“We went over this. You broke up with me. What I do after that isn’t anything to do with you,” I say firmly. “And it definitely doesn’t have to do with Alexis.”
Lara sighs and shakes her head. “It was like being stabbed. It really felt that way. When I left the house that day… it felt as if I had two knives in my back. I wasn’t even sure I could breathe. Do you really think I should have been forced to go through that every time I went to a family gathering?”
I try to imagine it. As much as Alexis’ pain over losing her sister got to me, I have to admit that neither of us, really, ever thought that Lara had really, truly been hurt. Or at least, I didn’t. I’d thought that Lara was just being petty, that she was bitter and resentful. That she was trying to make Alexis pay.
Even now I can’t quite believe that it could have possibly hurt Lara that much to see her ex-boyfriend with her sister. I can’t imagine it, really. But obviously she believes it.
“We wanted to reconnect with you all along. Alexis especially,” I say.
“Well, want in one hand, spit in the other. I think you wanted the impossible…” Lara smiles wryly, and we both lapse into silence.
“Let’s talk about something else for a while,” I suggest.
Lara agrees, and we start talking about Riley’s new words, about the traffic on the expressway, about anything — anything, except the complicated mess that our relationships have become.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lara
“You can set up your station right over there in the shade,” I tell the face-painter. I figure that since all her patrons, the guests at Riley’s party, are going to be sitting for a long time, the shade will be a better idea. It’s unseasonably warm for fall, and with the first spate of autumn rain thankfully behind us, it’s bright and sunny for Riley’s party.
Ethan and I had booked a space at a park in our old town, central for everyone who would be coming to the party. Dad had tried to convince us to have the birthday in his backyard, the way Ethan and Alexis had her first birthday, but that seemed to me to be risking the accusation that we weren’t being impartial, or at least that I wasn’t.
Dad is pushing Riley on one of the toddler swings, and Ethan is helping put up decorations around the little sheltered area we’ve taken. The party should be starting in about an hour, and between all the details, I’m feeling like it will either be a big success or a massive failure in some critical way. The cake is safely stowed in a cooler, and a caterer is setting up her hot and cold trays on a table.
“How’s this, Lara?”
I look up to see Ethan, perched on the top of the latter, gesturing to the bunting he’s been hanging around the shelter.
“Looks good!” I call back. I take another glance around the spot we’ve reserved and decide that things are as prepared as they’re going to be before people start arriving. I head back to my car to freshen up a bit, and start thinking about the oddness of the whole situation.
After carefully asking around, I’ve found out that most of the people who went to the same school as Ethan and I believe that we’re in the process of reconciling. I’m not sure how to feel about that, especially since Ethan and I have been talking more and more about the whole sordid situation between him, me and Alexis. Part of me wonders if the people who knew us all in high school have something figured out that I don’t, while another part of me keeps screaming, every time I even think about getting back together with Ethan, even just as an intellectual thing, that Ethan will just break my heart again if I do.
“You looking to pick someone up at this thing?”
I glance away from my flip-down mirror to see Ethan standing a few feet away from my car, looking at me in amusement.
“Oh please. I’m not so pathetic that I’m going to try to flirt with people at my niece’s birthday party,” I say tartly.
“I’m just saying you look good, especially now that you’ve cleaned up a bit,” Ethan says, looking me up and down.
I roll my eyes and finish touching up my lip color.
“You’re not supposed to be looking at me,” I say. I can’t explain, even to myself, why I feel so irritable. Some combination of the pressure I’m putting on myself to make this happen, the knowledge that apparently a good dozen people think that Ethan and I are going to get back together, and worries that everyone is going to keep talking about my sister all day.
“Why not? There’s nothing wrong with looking. I thought we’d just agreed not to get physical,” Ethan quietly says. I flip the mirror back up and turn around in the driver’s seat, putting my feet on the ground and staring at my brother-in-law.
“I’m not going to set myself up to get hurt again,” I tell him.
“What?” Ethan frowns. “What are you talking about?”
I shake my head.
“Now is not the time to have this conversation. People are going to start arriving in like, thirty minutes,” I say.
“So, thirty minutes from now is not the time, then. You can’t just say something like that and expect me not to want you to explain,” Ethan counters.
“You broke my heart, Ethan. Do you really expect me to jump right back into the fire after I’ve been burned?”
“Why do you think I’m going to hurt you? And how the hell did I break your heart? You broke up with me, remember?”
“Were you always attracted to her?” I cross my arms over my chest. “And everyone who comes today is going to be thinking about how I shut her out of my life for so long, and how
