Fallacy

by K. A. Berg

  Shock covers Ashley’s face. “What?”

  “Yeah, what the fuck?” Tanner chimes in.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrug. “I don’t think I made the situation any better when I basically implied she’s been cheating on me for two years.”

  The confusion on Ashley’s face matches what I feel inside. “Why does she think you cheated on her?”

  “It doesn’t make sense to me either,” Tanner adds. “You spent all your time with her or thinking about her.”

  I can feel my anger returning. This development hasn’t helped give me closure. It’s brought even more unanswered questions. “I have no clue why she thinks that or why she didn’t ask me about it before deciding I’m guilty of something I didn’t do.” I grip the bottle in my hand and try to control the sea of emotions surging through me as it does every time I think about this whole clusterfuck. How can she just decide I did something without any proof? I know there isn’t any because I did nothing wrong. Whatever happened to trust or communication? I wasn’t some dude she picked for the weekend.

  “She wouldn’t have come to you or me or anyone. She’s wouldn’t even want to talk about it,” Ashley explains. “Cheating’s her biggest fear. If she thought for even a second you were doing something, she was done with everything.”

  “Why?” I ask hoping to get some more pieces of the puzzle to fit together.

  “I wish I could help you here, but again, it’s not my story to tell.” Well, that’s really fucking helpful, I think as I slam back the rest of my beer.

  “Now you see how I’m not up for any more bad news, right?” I ask switching the conversation back to the real reason I’m here tonight.

  “Well, I can guarantee we don’t have bad news for you.” A smile spreads across both their faces as Ashley speaks.

  “Well, then let’s hear the good news?”

  “We’re pregnant,” Tanner divulges, male pride oozing from his every pore.

  “Holy shit,” I choke on my beer. “What are you trying to get yourself a reality show?” I smile at them wiping the beer from my chin.

  “No,” Ash giggles. “It wasn’t planned, but we’re excited about it.”

  “I’m very happy for you guys. You deserve it,” I congratulate them as I round the kitchen island to hug them both.

  “We need to celebrate with a beer,” I tell Tanner, heading back toward the fridge pulling out two new beers. “I just have to use the bathroom first.”

  When I return to the kitchen, Ashley and Tanner are looking at something on her phone. I grab the beers off the counter and head over to hand it to him.

  “Cheers,” I say, raising my beer up as I wrap my arm around Ashley.

  “Cheers,” Tanner says, clinking his bottle with mine. I smile at him and then smile down at Ashley, who still has her phone in her hand.

  The image on her phone takes my breath away. Quinn in a beautiful wedding dress and a smile on her face.

  “Sorry,” Ashley apologizes tucking her phone away. “You weren’t supposed to see that. I was just showing Tanner the picture from earlier today.”

  I nod at her and take a large chug of my beer.

  I always wondered what Quinn would look like when she finally got over her fears and let someone in. Now I know. Except it’s not me who will be waiting for her at the end of the aisle.

  She’s beautiful in her dress, just as I expected she’d be. But damn, I could’ve gone the rest of my life without having to see her in a wedding dress for another man to take her out of. A dress which will be a part of vows to someone else. Part of a celebration in honor of their union. A union which has the potential to really fuck me up. I’ve been hoping in the back of my mind maybe this whole charade wouldn’t happen. Seeing that picture just drilled it home. I’ve been in denial. This wedding is happening and in less than a month.

  Chapter Fifty

  Quinn

  “Here you go, babe,” Jordan says, handing me my new glass of wine. We’ve been working on some last-minute wedding stuff, and I’m ready to crawl out of my skin. I never gave much thought to how torturous planning a wedding is when you despise them in the first place.

  Jordan and I have been working the seating chart for the last hour. It’s not as easy as I thought it would be, but I didn’t trust my mother and Sarah to do it. Jordan also thought it would be best if we did this part together.

  There’ll be lots of family and business associates mingling. We want to make sure the people we put in close proximity can actually get along for the night. “Okay, I’m pretty sure we’re good with no bloodshed on my end. How you doing on yours?” he asks, returning to sit next to me on the couch.

  My coffee table is covered with lists, charts, and binders of wedding shit. I should get an award for keeping my cool through the last few weeks.

  “I think I’m almost done, but honestly, I don’t know if any of this will even make sense tomorrow. My head hurts, and my eyes are starting to cross from staring at this for so long. Who would’ve ever thought it would be this painstaking.” I sigh, closing my eyes and lying back on the couch.

  I feel Jordan rise from the couch, but I don’t make any attempt to open my eyes. If I do, I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist the urge to gouge them out to avoid looking at one more name.

  Jordan’s hands on my shoulders startle me as he starts to massage them. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for doing all this for me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. I’m glad I could help. It’s not like I'm entirely selfless in this,” I moan as his fingers find a knot between my shoulder blades.

  “I do need to thank you,” he reiterates. “These last couple of months with my dad have been fantastic. I can see the peace in his eyes. I think he feels like he can go easier when the time comes. I don’t even know if I’m making any sense right now, but a thank you is definitely not enough for everything you have done for me.”

