Guy Hater

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Guy Hater Page 13

by Sterling, J.


  I shook my head and wiped at my eyes as I stumbled through the night in search of my car. Alone. Because that woman who had come into the bar with her friends had definitely been Frank’s girlfriend.

  I’d watched as she wrapped her arms around his waist like he belonged to her. Seen her press her lips against his like they were hers to claim. And I’d definitely taken note of how Frank had refused to look at me after she arrived, knowing that he’d been caught, knowing that I’d need answers.

  I fought off the sickness that threatened to rise from my stomach at the memory of it all. Had it been cowardly of me to race out of the bar instead of confronting him? The thought had only crossed my mind before I realized that I’d only be making a fool of myself. And Frank had done that enough for both of us already.

  “Claudia!”

  The voice tore through me and stopped me in my tracks. I froze and was devastated when I turned around to see the wrong Fisher brother chasing after me. I felt so stupid for even thinking that it might be Frank coming for me, to right his wrong or to apologize.

  “Ryan?” I choked out his name as I waited for him to catch up to me. “Ryan, was that Frank’s . . .” I couldn’t even say it, couldn’t bear to have my fear verified, even though I already knew the truth.

  “I’m really sorry, Claudia. It’s not what it looks like.” His expression was pained as he gripped the back of his neck briefly before dropping his hand and looking away.

  “How the hell could it not be what it looked like?” I spat out. I knew exactly what it looked like, exactly what it was.

  “I mean, it is,” Ryan said, stumbling over his words, clearly uncomfortable. “But it’s not that black and white.”

  I figured he was trying to cover for his brother. Of course he’d cover for him. Those brothers seemed to be the very definition of loyal, at least when it came to each other. I stifled a sick laugh at the idea of Frank being loyal to any other person.

  “What are you talking about? That’s his girlfriend, though, right? Frank has a girlfriend?” My throat tightened as I finally choked out the words, but everything started to make sense as things that had seemed odd to me before clicked together like a puzzle.

  “Yeah, but it’s complicated.”

  I shook my head at his crappy reasoning. “No. It’s really not.”

  Frank having a girlfriend was a deal breaker. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I probably wouldn’t have believed it. Frank didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would lie and cheat, but it just went to prove that you couldn’t always trust your heart in these matters.

  “Claudia, it’s not my story to tell, otherwise I’d tell you everything,” Ryan said, obviously trying to make me feel better.

  That wasn’t going to happen. I was done. Whatever had sparked to life between Frank and me now needed to die. I’d stomp on it until only embers remained, and throw water on the rest.

  “Please trust me when I tell you that there’s more to this than you think,” Ryan pleaded as if he could read my mind and see the defeat there.

  “No, there’s not more to this. There’s nothing to tell. Frank has a girlfriend, and he lied to me. He lied! I feel so stupid,” I blurted, confessing all the thoughts running through my head. They kept spilling out of my mouth without a filter. “Make sure you tell him to lose my number. And not to ever fucking contact me again.”

  “Claudia!”

  Ryan shouted after me as I stalked away, a million thoughts running through my head as my heart broke into a million jagged pieces. He kept talking, but I didn’t stop or turn around. There was nothing left to say.

  Frank was a liar and a cheater.

  Just like my father.

  • • •

  “He has a girlfriend?” Britney asked for the fifth time as she placed a quart of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream with two spoons between us on the couch.

  I’d walked through our front door fully composed, my anger keeping me from falling apart until I spotted Britney’s face. One look at her and all my resolve went out the window. I started to cry, confessing the ugly truth to her as I collapsed onto the couch and tried to pull myself together.

  “He has a girlfriend,” I repeated, my tone swinging between sadness and anger. My emotions were all over the place. One second I was mad, and then devastated, and then mad all over again. It was a relentless merry-go-round, one I apparently had little control over.

  Britney shook her head in disbelief. “You’re sure? A hundred percent certain?”

  I glared at her. She now knew every detail from this past evening as well as I did. “She kissed him.” I scooped a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. It melted instantly, the cold creaminess turning into warm liquid before I added, “Like he was familiar to her. It wasn’t something new. They were comfortable together.” Seeing her press her body against Frank’s she’d done it a million times before played in my mind on a loop.

  “I just can’t believe it.” Britney shook her head, echoing my own thoughts.

  “Ryan could have said something to me. He could have clued me in, given me a hint, anything,” I spat out.

  “It wasn’t Ryan’s place to say something to you. Can you imagine him telling you something like that behind Frank’s back? Frank would murder him.”

  I hated agreeing with her, but she was right. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced out a breath through my nose. “No, you’re right. I just feel like such a fool. There I was, falling for Frank, and Ryan knew the whole time that he wasn’t available. I must have looked so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid. And you didn’t do anything wrong. But I guess now everything sorta makes sense.”

  “Like what? What exactly makes sense?” I choked back a sob, trying to keep my emotions in check, but it was a losing battle. I was a wreck.

  “Why he was so weird with you. It wasn’t because he was shy or wanted to take things slow. He had a girlfriend the whole time.”

