BooksBarbecue
Back When We Were Friends
Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. About the Author
  5. 31
  6. 14
  7. 31
  8. 14
  9. 31
  10. 14
  11. 31
  12. 14
  13. 31
  14. 15
  15. 31
  16. 16
  17. 32
  18. 16
  19. 32
  20. 17
  21. 32
  22. 17
  23. 32
  24. 17
  25. 32
  26. 17
  27. 32
  28. 18
  29. 32
  30. 18
  31. 32
  32. 18
  33. 32
  34. 18
  35. 32
  36. 18
  37. 32
  38. 18
  39. 32
  40. 18
  41. 32
  42. 18
  43. 32
  44. 18
  45. 32
  46. 32
  47. 33
  48. 33
  49. 33
  50. Acknowledgments
  51. Discussion Questions
  52. Booklist

How could this be happening? How could I have got it so wrong? I knew his former engagement had slowed him down, but it hadn’t occurred to me it had put him off altogether. I felt so internally humiliated...especially as I’d thought it could’ve happened any day now. After this fucking dinner party. But, of course I couldn’t say any of this to him. Not out loud. That would make him want to marry me even less.

“Oh,” I got out, on top of the umm.

“I mean, do you really not agree?” Ben asked, taking my hand now, as if he was asking a mild political opinion about fucking fair trade oat milk, not our future together. “Like, what does it mean anyway?”

“Marriage?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it means wanting to spend the rest of your life together.”

He grinned, almost smugly. “But you don’t have to be married to do that, do you?”

“Hmm.” I bit my lip to withhold the scream. No. Not you. Not you, good one. Not the one I am counting on. Not the one I finally thought it would be easy with.

“Well, do you?”

“I...guess not.”

He relaxed back into the sofa, sighing happily at my lack of disapproval, pleased I was playing the part, while chaos reigned behind my rib cage. I leaned over and picked up the menu, just to give myself something to do.

“I guess I’m just surprised is all,” I said, twisting toward him. I said it so neutrally I wanted an independent body to watch this back and award me some kind of medal. “You know? Because you were engaged before?”

Ben shrugged with his whole body. “If anything Tiffany made me realize how stupid the whole thing is. How it means nothing. Not really. I mean, yeah, we were that committed that we’d promised, literally promised, to spend the rest of our lives together. And look, it clearly didn’t mean anything. Being engaged is not the same as showing up every day. Not like you and me do.”

He smiled—knowing, maybe, that the compliment would placate me. Which, frustratingly, it did, but only for a millisecond. Then he turned his glorious face to mine, his eyes wide, glinting, and aggressively changed the subject. “So, do you think it’s too dangerous to try the lasagna tomorrow? I’ve had one triumph and one disaster, but I think, if I don’t rush it this time...”