. She refused to give the ring back? You can just do that?

At this point we were the last customers in the restaurant and the staff was stacking the chairs on top of the tables. But Brendan is the kind of guy who goes out of his way to talk to all of the employees and chefs and stuff so they all know and love him there.

“She sounds, like really awful. Does it bother you that your sister is still good friends with her?” I said.

Brendan shrugged. “I don’t want anyone to have to pick sides. They’ve always gotten along really well.”

Again, way more understanding than me. What about loyalty? I don’t have siblings, but if I did and they insisted on still hanging out with my terrible ex, it would be war! Can you imagine?

The first thing I did when I had a chance was go straight to Instagram to try to find this ring that I couldn’t stop thinking about. Reagan had curated her Instagram feed like she’s Kim Kardashian or something, but I was able to scroll back and find a picture where she was sipping from a mug and the ring was on full display. It was really gorgeous — no surprise there — solitaire diamond (huge) with a skinny band. I wanted it for myself and resented her for holding it captive.

Winnie and I spent Thanksgiving in Houston with my family. She’d never been to my hometown and hadn’t met a good chunk of my extended family so I figured it was time. It was an overall pleasant trip — my mom was on her best behavior and only pried a few times — aside from Winnie being scared of one of my grandmothers because she was mean to her. There aren’t any other small children in the family so my grandmother isn’t used to being around a brat. She said something like, “Put that back,” to Winnie in an adult voice and Winnie burst into tears. It’s kind of funny when I think about it now. She’s just like me.

Brady and I slowly got back on good terms. I don’t mind the occasional disagreement, but not speaking for weeks and months on end is just uncomfortable for everyone. Once I decided I was done fighting with him, I started buttering him up until he finally started laughing at my jokes again and texting me back. We didn’t get back to the way we were before (which is probably good considering the whole kitchen makeout and all), but we were both being super flexible and accommodating about our unofficial schedule — he had plans one weekend and I happily kept Winnie, stuff like that. How it should be! When we agreed on our schedule months ago, we said we wouldn’t change the schedule for holidays, but we’d reevaluate that as needed. So at the beginning of December I started asking Brady how he wanted to handle the holidays. To me it made sense for Brady to celebrate with Winnie during the week (+her birthday) and I should get to spend Christmas weekend with her. The only family he really has is his mother and he doesn’t even like her so… Is that mean?

Brady kept being like, “Yeah sure, holidays, we can figure it out once it gets closer.”

This should’ve been a red flag — Brady is not a “figure it out as it gets closer” kind of person. But I thought nothing of it. And I guess worst case scenario, we could just celebrate all together like we did last year.

I got a text message from Anna. I don’t remember ever exchanging numbers with her or saving hers, but the message popped up with her full name.

It read, “Hi Reese! Hope you’re well. I’m reaching out because I’m hosting a surprise birthday party for Brady later this month and wanted to make sure I extend the invite to everyone important to him. Can you think of anyone to be sure to invite? Of course you’re more than welcome to come and bring along anyone you’d like. Here are the details…”

What? First of all, I’d forgotten all about Anna, as I always do (What? She’s forgettable), because it’s not like Brady ever talks about her. So were they officially together? Why would she ask me to help with the guest list? It’s like, I don’t fucking know who to invite, we aren’t friends! I was sitting at happy hour with Brendan and Miguel when the message came in and Brendan said, “You look upset. You okay?”

“I’m fine!” I said brightly and put my phone away. I hadn’t spent any time with Brendan in a few weeks because he was so busy and this was not about to ruin my night.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it though. Anna was throwing Brady a surprise birthday party. Would he even like something like that? I couldn’t picture it. Maybe he would and that’s why he loves Anna so much more than me. And why did she have the audacity to invite me to the surprise party like I wanted any fucking part of that?

I wasn’t even going to reply, but later on I couldn’t help myself. Brendan and I were laying in bed after I’d bossed him around during sex and then he got a phone call that he needed to take from his computer. As soon as he left the room, I pulled out my phone to text Anna back.

“What made you think it was a good idea to ask me who to invite? Brady and I are barely friends and I don’t know anything about his life since we broke up. Invite whoever you want, it has nothing to do with me,” I said.

She didn’t reply. Obviously. There was nothing she could say back to that. It was silly to ask me!

The following week, Brady casually let me know that he and Winnie had Christmas plans with his family and it would require travel so he wouldn’t be able to make any changes to our schedule.

“Uh, okay? Were these last minute plans because I’ve been trying to get you to make plans with me for weeks?” I said.