  I cringed as she said the words, wishing this was all just a nightmare I could wake up from. “Then why pursue me? Why see me at all? I don’t understand. If he had a girlfriend, what the hell was he doing with me?”

  My mind spun as I tried to make sense of things, searching for logical answers, but it kept coming up empty. Why had Frank continued talking with me, paying me attention, when there was never a future there? Did he honestly think I was the type of girl who could or would be someone’s side piece?

  “You’re not going to like my answer,” Britney said.

  I looked up, waiting for her to continue her thought. When she didn’t, I raised my eyebrows and waved my hand in a circle, urging her to go on.

  “He likes you. Frank likes you. And Ryan said his situation wasn’t black and white, right?”

  I huffed out an annoyed breath. “He isn’t allowed to like me. If he has a girlfriend, then he isn’t allowed to like anyone else but her.”

  Britney laughed. She fucking laughed. “You can’t put parameters on someone’s heart. You can’t tell them how to feel. It’s not like he was looking to meet you. It just . . . happened.”

  I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth. I hadn’t wanted to justify anything Frank had done and think it was okay, regardless of how I felt about him. “No. There’s right and wrong, and what he did was wrong. He should have never made me a part of it. I would never have hung out with him if I knew he had a girlfriend.”

  “I know that. Frank probably knows that too. Which is why he didn’t tell you.”

  I threw my head back and groaned. “Stop defending him.”

  “I’m not. I’m just trying to see it from both sides.”

  “You can’t see it from both sides. You don’t have all the information.”

  “Neither do you,” she snapped back, and when I flinched, she placed a hand on my leg. “Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think that I’m not pissed off at him, because I am. I’m on your side, truly. I’m just trying to understand his motivation. Frank doesn’t see
m like the dirtbag type, you know?”

  “I do know,” I said, my eyes brimming with tears. It made me feel better that Britney hadn’t thought Frank was the kind of man to do this either. It made me feel a little less stupid, a little less naive in my assessment of him and my willingness to give him my heart. Or, at least, my desire to.

  “He’s not like your dad, Claudia,” she said out of nowhere.

  The hurt of that old betrayal soured the air between us, cutting me straight to the core. My head shot up and I practically snarled at her.

  “We don’t know that, though, do we? My mom said that my dad was really charming too. And that she didn’t see it coming. Not when he cheated, and not when he left.”

  My dad was definitely a sore subject for me. When I thought about him, emotions bubbled to the surface that I could usually push aside and pretend didn’t exist. But right now, I was brought low by disappointment and betrayal, and felt once again like that little girl left behind without a backward glance.

  “Frank knew about it too,” I said softly.

  Britney’s eyebrows shot up. “You told him about your dad?”

  “Yeah.” I sucked in a breath, hating how the old anger rose inside me.

  “Well, hell, Claudia,” Britney breathed out. “He definitely wasn’t telling you he had a girlfriend after hearing that story.”

  “Knowing about my dad should have kept him away from me. It should have made him want to do the right thing, not keep doing the wrong one.”

  “But maybe you are his right thing? It’s obvious he likes you. I don’t think this was some game to him, or anything sinister like that.”

  “Britney, stop.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about the things Ryan said. I don’t think Ryan would lie. I think there’s more to the story. Don’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to understand why Frank did what he did. I don’t want to give him an excuse or a reason that makes what he did all right,” I admitted as I searched for the real reason behind my apprehension. “I think it’s because I don’t want to understand why my dad did what he did to us. I don’t want it to be okay. It wasn’t okay.” Tears rolled down my cheeks as the pain I’d once felt as a child clawed its way to the surface, tearing me apart.

  Britney moved the now-melted ice cream onto the coffee table and scooted next to me, then leaned her head on my shoulder. I wiped at my cheeks, brushing away the tears.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Frank should have told you. He should have been honest. And when you told him about your dad, you gave him the perfect opportunity to come clean.”

  “Right? Thank you.”

  “But I bet he was scared shitless,” she added with a slight giggle that for some reason made me smile through my tears.

  “Good. I hope he was scared. And I hope he is now,” I said, my tone a little more vindictive than I’d intended.

  Britney pulled her head from my shoulder and squared to face me. “Wait, what does that mean? Are you going to do something psycho?” She rubbed her palms together. “Don’t you dare go off the deep end without me. If you plan some kind of revenge, I want in!”

  I narrowed my eyes and pulled back from her. “Whoever said white girls weren’t crazy, clearly never met you.”

  “Damn straight,” she said with a proud grin.

  “For the record, I’m not doing anything psycho. I just like the idea of him being scared or worried. Of him feeling . . .” I paused, searching for the right words. “He needs to feel something because I’m hurting, and I want him to hurt too.”

  I stopped for a second, realizing how awful and immature my words sounded, but I refused to take them back. They were the truth.

  “And I know it’s probably dumb. Like I shouldn’t feel like this over someone I barely know,” I admitted, hating how weak I sounded and felt. “I feel like I’m mourning a loss or something.”

  “It’s not dumb. You liked him. You wanted to date him. Of course you’re hurting and grieving. You did lose something tonight.”

