Capture

The Bolter

I felt bad.

First for Andy, I know that Casey is his whole life and if she'd cheated on him that would crush him. Then I felt bad for Casey; she deserved the benefit of the doubt, maybe I had heard it wrong or taken it out of context, after all it was only a short conversation. Then, I felt bad for me. I was once a victim of cheating and it killed me. Now here I was again stuck in the middle of hating my friend and wondering if I should out her dirty laundry on the day of her wedding.

I couldn't keep it to myself anymore. The weight of the conversation I'd overheard pressed so heavily on my chest that I could barely breathe through the dinner. Everything looked picture-perfect. The soft twinkle lights strung through the backyard trees, the low hum of happy chatter, the laughter rolling off Andy's shoulders, and Casey, she was radiant. Glowing like someone with nothing to hide but I knew better or at least, I thought I did.

When Andy disappeared into the crowd to greet an uncle, I caught her eye and tilted my head toward the house. She nodded, not questioning it—because that's how we were, where others needed words we communicated through a glance or touch.

Inside, the air was cooler, quieter. The low hum of the dishwasher was the only sound between us. I didn't dance around it. "I heard you last night," I said, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Casey's face changed, the smile faltering just slightly. "What?"

"By the arbor. You were talking to someone, whispering, it sounded... intense."

She didn't respond right away. Instead, she reached for a half-empty glass of wine on the counter, took a small sip, and sighed. "I really don't want to do this right now," she said.

"That makes two of us."

Her shoulders tightened. "It's not what you think."

"You don't know what I think."

She turned to me, arms crossed. "Fine. It was Ian."

That name. Just hearing it again made my stomach drop. "Ian?" I repeated, like I hadn't heard it right.

"I didn't want to tell you, okay? I knew you'd react like this."

"I'm sorry—how am I supposed to react to you sneaking around in the dark with Ian?"

"I wasn't sneaking," she snapped, then immediately softened. "I wasn't. He came to me. Wanted to talk, about you."

"About me," I echoed, heart thudding.

"He said... he still loves you." The words came out quietly, reluctantly. "I didn't want to tell you because I knew it would drag everything back up. You've been doing better. You're with someone new. You didn't need to hear it."

I stared at her, trying to process it.

Ian, still in love with me. Ian who was engaged to Kate, who used to be my friend and my roommate. "And what?" I asked. "You thought lying to me would be the healthier route?"

"I was trying to protect you, Em," she said. "You've been through enough with him. You don't need him playing with your head again. I didn't want to be the reason you got hurt all over again."

I blinked, trying to make sense of the spinning in my head. "So you're telling me you were just having a heart-to-heart with my ex in the middle of the night. Nothing else?"

Her face fell. "Are you serious?"

"I have to ask," I said, the words coming out before I could stop them. "You were with him, Casey. In secret, you didn't tell me, what the hell am I supposed to think?"