Page 82 of Ripple Effect

Murphy Rogan and I dated in high school. He was sweet, charming, and if I remember correctly, very married. “How’s your wife? Kids?” I let go of his hands to reach for the strawberries I’m now determined to buy.

“Kids are doing wonderful. Growing like weeds. Here.” He whips out his phone.

“Oh, Murph, they are too precious.” This is another thing Cal took away from me. Not intentionally, but his “trips” kept pushing off us having kids. A rush of hot bitterness races through me. Maybe he wants them; maybe it just wasn’t with me. A pang hits the region of my heart that this is another facet of life I’ll never get to know.

With a smile, he takes his phone back. “I know. As for Trisha—” He shrugs. “—she lives her life. I live mine.”

My eyes narrow. “What the hell does that mean?”

He takes a step back at the ferocious bite to my voice. “Libby, did you not know I was divorced?”

“What?” I’m startled. “When did this happen?”

He waves his hand. “A ways back. It’s better this way, mostly for the kids. What about you? I know you got married.”

My smile fades as I hold up my ringless hand. “Not for much longer.”

He winces. “Ouch.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I can feel Iris still in the store disapproving of my conversation with Murphy the way she used to hate the guys I’d date in college.

But, so what? She’s fucking my damn husband.

Murphy looks thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

I sass him. “Are women finally becoming immune to your charms? Such a shame.”

He grins, and the dimple that would flirt with me back in high school makes an appearance. “One of the many things I always loved about you, Libby Akin.”

“What’s that?”

“Your mouth.” Judging from the way his eyes cast down to it, he’s remembering more than just the way I didn’t put up with his posturing.

I laugh. For the first time in a month, I laugh. And it feels so good.

“What’s your number?” he asks.

I rattle it off to him, and he programs it in. My phone rings a moment later. Murphy grins. “Be sure to add me to your favorites.”

“There’s only so many spaces, Murphy.” Then I tease him. “You have to earn that spot.”

“You know I’ll try awfully hard, Libby.” Now there’s a glint to his eye I haven’t seen since…

Since my wedding anniversary. I shut down inside. “I… Give me some time, Murph, okay? It’s not going to be easy.”

“It wasn’t for me either. But use my number, Libby.” At my hesitancy to respond, he smiles understandingly. “It helps to have a friend who’s been there.”

And this is why Murphy Rogan is one of the good guys. “I just might do that.”

He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “It was really good to see you, Libby.”

“You too, Murph.” And soon, I’m left remembering football games and homecoming dances intermingled with despair.

Then comes the anger when I feel a hand on my arm. “Libby,” Iris says quietly.

“I look at you and I used to see my best friend, someone who I’d die for,” I begin.

Iris starts to speak, but I cut her off. “Now, I question everything about who you were, about who I am. Did I know you were fucking my husband and deep down I didn’t want to face it?”