Page 13 of Revenge Reads Better

“It could happen.” She arches a brow. “What? You saying I couldn’t pull them if I wanted to? Is that what you’re saying? That I’m not attractive enough? That I lost it after pumping out the triplets? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Not at all, wife.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the crook of her neck. “I’m saying I don’t share what’s mine.”

Cathie’s momentary annoyance disappears beneath her husband’s possessive words. “Good answer.”

“Hey, Max. Everything good?” Wade greets, though he barely glances at me before looking away again.

I’m used to it, so I don’t take offense.

“She’s fine,” Cathie answers for me. “She’s just about to head home for her high school reunion.”

“Yikes. Sorry.” Wade winces. “Those things are a total bore. Went to mine a few years ago and swore to never go to one again.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Bad doesn’t even cover it. Everyone either looked bloated, had work done, or pretended to be more successful than they actually were.” He frowns. “It was pathetic. I’d rather spend quality time with my wife and boys than waste another evening pretending to care what my old classmates have been up to.” He gently sways Cathie from side to side. “The only silver lining was that we were in and out in under an hour.”

“That’s where Max’s going to have a harder time. Her reunion lasts an entire week,” Cathie explains.

“A whole week?” His brows lift. “Fuck. Don’t those people have anything better to do than reminisce?”

No. No, they do not.

What I don’t say is that most of the people attending still live in Fairhope. This reunion isn’t just for my graduating class. It’s an event for the whole town. Since nothing ever happens in Fairhope, there was never any chance they would pass up an opportunity for excitement, even if it came in the form of a high school reunion.

“Hopefully it won’t be too bad,” I lie, forcing a weak smile.

“Hope so. For your sake.” Wade shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t get the appeal of reunions. Sometimes the past is better left where it belongs. I don’t see the point in trying to relive those years. I wouldn’t trade what I have now for anything I left behind in high school.”

“Well, that’s you, Wade.” Cathie cranes her neck back to look her husband in the eye. “Some people peak in high school and need to relive those glory days just to feel good about themselves.”

“Like I said.” He smirks. “Pathetic.”

“Don’t mind him. When he finds a word he likes, he tends to repeat it to death.” Cathie laughs just as Wade leans in closer from behind to whisper something in her ear.

Judging by the blush creeping across her cheeks, I have a pretty good idea what he whispered.

“Where are the kids?”

“Outside by the pool. Our parents are watching them and having the time of their lives.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Hmm…” Cathie bites her lower lip, her eyelashes lowering as she considers whatever her husband has just proposed. So much so that it takes her a beat to remember that she’s still on the line with me. “Babe, I’m going to have to call you back.” She clears her throat, trying—yet failing—to keep a straight face while Wade continues kissing her shoulder. “Um… something came up.” She giggles. “But don’t you dare flake out! You’ve got this, girl. Just start the car and drive to your hotel.”

“It’s a bed-and-breakfast, actually. The town’s too small for a hotel.”

“Whatever.” She laughs again as Wade’s hands disappear from view. “Just take baby steps. Focus on getting to the B&B. Unpack, then maybe take a shower and eat something. If you only think about the next small step, it won’t feel nearly as overwhelming.”

I wish that were true. But since I can tell my friend’s mind is on something other than my woes, I fake a smile for her and lie.

“I’m sure you’re right. Now go have some fun. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Bye, babe!”

Before I have a chance to say goodbye, the screen goes black. Guess making baby number four takes precedence over my inner turmoil.

No. That’s unfair. Cathie’s been a good friend to me. It’s not her fault I’m a walking, talking trauma wound. And she is right. Maybe if I just focus on the small things, I’ll be able to survive the shitstorm I’m sure is about to go down.

Or maybe not. Perhaps everyone’s changed. Maybe they’ve all grown into wonderful, caring human beings.