  Once again, Britney was right. I had liked Frank, and I had wanted to date him. Until tonight, he’d represented possibility and hope, two things I hadn’t had with a man in a really long time.

  “You know, I never even asked if he had a girlfriend, but I assumed that if he was spending time with me that he didn’t have one. It didn’t even occur to me. And it’s not like we were hiding. We hung out in his bar. Anyone could have seen us.” I replayed in my head the moments we’d spent together, even though there were only a few, and I felt so foolish.

  “It’s all of those reasons why I think there really might be more to the story. You should talk to him.”

  “I don’t want to talk to him,” I insisted, and I meant it. I didn’t want to hear Frank’s explanation or reasons. None of it changed the truth or altered the situation in any way. “I don’t want to talk to any of them.” I pushed up from the couch and stretched my arms over my head.

  “There’s no way Frank just disappears on you and doesn’t explain things. Not a chance in hell that he ghosts you,” Britney insisted, referring to the way guys would stop returning texts and phone calls like they had never existed in the first place.

  “Does it really matter? He has a girlfriend, Britney. I don’t care what he does.”

  “There isn’t any part of you that wants an explanation from him? Because I do, and it wasn’t even me he was dating.”

  “He wasn’t dating me either,” I said softly before shaking my head, too many thoughts racing through my mind, refusing to cut me any slack. They were exhausting. “I need to sleep so I can stop thinking about all of this.”

  “Okay. For the record, I’m really sorry. I didn’t see this coming at all.”

  I swallowed hard as her face became blurry. “Me either.”

  I felt so vulnerable and naive. Should I have seen it coming? Was there something I missed that was so blaringly obvious that I had simply overlooked it?

  No. I refused to take the blame for this. Frank was the one in the wrong here, not me.

  Then why did I feel like I was the only one paying the price?

  The Ugly Truth

  Claudia

  When I woke up early the next morning after a restless night, the reality of what had happened with Frank crashed back into me at full force. My alarm went off and I smacked it into silence, half wishing that I could call in sick to work today, but knowing that I wouldn’t. Not for something like this.

  Reaching for my cell phone, I was surprised to see that it was off. I never turned my phone completely off at night, and I searched my mind trying to remember exactly when I’d done it. I came up empty as I waited for it to turn back on, the screen practically blinding me with its brightness as it did. When it had fully come to life, it was devoid of any new text messages or voice-mail notifications.

  Frank hadn’t even attempted to reach out to me. Last night I’d said I hadn’t wanted him to, but this morning I found myself bitterly disappointed that I wasn’t worthy of an explanation or an apology.

  Don’t I deserve one?

  Hell, don’t I deserve both?

  Kicking at the covers with my feet, I pulled myself out of bed and rubbed my hands over my face and through my hair. I stumbled into my bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror, my swollen eyes revealing the truth of just how much I’d cried last night. As I splashed cold water onto my face, I reveled in the relief that it momentarily brought before it turned lukewarm.

  Last night I’d been angry and hurt, the two emotions warring for first place in my mind and my heart, but this morning brought about a whole new level of emotion. The anger had dissipated slightly, and I found myself swimming in a sea of sadness. I had really liked Frank and thought we were in the beginning stages of something good between us, albeit at a snail’s pace. Regardless, I had been invested.

  When I glanced at my phone again and saw the notification screen was still blank, I tu
rned it facedown and hopped into the shower to get ready for work. I was suddenly thankful that it was a weekday and that I could focus my attention on something other than Frank and his jerk-like behavior. A distraction would be good, and work was the best kind of distraction because I got paid for it.

  “Hey, I know it’s your turn to drive, but I’m driving today,” Britney said as I headed into the living room with my car keys in my hand. “No arguments.”

  I nodded, thankful for her offer. It was a simple gesture, but it was that type of kindness that made all the difference in moments like these. She knew I wasn’t all there mentally today, and that was no way to operate a vehicle in the heavy Los Angeles traffic.

  “No word from him?” she finally asked as we drove. She’d probably been holding the question in since she’d woken up.

  “Nothing.” Even I could hear how disappointed I sounded. My tone mirrored my heart.

  “He’ll reach out today. I know it.” Her tone was certain, but I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  “I checked my phone this morning— Never mind. It’s stupid.”

  Britney shot me a frustrated glance. “Say it.”

  I let out a long sigh. “I expected there to at least be a text from him, if not a voice mail. I didn’t hope or want there to be one; I knew that there would be. Because there was no way that Frank would go all night without checking on me, or seeing if I was okay, or apologizing, right? But I was wrong. So wrong.”

  Voicing all those thoughts out loud, admitting them to someone else, it forced me to realize more than I wanted to. I had expected Frank to reach out to me because I assumed that he had more than friendly feelings for me. I still had more than friendly feelings for him. Right now, in this moment, after everything, I still liked him.

  She nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. “I would think the same thing if I was in your position.”

  “You would?”

  “Hell yes! Are you kidding? Of course I’d expect a text message from him. Of course I’d expect him to check on me and give a shit about my feelings and my general well-being. It’s awful that he hasn’t apologized or tried to talk to you, and it’s making me not like him, if you want to know the truth.” She glanced at me, her expression fierce.

 

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