InHap*pily Ever After

by Kim Desalvo

  “We need to talk,” he hissed, noticing some of the other people at the bar leaning toward them. He tucked the key ring into his pocket. “Let’s go back to my place.”

  “I don’t have anything to say to you.” she said, loud enough for the patrons around them to hear, “and you don’t have anything to say to me either—at least nothing that I want to hear.” She started to turn her stool back toward the bar, but he caught the arm of the chair before she could turn her back to him.

  “Come on, Lex,” he whispered urgently, taking in all the interested eyes that were already focused on them. “We’re not doing this here…just come with me so I can explain; please.” He squeezed her arm, trying to pull her from the stool.

  Lexi raised her voice just a bit. “Get your hands off me you cheating bastard! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “Shit,” Ryan muttered, leaning in and trying to shush her. “You can’t just leave things like this! We’ve been together for five years, Lexi. You owe me the right to explain. It’s not what it looks like.” She smirked at him and shook her head. “I don’t know what you think you saw in the gym parking lot, but I’m sure you’re making too much of it.”

  Her stare turned icy, and he felt the chill coming from her. “I know exactly what I saw,” she hissed. “I don’t need your take on it, but thanks anyway.”

  “Fuck! You can’t just walk away like this—it isn’t fair. You cleaned out my apartment; you destroyed all our pictures…”

  “Those are pictures of a relationship, you cocksucker—pictures that show a progression toward a future. Since you destroyed the relationship, the pictures mean nothing. Your new girlfriend would have made you take them down anyway, so I just did you a favor.”

  “A favor?” his voice squeaked. He took a deep breath to hold his temper down and lowered his voice. “She’s not my girlfriend, Lexi, it’s work, damn it. She works for Truitt Industries, and she’s helping me out with the project, that’s all. It’s the one that’s going to help me make partner, remember?”

  “It’s also the one that canceled our wedding.”

  “Postponed—it’s just postponed, Lex,” his words sounded more like a plea than a statement.

  “No,” she said impassively. “It’s definitely canceled, Ryan.”

  “All you could have seen was a kiss on the cheek in the parking lot. I can’t believe you’re jumping to conclusions!”

  A slow sardonic grin spread across her face. “And on Saturday? When you were in New York? With Wes?”

  She watched his eyes shift, his lip twitch; saw his face begin to falter. He looked down at the ground before forcing his gaze back to hers. “What about it?”

  “I saw you, Ryan. I was standing there watching the two of you walk into the damned hotel when I called and you lied to my fucking face, all dressed up at the Intercontinental with your goddamn overnight bag that I helped you pack. I was standing thirty feet away from you during the phone conversation where you lied and told me you were heading in for a meeting with your boss, you asshole.”

  “Shit,” he muttered, the color draining from his face. Then his expression changed completely; desperation flooding his eyes. Their conversation had become an attraction, and he spoke as quietly as he could. “It’s all this goddamn stress, Lexi, that’s all!” he groaned. “Please let me explain! Do you have any idea what the past few weeks have been like for me?” he groaned. “What I’ve been going through?” He felt the heat rising in his cheeks and his voice got more desperate.

  Her answer was another shrug and a slight frown.

  “I’ve had people offering me money to attend our wedding, Lexi, just so they can be in the same room with Dylan Miller! I had someone offer me ten thousand dollars just to sit at his goddam table. People are asking me if they can invite their nieces and nephews, their neighbors, and they say that they’ll crash the reception anyway if they’re not invited. The whole thing was turning into a goddamned circus, and… ” He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. Her expression hadn’t changed in the slightest. There was no pity there, no understanding, and certainly no forgiveness. He took a deep breath and finished his sentence. “…none of it was about me, Lexi, or about us—we haven’t even picked out invitations yet and it’s all about Dylan Miller—it’s our fucking wedding!” His breath was coming in ragged gasps now, because he wasn’t at all sure that he could pull this off anymore. He couldn’t read anything in her expression except for ice—she wasn’t buying any of it, and he had nothing else in his repertoire to try and make her understand.