“Nope, they aren’t last minute plans,” Brady said defiantly.

“Why are you just now telling me then? Because of Anna? Are you mad about that?”

“Mad about what? What does Anna have to do with anything?”

Oh. It made sense that Anna hadn’t told Brady about our conversation since it was all about his surprise. And I wasn’t cruel enough to ruin it for him so I pivoted.

“Where are you going anyway?” I asked.

He said that they were going to Massachusetts to meet Hunter and his family — and they were leaving early on Christmas Eve morning so please be on time.

“Oh, fuck off. I’m always on time,” I said. The nerve of that guy.

It took until the next morning for the realization to set in that I wouldn’t be spending Christmas with my daughter. And there was really nothing I could do about it. Of course this was always going to be a dilemma since Brady and I share custody, but I hadn’t prepared myself. We’d decked out the apartment, had a fully dressed pink and white tree, gifts galore and we weren’t even going to enjoy it together. Brendan was already on his way over since we were going to a class together and as soon as I started telling him what happened, I started crying. Like, full meltdown sob-crying. Y’all know me. Brendan was saying the only things he could say, the only thing that made sense like, “At least you get to spend her birthday with her,” “You can celebrate with her on another day,” “What about next year?” “You can spend Christmas with me and my family.”

And it’s just like, that’s not the point. Of course, I started whining about how unfair it is considering Brady didn’t even want Winnie and he doesn’t care about holidays or family and he was only doing it to be hurtful.

Brendan said something like, “I know you’re upset, but I don’t think that’s the case. Just know she’s going to have a good holiday whether she’s with you or not and I think that’s all you should be concerned about.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t ask him to come through with facts and level-headedness.

“You’re right,” I sniffled. “I’m still sad though so I think I need to skip rowing today.”

What? I fucking hate that stupid class!

Standard

i didn’t ask for boundaries.

I knew I left Brendan thinking, “What the fuck?” but truthfully I was thinking the same thing. It’s hard to describe how I felt, but space seemed good. I told myself I’d take a day or so to try to get my thoughts and feelings together and then I’d reach out. Fights with Brendan always feel so devastating and final, but they never are.

A couple hours later though, Brendan texted me. He said, “I’m sorry I didn’t say more earlier, but I agree with you. Take all the space you need.”

Uh, excuse me?? Now I was really confused. I definitely wanted to be on the same page, but I hated the idea that he was allowing me to take all the space I needed. No! Grovel and beg for me to come back! So now I was really mad at him — not that he would’ve known since we weren’t talking. The ball was in my court I guess, but I really felt like he should be the one trying to get in touch with me.

The following week, things were still silent and Winnie wanted to know what was up.

“Brendan is at his house. So he can’t play with you,” I explained.

Winnie gave me a skeptical look like, “Wow, so you scared another one of my favorite people away?”

It was absolutely fine though because Winnie and I probably needed to spend some quality time together (without the buffer of a man) anyway. I could pretend that her bad attitude and behavior had nothing to do with Brendan’s absence. After I put the baby to bed, I sat on the couch, pulled out my phone, and sent a meme to Brendan on Instagram. It was my way of showing him that while I was still mad, I wasn’t that mad and I was waiting for him to reach out to me.

But he didn’t reply. He didn’t even open it. Not even the next morning when he was firing off work emails. Oh, so he was alive? Was I being ignored? I was suddenly angry again — it was like he was the one who wanted space and if that was the case, why didn’t he just ask?

I spent the weekend incessantly checking Brendan’s Instagram for signs of life, feeling sorry for myself and unsuccessfully trying to pick a fight with Brady. On Monday morning, I sent an email and got an out-of-office bounce back from Brendan. Oh? It was one of those vague ones like, “I’m currently away and have little access to email. For urgent matters please reach out to Miguel or Yesenia.” So where the fuck was he? He never mentioned a vacation to me.

Miguel showed up to the office in the afternoon. He wanted to talk about this project that has been giving us nothing but trouble and I was like, “I thought I was working with Brendan on that,” snottily.

“He’s out of the business right now so I can help you with that,” Miguel explained like I am three years old. “Is it cool if I help you?”

“Yeah, totally,” I said, feeling bad. I wanted to ask him exactly where Brendan was, but Mike was standing right there.

Later on in the afternoon, Miguel was in a separate meeting that I wasn’t in and I texted him, “Want to get a drink after this?”

A few minutes later he texted back, “Yeah, let’s do it.”