  Jordan has a sixth sense when it comes to my apprehension of weddings. Just when I want to throw in the towel and say fuck it, I can’t do this, he reminds me even though my father is forcing me to do this, there’s something really good coming out of it.

  Opening my eyes, I look up at him. There’s a very apparent happiness surrounding him while he’s thinking about his dad. There’s a peace that overcomes him which I assume is the same looks he’s referring to his father having. I’ve made this possible for him. This is why I’m doing this.

  Reaching for his hand, I give it a squeeze. “The look on your face is thanks enough for me, Jordan,” I smile.

  “I’m extremely lucky to have you in my life,” he smiles back. “You’re a considerate, generous, lovely woman. You’ve given me something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay. I know you aren’t big on these things, which makes what you’re doing for me even more important. I should shake your dad’s hand for being such a piece of shit.”

  “Let’s not go crazy now. You’re lucky I’m even letting him attend. Don’t ask me to be nice to him as well,” I joke.

  “It’s amazing how well you’ve turned out after being raised by an asshole,” he says in a joking tone even though I know he’s not joking.

  “I’m a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘turned out well’ is one of them.” I’m far from turning out well. I’m as fucked up as they come, and it’s all at the hands of my dad.

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re an amazing woman.”

  I wonder if Jordan would still think I’m amazing if he knew the secret I was hiding. Or if he knew how much I’m actually dreading this wedding. As the days get closer and closer, I’m feeling more and more trapped. Almost as if the walls are closing in on me. I’m avoiding one prison by choosing another. Would I still be amazing to him them?

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Alex

  It’s been three weeks since I went to see Quinn and I can’t stop thinking about what she said. I still haven’t got the slightest clue what
I did to make her think I could’ve possibly been with someone else. We spent most of our time together or with Tanner and Ash. The only time we were really apart was when I was away with the team, but she couldn’t possibly think I’d cheat while away. Not that I could even if the thought had crossed my mind; I was with Tanner. Tanner would’ve had my balls if he caught me with someone who wasn’t Quinn. Unless she thought he was covering for me. But if that was the case, then I know Ashley would’ve heard about it.

  Then again maybe not. Quinn isn’t the type who shared her feelings easily. It took me a while to get her to let her guard down, and even then, I didn’t get all the way inside. She may not have wanted to let anyone know she was afraid she was being cheated on. Whether or not she didn’t want anyone else to know is irrelevant in my book. She’s didn’t even bother to come to me. She didn’t try to confront me. If I had thought she was sleeping with someone else, damn right I would’ve confronted her. I would’ve demanded to know why. Why I wasn’t enough? Where I went wrong? If I could’ve fixed it. And how could I fix it? But she didn’t want to know any of that.

  That’s the part of this whole puzzle making the least sense. If she was so sure I was stepping out on her, why not call me out on it? She’s always been a no nonsense, straight to the point person. She’ll tell you the things you need to hear, even if you don’t want to hear them. I’ve seen her do it a lot. With everyone. It’s the type of person Quinn is—or was back then. Why didn’t she confront me about this? Something so big. She just decided whatever she has built up about me in her head was the truth.

  I’m tired of playing this game with her. She’s a thirty-year-old woman. She needs to learn she can’t treat people this way. Especially people who love her. I want answers, and I’m done waiting for her to give them to me.

  This is why I find myself playing the role of stalker once more, on my way to sit outside her building to ambush her when she gets home from work. Again.

  When I get to her place, I drive around the block hoping to see her car parked outside. I can’t access the building’s parking garage since I don’t have an access card.

  I don’t see her car on the street. I grab the first open spot and decide to head inside. I don’t think sitting in the car and waiting would be good for my mental state right now. It’s after eight o’clock so there’s a fifty-fifty chance she could already be home.

  I smile at the doorman as he opens the door for me, thankful this isn’t the kind of place where they have a visitor’s list, and head to the elevator.

  My intentions are much different today than they were the last time I came here. Before I just wanted to feel the situation out for myself. Now, I want everything I’m entitled to. The truth.

  Anger is consuming me. And I don’t like to be angry. It’s a feeling very unfamiliar for me. I’ve never been the type of person to let things bother me. I’d like to consider myself mellow and easygoing. But there’s no more room left for being that guy. I’m holding on to my anger, and I plan on using it to get some fucking answers.

  I feel cheated. Robbed of the beautiful life Quinn and I could’ve been living if she had just fucking let me all the way in. She didn’t give me a chance to prove her wrong. She just moved on. Right on to Jordan. He better not be here. I need Quinn alone. It’s going to be hard enough to get her to talk.

  I step off the elevator and turn down the hall toward Quinn’s place. Standing in front of the door, I don’t feel any hesitation this time as I bang on the door, using way more force than necessary. I have no idea if she’s even home, but I still find myself gearing up for battle.

  I hear a grunt behind the door before the lock clicks, and she opens the door. She doesn’t fully open it, hiding behind it. “What are you doing here?” she demands.