  Her expression remained cool, so he raised his voice. “Wes suggested that we hire security for our reception, Lexi—security guards! What kind of shit is that? And people are asking me to get them into Tia’s wedding, too. They’re asking if Dylan’s going to sing at our reception, if he’s going to stand up…”

  He stopped for a breath, and Lexi finally spoke, her voice sarcastic and condescending. “Poor Ryan,” she gushed. “The universe isn’t revolving around you and you can’t handle it. Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? You don’t think I’ve been dealing with the same shit?” She took a casual sip of her water and turned to him, her expression blank and uncaring. Although she hadn’t had anyone offer her money, she’d had a few clients hinting at attending her wedding, and the girls from the snobby clique at work were still falling all over themselves trying to get into her good graces. “I’ve gotten shit, too Ryan, but I’ve been trying to balance it all so it fits into my life. Your response to it, however, was to go sleep with someone else? That’s how you dealt with it?”

  “It’s supposed to be our day!” he howled. “They just got engaged, and they had to plan their wedding for right before ours? There are going to be more pictures of him in our wedding album than there are of us, and no one’s even going to care that it’s our wedding. Doesn’t that bother you? At all?”

  Lexi took a deep breath and shook her head. “Dylan can’t help who he is, you pompous jackass, and even you know him well enough to know that he doesn’t flaunt it in anyone’s face. He’s my friend, and he’ll be my best friend’s husband, and he’s a damn good person.” Daggers flew from her eyes. “I can’t even believe you’re trying to blame Dylan for you sleeping with someone else. For you lying to me!”

  He shook his head. “I was overwhelmed, that’s all,” he tried desperately to explain. “Even you’re out doing interviews, feeding off all the attention, and then there’s me, sitting in the background; the asshole who’s not privy to all the inside jokes…I feel like I don’t even exist when he’s around.”

  “I’ve gone out of my way to include you, Ryan. I’ve dragged you to every party and watched you mope around, scowling at everyone. Your piss poor attitude has sucked the fun out of every event, but I never once complained. I tried to be understanding of the fact that it was a bit of a mind fuck to suddenly find out that your fiancé had a secret friendship with a bunch of rock stars; I tried to put myself in your shoes and be patient, hoping you’d get over the jealousy and get to know them like I know them…”

  “A relationship is right!” he spat. “I felt the same way watching you with the drummer as I did when I saw you in Miller’s arms—there has to be trust in a relationship, Lexi, and you could’ve trusted me with the secret from the start instead of spending months whispering on the phone and changing your stories every time you told them. I knew you were hiding…”

  “You want to talk to me about trust? How dare you?” She clenched her hands into fists and felt the blood rushing to her face. “I never once did anything to jeopardize our relationship, and my word should’ve been enough. You weren’t exactly a prince to be around either, constantly questioning me about where I was going or who was on the phone; tossing in your little accusations about me sleeping with Dylan no matter how many times I told you it didn’t happen. And now you have the audacity to talk to me about trust when you really are sleeping with someone else?”

  Ryan hung
his head. He had nothing else, and he’d picked the wrong choice of words to try and make his last argument.

  “So I ask again,” she said steadily. “Instead of talking to me about it; trying to work it out together; your solution was to go and get yourself a goddamn girlfriend?”

  “Damn it, Lexi,” he said, the desperation creeping into his voice, “I just didn’t know how to handle it all. I made a stupid fucking mistake and I’m really sorry. Please—we can fix this.”

  “Oh no, it wasn’t a mistake, Ryan,” she said, with so much fake sincerity in her voice it made his blood curdle. “Don’t you see? It fixed every one of your problems.”

  Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows in question. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Well, first of all,” she said, “now you won’t have to worry about anyone trying to get an invitation to our wedding, because we won’t be having one.” He winced at her words. “Plus, you won’t have to worry about scoring invites to Dylan and Tia’s wedding, because you won’t be attending.” Her words were like a slap. “And,” she added, “you won’t have to worry about my imaginary desires to be a fame whore anymore, because nothing I do will ever be your concern again.” His head started swimming and he swayed on his feet. “You can just go be happy with your new girlfriend, and forget all about me, Dylan Miller, and our relationship, Ryan,” she hissed, looking him straight in the eye. “You disrespected me in the worst way possible, and I can’t ever forgive that. So,” she said, tossing a quick glance at the door, “you should really just go now.” A small smattering of applause rose from the small crowd and Ryan’s face burned red. “And you might want to just stick with your new club and give up this one; especially since by tomorrow every person here is going to know what kind of shit you are. I doubt you’ll enjoy your usual welcome.”

  He grasped for something—anything—that might turn the situation around. “I still have stuff at your place,” he whined desperately. “Let’s just go back there and talk this through! Please, Lexi, we’ve invested five years in each other—you can’t just walk away!”

  “Your stuff is in the back of your car,” she answered. “And I have nothing left to say to you, Ryan. Except that I’m glad I figured out who you really are before I married you. Now please just get out of my sight.” She turned back to the bar and calmly sipped her mineral water, willing her shaking hands not to betray her. Defeated, and with dozens of eyes staring at him, he finally turned away and slunk out the door.

  Chapter 34

  Lexi struggled to open the door to her apartment, tears fogging her vision. She’d given Ryan time to leave the club, maintaining her dignity and even getting some reassuring remarks from some of the people who had eavesdropped on their conversation. As soon as she got behind the wheel of her car, though, she broke down, and it was at least ten minutes before she was able to drive home.

  It was a lot to absorb, and she fell onto her couch and curled up in fetal position, hugging a pillow and letting the tears come. Once a cheater, always a cheater—she really believed that; which meant that there would be no going back. No forgiveness, no second chances, and no reconciliation—life as she knew it was over.

  It was going to take some serious effort to get used to not having Ryan in her life. She’d been with him pretty much since high school, dating on and off for a few years before eventually getting together for good after his second year of college. She’d dated a few other guys along the way, but he was her only serious relationship; they’d planned a future, and now the rest of her life suddenly lay long and empty before her. As she had so many times in recent weeks, her thoughts turned to what Tia had gone through in the past year. She remembered how hard it was for her to start over after Nick died; how she found Dylan because of her concentrated efforts to find ways to ease her way back into life again. What was it she had said? Something about how she was going to have to figure out who she was, just her, because she’d been half of “TiaandNick” for so long that she didn’t really know anymore?

  Oh God, now that’s me, she thought, her heart growing heavier in her chest. Not only would she have to face those same issues, but she would also have to deal with the fact that she’d been betrayed and face the likelihood of running into Ryan out in public with his new girlfriend. At least the five years Tia had with Nick were full of treasured moments and not a complete waste of time that left scars on every memory.

  Incidental happenstance, she thought bitterly, a twisted concoction of coincidence and fate. If Tia had fallen in love with anyone in the world other than Dylan…if she’d never started the stupid fucking game with the ‘gimmes…’ if she hadn’t told Ryan that Dylan was the one man in the world she fantasized about…would things have played out differently? What were the odds that out of the billions of people in the world, Tia and Dylan; an unlikely couple, anyway; would find each other? There was probably a bigger chance of getting struck by lightning, being bitten by a shark, and winning the lottery on the same damn day. Vegas would have a field day with those odds.