Don’t ask me what I was doing because I don’t know. I think because I missed Brendan and wasn’t speaking to him, Miguel and his proximity to him was as good as I was gonna get. We walked to a nearby bar, one that we had to walk down some steps to get to, and Miguel put a hand on the small of my back to guide me. Hmm. As long as he didn’t get the wrong idea it was fine.

We ordered drinks and I started interrogating him about his wedding and his relationship and the usual. Y’all know me. He was just giving the same old generic answers so then I was asking what his least favorite thing about Jasmine is and what they normally fight about. Basically, I needed to know if he was aware that Jasmine liked to let sketchy men grope her for drugs — not that I was going to blow up my girl’s spot if he didn’t know.

“To be honest with you, Reese, I don’t have any complaints. I couldn’t wish for a better relationship,” he said.

Oh please!

“I know it sounds crazy, but I always told myself I wouldn’t get married unless I felt like this. And you know it took me a long time to find her…”

It was sweet, I guess, if it’s all true. I would love for someone to speak about me the way they speak about each other. Speaking of which, eventually I was like, “So where’s Brendan?”

“Brendan? I don’t know. He didn’t tell me where he was going, just that he needed some time off. I think he’s getting burnt out,” Miguel said.

“Oh. So he didn’t go on vacation somewhere?” I asked.

“I’m not sure. Want me to text him and ask?” 

“No!” I exclaimed. Was he crazy? Don’t even tell him we hung out!

“Uh, okay,” he said.

The next morning I woke up hungover. I nearly forgot about hanging out with Miguel, but then I checked my phone and saw that he texted me.

“I hope you’re feeling better. Let me know if you want to talk,” he said.

Feeling better? Talk? And then I remembered crying on Miguel’s shoulder all night (literally crying) and complaining about my life. He’s so sweet, he just sat there and listened to me. He even offered to cancel his plans with Jasmine to stay and hang out with me, but that was my cue to go. How embarrassing and awkward.

I thought at least word of my tantrum/meltdown would make it back to Brendan and he would finally call me. I figured he’d probably want to know why I was hanging out with his business colleague and making him uncomfortable.

But nope. Nothing. Nothing! If I wasn’t so upset with him I would’ve been concerned that he actually was dead or something. But I knew he wasn’t dead — clearly — he just didn’t want to talk to me. I started having a recurring dream about our last conversation and with each iteration Brendan would get increasingly more mean and nasty. I’d wake up in a cold sweat.

Meanwhile, Mike and Paige were pissing me off. We were under pressure to wrap up our projects before the end of the quarter and they were hounding me about every little detail. I was a bit…distracted and having trouble keeping organized. I found myself scrambling before meetings as I tried to quickly gather information and follow up with people. I tried to help myself by deleting Instagram from my phone (so I didn’t sit there scrolling through Brendan’s, Danielle’s and Reagan’s profiles), but it didn’t actually help because I’d just open a private desktop tab and do it there.

That Saturday I dropped Winnie off with Brady and since I didn’t have anything better to do I stayed hanging out with them until after dark. Brady was being particularly nice (and he had been since crashing my birthday dinner) and ordered dinner for us. We watched movies and played games on the floor and honestly, it was a good distraction. I didn’t even think about Brendan until I was headed back to the city. Kristina texted wanting to hang out but I ignored her.

The next week, I guess I was getting used to the new normal. Brendan and I weren’t speaking and, as far as it seemed, over, but that didn’t stop me from checking his Instagram and LinkedIn every hour on the hour. I was barely staying afloat with all of my work and my inbox was out of control (I normally organize my messages by project or sender or urgency and… that wasn’t happening). Every time Mike or Paige asked for something that should’ve been done days or weeks before, I’d have to drop everything to quickly do it, but then I’d still stop and check Brendan’s LinkedIn to see if anything was updated. It never was and I was driving myself insane.

On Wednesday morning, Brendan finally emerged from hiding. He sent a one word reply to an email with the signature “Sent from my iPhone.”

It’s like, oh you’re alive? Well, fuck you! I read it forty three times trying to decode a secret message or his whereabouts, but to no avail. And since the message wasn’t particularly insightful and wasn’t addressed to me, I couldn’t even reply.

Trying to get additional scoop, I texted Miguel. I wasn’t going to outright ask, but was Brendan now “back in the business?” He provided no clarity and was like, “Let me know if you want to get drinks later. Jasmine and I have a ballroom dance class tonight and I wouldn’t mind being a bit buzzed for that.”

Hmmm. No. As fun as that sounded I was not about to risk humiliating myself again. I didn’t reply. Hopefully Miguel found a shot or two of whiskey on the way to the dance class.

