by Lexi Ryan
I blink at her. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I miss our life.” She reaches for me, then drops her hands to her sides. “I miss our marriage.”
For months and months after she moved out, I waited for her to come home and say those words. For more than a year, I let myself believe that what we had, what our marriage had been, was good enough for me. But I know better now. I see what she saw all along. “Amy . . .” I hang my head. “You were right to leave.”
She draws in a shaky breath. “I was stupid.”
When I lift my head and meet her eyes, I know I have to say the words I promised myself so long ago I wouldn’t. “If our relationship were truly all you needed, you wouldn’t have had an affair.”
Her eyes go wide and she stumbles backward. “What?”
“I know you had an affair with Clint. It was never Stella. It was you. And she knew about it, didn’t she? That’s why you started telling me all those things about her. You were afraid she’d tell me, and you didn’t want me to believe her.”
Amy’s eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t want her to destroy our family.”
I scoff. “No. You didn’t want me to find out you had already destroyed it.” I look away, because it’s too hard to reconcile what I understand now with the woman I thought she was. God, it’s all so obvious. The way Amy suddenly didn’t want me to touch her anymore. I thought it was motherhood, that she was too tired and run-down from working all day and then coming home and trying to make up for all those lost hours with Hope.
When I turn back to her, she’s staring at me, her expression desperate. “I did it for us.” She swallows. “Clint was always flirting with me. I told you that.”
“Yeah, but somehow you left out the part where you were fucking him.”
“You and Dean were on the verge of losing your business. Without that promotion, I wouldn’t have been able to give the company a loan. I did it for us.”
I shake my head. There’s a gaping hole in my chest—not because I want my wife back but because I’m realizing I spent years married to a woman I don’t even know. Because I spent years lying to myself about what we had. “You did it for yourself.” I swallow back the hurt and betrayal. “And I don’t know whether it was for pleasure or because you wanted to be the hero, but if you knew me at all, you’d have known I’d rather lose the company and work some mind-numbing desk job for the rest of my life before sleeping next to a woman who’d betray me like that.” I squeeze my eyes shut, but there’s a storm happening in my mind, casting every happy family memory under the pall of her choices. “Did I somehow make you think my business was more important to me than our marriage?”
“No.” She shakes her head, blond curls bouncing.
“Did Clint force you?” I remember Stella’s description of how he put his hand up her skirt, tried to touch her without her consent. “Was he—”
“No.” Tears roll down her cheeks, and she blows out a breath. “I liked the attention, okay? He made me feel sexy and wanted for the first time since Hope was born.”
I flinch. I did everything in my power to make her feel those things. I failed.
“I don’t think I would’ve done anything if it weren’t for the job. We needed the money, Kace.”
“The job gave you an excuse to do what you wanted to do, and then when Stella found out, you decided to run a smear campaign to make sure I’d never trust her.”
She swallows. “You don’t understand. I was terrified I’d lose you and Hope. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but in my mind it was a temporary transgression, and you and I would have a better life because of it.”
I drop into a chair and cradle my head in my hands. “I’ve spent years blaming myself. I couldn’t figure out where I went wrong. Why you wouldn’t let me touch you anymore, why you withdrew . . .”
“I made a mistake. A terrible mistake.” Her gentle features twist into ugly rage. “I can’t believe she told you. But you know what? She’s made mistakes too. She’s in online porn, Kace. Why do you think I’m so against her being around my daughter? That stuff never goes away. It’ll haunt her for the rest of her life.”
My head snaps up, and I hear screeching tires in my mind as I replay Amy’s words. “Online porn?”
“Yes! Oh my God, she tries to act like it’s not there, but it is. The internet is forever, as they say.”
I didn’t find out until he’d broken up with me that he’d uploaded them to all kinds of amateur porn sites.
The room tilts off balance. Itsy was so scared to tell me that secret, but she forced herself to do it because she thought it could ruin us, and she needed to know how I felt about it before we got any closer. And I made things exclusive with Stella, only to have her pull away that same night . . .
Fuck. I feel like someone just pulled back a curtain, and what I should’ve known all along is plain as day before me. Itsy . . . Stella is Itsy. Itsy is Stella. It’s so obvious that I’d laugh if it weren’t also a disaster. Why didn’t she tell me?
I close my eyes and drag a hand over my face. I told her the other woman I was seeing had shared more about herself with me and that it was a deal breaker. I didn’t specify what, but Stella knew I was talking about those videos. She knew, because she’d just confided it the night before.
I have so many questions, and I don’t understand how this happened, but it’s obvious now why she’s pushed me away. Why she knew things I’d told Itsy.
“You understand,” Amy says softly. “You deserve better than someone like that.”
