Owen and I had been friends for many years. He had been through 3 marriages, and a myriad of flings and girlfriends. He had baggage. The last girlfriend had helped him through the loss of his mother when I couldn’t. Then she cheated on him. He never was able to have another serious relationship after that.
So as Owen and I left the restaurant where we had lunch occasionally to catch up, it was no wonder I had to hide the grimace of revulsion as the ex walked up.
“Well, well, long time no see. You two together?” I pictured her words smeared with grease as she tried to slither into his life again. I glanced at him. He gave a friendly smile to her and flushed pink. Awkward.
“We were just leaving,” I interjected, “but we really should catch up sometime.” I smiled, broad and fake, before climbing in the car, willing Owen to follow.
He looked at me from the driver’s seat, reading my disgust. “I know,” he sighed.
“I know you know, and you want her back.” I rolled my eyes.
He sounded surprised.