On Saturday, Winnie and I hopped in the car and headed to Brady’s. We’d gone to breakfast at Starbucks and grabbed a to-go coffee and pastry for her dad. I wasn’t thrilled about having to drop her off for the weekend (usually I don’t mind a bit of a break), but at least they wouldn’t care if I hung out with them for a bit.

It started off like always where Brady asked Winnie about her week and I criticized the state of the home (“Oh, you still haven’t been to the grocery store?”) Brady was asking me if I’d heard about things on the news and I was being mean to him like usual. We turned on a movie and Winnie fell asleep and I should’ve left, but then Brady and I continued sitting there talking. We weren’t even talking about anything at all interesting, but I was glad I at least didn’t have to go back to my lonely apartment right away.

We took our conversation to the kitchen so Winnie could sleep I guess. I don’t even know why Brady wanted to talk to me since I was all doom and gloom and being a bitch. But secretly I think he sort of likes me being mean to him because he kept grinning and laughing and we were kind of flirting.

So we were standing there drinking pamplemousse La Croix and I could feel that Brady was standing dangerously close to me.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I said to him.

“Okay,” he said.

And then he leaned in and I put my hand on the back of his head and we started making out. Huh? What the actual fuck? Brady? What was happening? And my body was acting like this was normal (the hand on his head, pulling him closer). I think I just wanted to feel something after moving like a zombie for the last few weeks. But I still felt absolutely nothing. It felt like making out with my hand. It was like that Ava Max lyric: “She’ll kiss your neck with no emotion.” That was me. I could feel Brady getting a boner against my stomach and he continued leaning into me so the edge of the counter cut into my lower back and that was all I could focus on.

Eventually I pushed him away from me.

“What are you doing?” Brady whined like a child.

“I’m leaving,” I said.

“Now? But why?” he continued whining.

“Because I want to go home,” I said with no explanation.

So then I left Brady and his boner and headed back to the city. I didn’t feel particularly bad or guilty or anything really, just zombie-like. Lola sent a selfie of the two of us with the caption, “Miss you!” I ignored her.

I spent most of Sunday in bed even though I told myself I was going to catch up on work. I had been avoiding my inbox and I was not in the mindset to address it. I ordered Shake Shack for lunch, but took one bite and lost interest.

On Monday morning, I got up and dressed and headed into the office for another miserable day of work. But to my surprise, Brendan, Mike and Miguel were standing in the lobby of our suite. Mike looked small and ugly compared to Brendan and Miguel, but they all looked like they meant business. I waltzed right over to them and said, “Hi Brendan!”

“Hey Reese,” he said back, smiling at me.

“Reese, we were waiting all day on Friday for an answer from you and we still haven’t gotten a reply,” Mike said to me.

What the fuck was he talking about? I had no idea.

“Okay, I’ll reply now,” I assured him.

“That would be great,” he said, no-nonsense.

I lingered for a few seconds waiting for someone to talk to me before eventually going to my office to see what Mike was talking about. I was sure to leave my door wide open, just in case anyone wanted to stop by and see me. I sifted through my email and found the chain from Mike. He and Paige were asking if a vendor partner would be able to work with our extremely tight project timeline — a vendor I hadn’t even contacted yet. Oops. So I needed to figure that out asap. I kept an eye and ear on the door while I tried to get an answer for Mike and several agonizing hours went by.

Eventually, Brendan popped his head in my door. I was just sitting there staring at the door so it kind of startled me. He looked cute with his little backpack on.

“Hey, good seeing you. I’m heading out,” Brendan said. Behind him, I could see Miguel lurking and talking on the phone.

I glared at Brendan because really? Good seeing you? After nearly a month, that’s all he had to say to me?

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. Goodbye!” I said.

“Okay. Bye.”

Obviously that tripped me up and I couldn’t concentrate for the remainder of the work day. I figured out the answer for Mike so at least that got him off my back but my inbox continued piling up.

As I was leaving the office at 6, I texted Brendan saying, “We need to talk.”

I had been waiting for him to reach out to me, but of course that motherfucker was still acting mute.

“I would love that,” Brendan said, which I appreciated. I left him on read while I tried to think of how I wanted to handle this and then he said, “I’ll be home later if you want to stop by.”

I definitely did. So I dropped my work stuff at home, went to an express Pilates class then came back home to shower and change. Then I called an Uber Black to take me to Brendan’s apartment. I don’t know what I was expecting from our conversation, but considering I’d been depressed since the last time I was at his place, I hoped we figured out something.