  She sounds annoyed and maybe a little pissed off. Good. That makes two of us. “We need to talk,” I say forcefully as I make my way through the door, not giving her a chance to tell me to go away.

  “I don’t see what we really have to talk about, but sure, why don’t you come in?” she retorts, the sarcasm dripping from her voice as I basically slam the door behind me.

  “Well, more precisely, you have some talking to do,” I respond sternly, looking her dead in the eye as I say it. I glance around and see nothing leading me to believe Jordan is here. Good.

  It’s easy to tell Quinn’s taken aback by my tone, but I don’t care at the moment. I handled this woman with kid gloves our entire relationship, and it got me nothing. Nothing but a broken heart and two years of unanswered questions.

  “I don’t have anything to say to you,” she says. Her stiff posture tells me the same thing mine is telling her. It’s time for battle. I’ve hardly ever been short with her or even raised my voice. Never wanting to scare her away, but she’s already away. There’s no place left to push her.

  Except right into Jordan’s arms at the end of the aisle. I push the thought out of my head as soon as it enters. There’s no more room for those kinds of feelings right now.

  Not wasting any more time, I get right to the point. “I want to know why you left me. Tell me why you threw me away like I was nothing to you. How could you do that to me?” I growl, opening the floodgates.

  “We were over. It was a fling that had run its course. I’ve told you this already. It’s not hard to understand,” she huffs with a heavy breath.

  Christ, I think it would hurt less if she just slapped me in the face. She might as well put my heart in a fucking vice. Every time she down plays what we had, it feels like a punch to the balls. I’m not sure whether I want to drop to my knees and cry or throw up. “So, help me God, if you call what we had a fling one more time, I may seriously explode. We were not a fling. Flings do not last two years. Flings do not have the connection we have. Stop. Calling. Us. A. Fling,” I say between gritted teeth.

  “I call it as I see it, Alex. It's been two fucking years. Get over it.”

  Get over it? This woman is going to push me to the point of strangulation soon if she says that one more time.

  “No, angel, what you had with everyone else was a fling. You’re a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kind of girl. Just one time. Wasn’t that your rule? You fucked me and only me for two whole years. Why do you think that is? Because we were just a fling? Who’s kidding who, Quinn?” I say stepping toward her. I crouch down, making my face level with hers when I say, “We were more than just a fling, I’m sorry if you’re having trouble with that.”

  “Maybe, but who knows if I was the only one you were fucking during those two years, so that makes it a fling,” she says planting her hands on her hips in a defensive stance.

  Every stupid thing leaving her mouth pisses me off more. I turn away from her needing a minute to cool down. Seeing her stand there accusing me of cheating again makes my insides boil. I want to scream at the top of my lungs in rage. “Where in the hell did you ever get the idea I was sleeping with someone else?” I turn back around and yell, fed up with all this bullshit. “There’s no way you could possibly believe that. You never even asked if it was true. You didn’t want to know it was you and only you. I haven’t wanted someone else since the moment I laid eyes on you. You fucking owned me. But you didn’t give a shit about me. You just wanted to believe what you wanted to believe. Tell me the real reason why you left. Why did you run scared?”

  I already knew she left because she was scared, but if I hadn’t known, the tiny gasp leaving her mouth and the way her eyes widen in shock would’ve proved it. It’s gone from her face as quickly as it appeared as she puts her mask of indifference back on. Her body goes lax and she rolls her eyes as if she’s trying to act like none of this affects her. “I wasn’t scared,” she lies before turning the conversation back at me. “Why do you even care? We’ve moved on. I don’t understand why this still matters to you.”

  I can feel the redness on my face. The veins bulging in my neck as each word leaves my mouth. I’ll make sure this woman understands the depth of
my feelings for her before I leave this apartment, even if it kills me. “I care because I fucking love you. After all the shit you pulled on me—after you fucking gutted me—I still love you. It matters to me because I still fucking care about you. Even though I want to strangle you, I still love you. You threw me away like I was yesterday’s garbage and never looked back. After all that, you can at least have the decency to tell me why you ripped my heart out and stomped on it. And if you tell me one more god damn time it’s because we were a fling that ran its course, I can’t be held accountable for my actions,” I scream at her, letting out every ounce of pent up anger, hurt and frustration.

  Her voice is cold as ice. “It’s been two years, Alex. You don’t still love me. I doubt you ever did.”

  “Don’t tell me how I fucking feel. Stop trying to avoid telling me what the fuck happened,” I bellow. My irritation at her is rising to an all-time high.

  “None of this even fucking matters anymore, Alex. What’s done is done. If I had known you were an asshole from the beginning, you wouldn’t have gotten past the first fuck. You can’t change who you are. This is pointless. Telling you isn’t going to change anything,” she screams back, fisting her hands in frustration. I don’t know what she has to be angry about. She knows why she left. Things make sense to her.

  I step closer to her, ensuring she knows I’m not going anywhere until I get answers. “That’s for me to decide. Now stop stalling,” I demand.

  She heaves a few angry breaths before she opens her mouth to speak. I just pray like hell whatever she tells me helps me weave my way through this mess before I lose my fucking mind.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Quinn