“Let’s not talk about it anymore,” Drew suggests. “Thanks for the heads-up, asshole.” I’m not sure he could sound more sarcastic if he tried. He picks his food back up and furiously stabs at it, his abrupt body language underscoring his angry declaration that this conversation is over.
I don’t say anything, quietly trying to finish my own food as Nick prattles on about his own life, then tries to get me to divulge trade secrets of my company, before giving up and declaring he’s going to go meet some friends to see a movie.
Once the door closes behind him, an unnerving silence descends between Drew and me. We’ve both long since finished eating, so Drew grabs our empty containers and takes them into the kitchen, rinsing them and tossing them into the recycling bin.
I follow quietly, leaning against the counter as he scrubs his hands over his face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask quietly.
Drew drops his hands to his side. “No, CJ, I don’t,” he says flatly.
I fold my arms over my chest and collapse into myself.
“Okay, fine, sorry I asked,” I mumble, averting my eyes.
“Hey,” he says, coming around the counter to stand next to me. He tugs at my arms, interlacing his fingers with mine. “Don’t do that. It’s not because I’m trying to hide anything or I don’t trust you. It was just a really shitty thing that happened, and I don’t see the point in reliving it. It’s over.”
I look up, jutting my chin out. “But is it? If she’s back in town, maybe you’re part of the reason,” I protest.
He takes a deep breath before responding. “I can’t say that’s not true,” he allows. “But I have no reason to think it is. We haven’t had any contact since just after the restraining order was put in place over a year ago.”
“After?” I ask in a clipped tone. “As in, you got a restraining order against this woman and she still didn’t respect it?” He doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face confirms that’s true. “Then how on earth can you promise me it won’t be an issue again?”
“I guess I can’t,” he admits. “But talking about it isn’t going to do any good either. I’ve moved. I’ve changed my phone number. Nick is the only friend we had in common, and even he’s not stupid enough to give her any information on me. Seriously, CJ, I just want to drop this, okay?”
“But —”
“I said fucking drop it,” he snarls.
I’m so shocked that I take a step back, pulling my hands out of his grasp. Because, as I was going to say, I know he’s worked at the restaurant for a while, so there’s at least one obvious way she could still find him.
“I think I should go,” I say quietly. “You clearly need some time to calm down about this.” And I don’t know how to stop digging, knowing what I do. This could be the information I’ve been looking for. I’d rather piss him off and try than not.
“No,” he protests, reaching for me. I take another step back and shake my head. Frustration oozes out of his pores. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I just … I don’t want to relive all of that right now. God, even just continuing to have this conversation is just …” He presses his lips together and clenches his fists, clearly beyond agitated.
“And I don’t know how to not have it, don’t you understand? This is kind of a big deal,” I explain. “If I stay, I’m just going to keep pissing you off.”
With a pensive expression, he contemplates me for a moment. “Then you’re right. Probably best if you just go.”
Even though I’m the one who suggested it — not once but twice — his words still hurt. I try not to show it. But the tears that well in my eyes and the tremble of my lower lip give me away. Drew’s expression closes so he’s stone-faced before me. And I know he’s done for right now. Whatever it is about this woman, about what happened, it was so traumatic that he can’t even bear to think about it, much less talk about it.
But I need to know what happened, and if it will affect his future. It’s the first and only solid lead I have. How can I just let it go? I may not be able to, but I can at least resist the temptation to make this worse right now and try again later.
With a sharp sniff, I turn away and grab my things as quickly as I can. As I turn the doorknob, I look back to find him standing in the same place, with the same expression on his face. God, he’s so stubborn.
But then, I guess I am too.
“Bye,” I whisper.
He lifts a hand half-heartedly, but doesn’t say anything.
With a heavy feeling in my chest, I leave.
Chapter Fifteen
DREW
I stand exactly where CJ left me for so long that my legs start to tingle. I can’t say I’m even thinking about much, I’m just in shock. It’s only when I move again, going straight to my room and crashing angrily onto the bed, that I start to really process what just happened.
First, that Amber’s back. Mommy and Daddy must’ve pulled the plug on the European vacation they sent her on to get her away from the mess she made. I guess I’m not surprised. She had to come back eventually. Her family is still here, and whatever else of her own life that she had before me and … everything that happened. I shake my head, still not ready to think about why she’s back or what that means.
The second part is what really sucks though. I hadn’t thought much about telling CJ about Amber. I figured it would come up naturally if we stayed together a while. God knows that was my plan. But her finding out the way she did and my reaction … well, I may have just blown that plan to shit.
I’m not mad at CJ. I’m mad at myself. Why am I still so fucking reactive about Amber? I thought I was over it. That it was in the past. That I didn’t have to worry or think about it ever again. Stupid, I know.
I call the only person I can think of who knows me well enough to provide a reality check here.
She picks up on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mom,” I say on a sigh.
“Oh, Andrew,” she sighs back. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
I huff a breath out of my nose.
“I’m a fucking idiot, that’s what’s wrong,” I reply.
“Language, darling,” she warns me.
“Sorry,” I sigh, sitting up and scooting so I can lean back against the pillows. “CJ found out about Amber tonight. And not from me. She was on Nick’s flight in today. Amber, I mean.”
“I see,” she responds. “She hasn’t contacted you, has she?”
I snort. “No. And she better not.”
“Then what’s got your knickers in a twist?”
A smile tugs at my mouth. Such a Mom expression. But even her idiosyncrasies aren’t enough to pull me out of my funk.
“I … might have gotten a little upset and shut down the discussion, even though CJ clearly had questions. And I get that she has every right to know. I just … couldn’t, Ma. How can I still be so disturbed by this?”
“It was a long, drawn out mess. It’s perfectly natural that her return would stir up old feelings,” my mom responds. “I think the better question is, why did it make you push CJ away? I thought you were really crazy about her.”