Sadie (18+)

Chapter 25

After Julia's grandparents were dropped off, with Vincent politely escorting them up the steps and into their house, we stopped at a local grocery store. Tony stayed in the car, so it was just the four of us walking through the parking lot, the moon bright against the dark sky.

Julia cursed beside me. "He's calling me."

"Are you going to pick up?" I asked her, watching her hand tighten around her phone, knuckles turning white. "You don't have to, you know."

She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. "I know, but I have to see what he wants, and why he's been acting so weird lately."

"Do you want me to sit with you while you talk to him?" I asked gently, but she shook her head. It wouldn't surprise me if Justin dumped her; he always came off sketchy and disingenuous to me. Him breaking things off would benefit Julia down the road, though it would hurt to see her so heartbroken.

"It's okay. I'll be over there," she said, pointing at a bench near the automatic doors at the front of the store. "Help them shop so we can go home."

I caught up to Gina, who was digging around in her purse, preoccupied by the fact that she couldn't find her usual notepad. "I need to clean out my purse—I can't find a damned thing in here."

Once inside, Vincent went to retrieve a hand-held shopping basket. There was something strange about being in a grocery store this late at night, as the aisles were so empty that it was almost uncomfortable to look at.

"I just need a few things," Gina said as we walked. "I forgot to pick up more yeast for the pizza I'm making tomorrow."

"That's fine with me. Julia said she'll be out by the front," I responded. "She's talking to Justin on the phone."

"I don't like him," Gina remarked, finally pulling out a pen and a tiny scrap of paper. "He put her through enough as it is."

"Agreed," I said. "Do you want me to write down a list for you?"

"Thank you, honey," she replied, handing me the pen and flimsy piece of paper. "Can you write yeast, basil, mozzarella, and—Vin, do we have enough olive oil at home? And do we need more milk?"

Vincent returned with the basket. "We could use more of both."

I jotted everything down, which barely fit on the tiny piece of paper. Gina started making her way toward the aisle that contained the olive oil. She never needed to look at the signs, as navigating through this store had become second nature. Gina naturally went through ingredients quickly, and Julia had dragged me with her plenty of times over the years to accompany her mother while she shopped.

This moment, however, and every moment moving forward, would not just become an innocent recollection. My time with Gina would forever be tainted by the looming reminder of what I was doing with her husband.

I stared at the scribbled ingredients as we walked, attempting to shake off the guilt, then crossed out the olive oil once Gina had placed it in the basket that Vincent held.

She tackled the other items on the list, Vincent and I following behind as we traversed through the store. We were now on to the fresh mozzarella in the dairy section, which Gina had immediately located.