  She also couldn’t help the fact that the lawyer in her reared its ugly head and she found herself arguing Ryan’s case. In some respects, she could understand where he was coming from. Not the cheating part—she’d never get over that—but she could see how any guy’s self-confidence might falter in a side-by-side comparison with Dylan Miller. ‘Sexiest Man on Earth’ was just the tip of a very big iceberg when it came to defining Dylan. First off, what guy hadn’t dreamed of being a rock star at some point in their life; imagined being adored by thousands of fans from atop a huge stage, women screaming their names and worshiping them like gods? And then there was Dylan the movie star—his name in lights on the big screen; playing roles opposite some of the most famous names in the business; attending red carpet premiers and Hollywood parties. And of course, there was Dylan the millionaire—his many talents earned him much more than a comfortable living, and he’d never have to worry about money. He could afford the very best of everything, travel first class, drive fancy cars, and own multiple homes. Plus, Dylan was just a really good person. He treated everyone with respect and never put himself above anyone else. Even without the accolades of fame he would stand out in a crowd. He tried hard to cast a small shadow, but most people felt it looming over them anyway. Still, the fact remained that Ryan had betrayed her in the worst way possible, and there was no excuse in the world for that. The verdict is in, ladies and gentlemen of the jury; he’s guilty on all counts of being a complete prick.

  The flip side of Dylan’s situation; the side that Ryan and most other people would never understand; were the sacrifices that Dylan was forced to make because of his fame. She was one of the few people who knew how awkward Dylan’s celebrity made him feel…who saw the lengths he went to in order to blend into a crowd, to not call attention to himself. It bothered him that people focused so much energy on his celebrity status, and very little on who he was on the inside. If Ryan could see the internal struggle with which Dylan lived his life, would he still feel the same way? Could he ever truly understand?

  Her phone chirped, and she picked it up to see Tia’s number on the screen. She broke into a fresh round of sobs as she realized that she could never tell her best friend the real reason that Ryan had torn her apart.

  She went through the rest of the week in a fog, avoiding phone calls from Ryan and telling Tia only enough to keep her off her back, hoping that work would keep her busy enough to divert her focus. Although she hadn’t intended on talking about the break-up until she was sure she could do it without falling apart, she had a major meltdown on Thursday when Candy started talking about throwing her a shower one day after work. Lexi tried to push it off, but Candy wouldn’t let up; asking what her favorite foods were, whether she liked white wine or red, and if they should invite some of the girls from other offices on their floor. Lexi hid out in her own office, but when she ventured out to scrounge up some lunch and saw the invitation; with her name spell
ed wrong once again; hanging on the corkboard in the kitchen, she lost it. She tore it off the wall just as Candy and her little posse of conceited paralegals walked into the room.

  Candy looked at her and winked. “Oh, I get it…we should do personal invitations, right? I absolutely agree…I told Carlie not to put it there.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at the brunette, who lowered her head and took the blame that probably didn’t belong to her.

  Lexi suck in a breath and yelled, “No, you don’t get it! First of all, we are not friends,” she twirled her finger in the air around the little group. “You don’t even know how to spell my name! Second of all, I’m not even with the bastard anymore, OK? There isn’t going to be a wedding, so you can all stop pretending to like me just so you can score some time with InHap.” She tossed the invitation in the trash and pushed her way through the door, crashing into two other attorneys who were coming in to see what all the commotion was about. She ducked into her office and grabbed her purse, telling her secretary as she rushed out that she was going home for the day and wouldn’t be in tomorrow. Then she sat behind the wheel of her car until she was cried out yet again, and drove home to get an early start on what was going to be a long and miserable weekend.

  Lexi jumped when she heard the key turn in the lock and rushed to hook the chain before the assailant gained entry. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with people right now—any of them. She had plenty of sympathy for herself, and sure as hell didn’t need anyone else’s. She might have made it if she hadn’t cracked her shin on the coffee table and fallen back onto the couch, grabbing her leg and wincing in pain. By the time she stood back up, it was too late.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, yanking up her pant leg and checking for damage as Tia stepped into the apartment. On any other day she would have been glad to see her best friend; hers was always the shoulder on which Lexi chose to cry. She knew without a doubt that Tia had done nothing purposely to hurt her—knew that she never would—but keeping Tia’s secret had apparently been the beginning of the end for her own relationship, and she couldn’t help but feel that Tia’s now-perfect life came at the expense of her own. Karma was a serious bitch. “Go away.”