Read Triangles Online

Authors: Ellen Hopkins

Triangles (44 page)

Jace was standing very close to me, and I fought the familiar tug. He

didn’t exactly admit it.
How I feel
about her doesn’t matter. Holly
wants to move out. If it wasn’t for
the kids, she’d already be gone.

I took two steps to the side. “Jace, I am so grateful for the time I’ve had with you. But the only way you and I 874/881

could ever be right together is if Holly is totally out of the picture. She’s my friend, and she’s your wife. And I can’t be with someone who’s in love with someone

else. If you still love her, you have to convince her to give it another try.” He talked her into six months.

Who knows what her decision will

be? I only know it was the right thing for me. In the days since, I have heard from would-be and former lovers,

none of whom were right for me.

Vern called to offer condolences,

which only reminded us both of

Valerie, my friend and his wife.

Cheating on one friend was more

than enough. I could never make

it two. And I told him that’s what

it would feel like. Geoff asked me

to the Renaissance Fair. I joked my way out of that one. “I’m sorry, but I have nightmares about men in

875/881

codpieces. Something rooted in my

childhood serfdom, I guess.”

He laughed, said okay, and there

was acknowledgment in his answer.

I don’t think he’ll call again.

I DID NOT EXPECT

Robin’s call. In fact, it came from so far out of the blue at the dinner table that when caller ID announced it,

I dropped my fork.
Pick up!
urged Harley.

She asked about Robin exactly once

after he went to Vegas. I thought she was happy he’d exited our lives. Turned out she was worried about me. I never told her about the other woman, or my one Facebook exchange with Robin. With

her sitting there, I kind of had to answer.

“Uh, oh, hello. So nice to hear from you.” My tone was snarky. His was conciliatory.

Andrea, I’m so sorry. Liz is an old flame
who happened through town and asked
for a place to stay. I couldn’t say no, right?

I agreed he couldn’t but didn’t really want to discuss it further with Harley 877/881

tuning in to every word. I borrowed an Aussie phrase. “No worries, mate.

Listen. Harley and I are finishing

dinner. How about I get hold of you on Facebook?” I did, and we now

correspond fairly regularly. I haven’t closed that door completely. Fact is, I do really like him. And Liz, he swears, has gone on her way. I believe him.

But Vegas is three hundred and fifty miles from here. Barring one of us

moving—highly unlikely—I’m not

sure how our relationship can thrive.

But at least we’re friends. I think male friends are a very good thing

for a woman to have. I’m glad Drew

is there for Marissa and maintaining a much bigger presence in her life.

Chris doesn’t dare say a goddamn thing.

Drew is her safety net. And she needs one.

HER HEALING IS SLOW

Like the tarrying end of Indian summer.

A careless eye might see only the bronze and scarlet splendor, clinging to the treetops.

But keen observers view the scaffold branches beneath tenuous leaves. Only the strong survive winter. I will be here for Marissa, and for Holly if our friendship can endure. Harley and Bri are tighter than ever, so I hope it’s possible.

As for me, there is a new prospect, at once tempting and daunting.

I bumped into Anthony Malik—

Shelby’s doctor—standing in line

at Whole Foods. I’d been to his office with Missy a couple of times and he asked how she was doing. Something

kind of clicked between us. We’ve been to dinner a couple of times. No sex (yet), no strings, no promises. No Harley

introductions. But I like how I feel when I’m with him. That’s enough

879/881

for now. I can make it on my own.

But wish to love again. One man. One me. Parallel lines. And no more triangles.

PARALLEL LINES

It has been noted that

a line is a collection of points

along a straight path

that continues

forever

in opposite directions.

Two lines that go

on and on indefinitely

and never

intersect are parallel.

Lines that intersect,

forming ninety-degree angles,

are

called perpendicular.

Perpendicular lines cross

each other, as

parallel

lines never can. Today,

I’m thinking about how easy

it is to be perpendicular.

And about how, while parallel

lines

may not intersect,

parallel lives often do.

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