My virtual key was apparently still working so I let myself in and found Brendan and Kendall sitting on the couch playing a video game on the PlayStation or Xbox or whatever.

Reeeeese!” Kendall said excitedly without even looking up from the TV.

“Hi,” I said.

Brendan looked at me out of the corner of his eye and nodded, but didn’t say anything. Whatever. They were playing some sporting game and I watched from the armchair.

“How’ve you been?” Kendall asked me.

“I’ve quite literally never been better,” I lied and he grinned, again not even taking his eyes off the TV.

Brendan kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye and I was getting antsy so I took a few laps around the apartment. Nothing looked out of place and there were no stray panties or anything so that was good.

Finally the game ended, Kendall hugged me goodbye and then Brendan and I were alone. He was sitting relaxed on the couch wearing a Fear of God Essentials hoodie and kept looking at me timidly.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” I said bitchily even though I was the one who suggested it.

“I do. I thought you did too,” Brendan said.

And then I just broke down and started bawling like the crazy insane psychopath that I am. Like full blown chest-quaking sobs. Brendan finally got up from the couch so he could hug me and comfort me.

Neither of us said anything while I tried to calm down and then finally I managed, “I don’t understand. Why. You haven’t talked to. Me,” all hiccupy and sobby.

“Uh, because you said you needed space,” Brendan said, confused.

“I did and you agreed! But don’t you think you had enough space by now?” I said.

“I have, have you?” he said.

Yes!” I screamed. “But you didn’t even act like you wanted to talk to me!”

“I was giving you space, Reese,” Brendan said calmly. “I don’t know how else to do that besides give you space.”

“For three weeks?!”

“I…didn’t know how much time you needed. I deliberately didn’t reach out to you when I wanted to so I could respect your boundaries,” he explained.

Brendan and these boundaries! I don’t remember asking for my boundaries to be respected.

“But you agreed! You wanted space from me? Why?” I demanded.

Brendan explained that he thought he made me uncomfortable or overwhelmed with how he expressed how he feels about me (maybe a bit but I love it) so he wanted to back off. I let him know that I didn’t appreciate going from 100 to 0 and I missed him and was very unhappy (understatement of the century) when we weren’t speaking.

“Well, now I feel like shit about that,” he said.

I totally shouldn’t have let him feel shit about it when I was equally at fault, but…oh well. I felt like shit too.

Eventually Brendan was like, “So what do you want? You have to really spell it out for me because I’m apparently not good at reading your mind.”

I smirked and let him know that I want to be with him for literally ever and didn’t want anyone questioning that and I definitely didn’t want to go 3-4 weeks without speaking. He was like yeah totally, I agree with everything you said, but am I freaked out about that?

I shouted, “Obviously!”

Ugh. I was so relieved to have made up with him. It’s kind of scary how off the rails I was when we took a break and I don’t know what to do about that. I mean, I guess I could’ve just been upfront about my feelings and wanting to talk to him, but I wanted the space and I think my reaction told me everything I needed to know.

We stayed up all night talking and having makeup sex and eating chocolate in bed. I closed my eyes at five thirty so I could get a couple hours of sleep before I needed to go home and meet Brady and Winnie. I woke up with Brendan spooning me and my phone blowing the fuck up. Eddie, my doorman, had called, Brady had called and texted, left a couple voicemails and was actively calling again. Apparently he was outside my building.

“OMW!” I texted him back and then screamed and cried, jumping out of the bed.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Brendan asked, thinking someone had died probably.

I explained what was going on and how Brady and Winnie were going to kill me and he offered to drive me the 18 or so blocks back home to meet them. I felt like such an asshole pulling up with Brendan, but I wasn’t even thinking about the fact that Brady and I were making out in his kitchen a few days earlier.

When we arrived, Brady and Winnie were standing outside his car with Eddie standing guard and I barely let Brendan put the car in park before I hopped out.

“Reese, are you fucking kidding me?” Brady greeted me.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry! I don’t know what happened,” I said.

Brady glanced behind me and said, “Oh, really? You don’t know what happened?”

Brendan, not reading the room or atmosphere whatsoever, had followed me out of the car and said, “Hey, good to see you,” to Brady.

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I wanted to die! Brendan and this “good to see you” bullshit!

Winnie was apparently more excited to see Brendan than me and hopped over to hug him.

“You too,” Brady said politely and then gave me a disappointed look like I’m his child. “I’m late for work now so thanks.”

“Sorry,” I said meekly.

I turned around and Brendan and Winnie grinned at me — at least everyone didn’t hate me.

Standard