“You don’t know her at all. There isn’t anyone better than Stella—not for me.” I swallow the lump of emotion in my throat. It was one thing to not understand why she was pushing me away, but it’s another entirely to know why she did. I don’t blame her a bit. “As for those videos of her? I’m disappointed you’d use something like that as ammunition.” My lips twist in disgust. “I thought you were better than that.”
Her mouth works for a minute, making her look like a fish out of water before she finally finds her words. “That was our deal. If she told you about Clint, I’d tell the world what I’d learned about her.”
“She didn’t tell me about Clint. I figured it out myself.”
She pales. “How?”
I huff out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I suspected there was someone long before you moved out.” I swallow. How fucked up am I that I ignored those instincts? That I would’ve rather lived a lie than lose something that was already broken? “I was never sure, but I didn’t want to be, so I told myself I was wrong. That my suspicions were totally off-base. I didn’t want to lose you.”
“It was a mistake, and I’d never let it happen again. I just—”
“You want someone to take care of you.”
She shrugs. “Is that a crime?”
“But you don’t want me, Amy. Don’t you see the difference?”
She opens her mouth to speak then snaps it shut again.
“Be honest with me—with yourself—did you feel anything when you kissed me just now?”
“I wanted to.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I really did.”
“What do you want from me?”
Her entire face crumples as she sobs. “I want to keep my family. I want us to be okay. Please don’t hate me. Don’t keep my daughter from me.”
“Hey.” I stand and pull her into my arms. Shit. She curls into my chest, shaking. “I don’t hate you, Amy, and I’m not going to keep Hope from her mother.”
When she pulls back, her face is red and streaked with tears. “I’d hate you if you did this to me.”
I grunt. There’s some honesty, at least. “I didn’t say I’m not angry. I don’t like you very much at the moment. That doesn’t mean I’d keep you from Hope. You weren’t a very good wife, but you’re a great mom.”
“Maybe we could try again,” she says, her words squeaking a little. She pulls out of my arms and studies me. “Maybe we could make
it work now that the truth is out there.”
“I don’t want to.” If this whole thing weren’t so fucked, I’d laugh to hear myself say those words. I’ve wasted a year of my life waiting for Amy. Our marriage was over the minute she decided sleeping with her boss was a good idea. “I don’t hate you, but I don’t want to be with you, either.”
She flinches. “I understand. I betrayed you, and you can’t be expected to forgive—”
“I’m in love with Stella.”
Her eyes go wide. “Oh.” She nods. “Right, well, who didn’t see that coming?”
“Ames . . .”
“No. It’s fine, Kace. I’m happy for you. I just . . .” More tears spill down her cheeks, and she backs away. “I know what it feels like to be loved by you, and I know what it feels like to throw that away because life’s left you . . . discontent. I just hope she’s not an idiot like I was.”
I shake my head. “Nah. I’m the idiot here. I fucked up.”
“Then apologize.” She shakes her head. “The path that made me lose you—lose our marriage—it started with one kiss. One kiss in the boardroom at the end of a long day. He just touched his lips to mine and told me I was beautiful, told me he’d like to spend more time with me. I went home and convinced myself I couldn’t tell you about it, convinced myself I could turn something bad into something good, justified a whole affair. After that, nothing was ever the same between you and me.” She touches my cheek. “Don’t be like me. Don’t let the small mistake turn into something you two can never recover from.”
“It’s not that small,” I whisper. And it’s not my first mistake, either. What I said about her to Itsy in the beginning—that was my first mistake. Or maybe my first mistake was thinking my attraction to Stella was ever just physical.
“Did you cheat on her? Did you break your vows?”
I blow out a breath. “Obviously not.”
“Then fix it, Kace.”
“What about Dean? Are you going to apologize to him? Are you going to fix that?”
She turns her head and studies the wall. “I don’t want that. He’s the one who wants more. He knew I wasn’t looking for anything but no-strings fun.”
“You can’t have no-strings fun with someone you already have feelings for,” I say. And it’s another truth that’s so obvious now it’s been laid out there. “When there are already strings, pretending there aren’t just makes a tangled mess.”
“But I never had—”
“He did. And fuck, Amy, you and I used to talk about the way he looked at you, how badly my best friend was crushing on my wife. So don’t pretend you didn’t know.”
“I liked the way he looked at me,” she whispers. “And I know that makes me selfish, but I’ve been lonely.”
“Give it to him straight, and then get out of his life.” I see her so clearly now, and I’m disappointed that she’s not a better woman. “Don’t drag it out like you did with me.”
Grimacing, she nods. “Good luck with Stella.” She walks away, and . . . it doesn’t hurt. She’s not tearing out my heart as she goes. She’s leaving room for something new.
“Daddy, Uncle Dean is here!” Hope says from the front window. She knows she’s not allowed to answer the door without me, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting to be the first to know who’s here.
“Thanks, kiddo.” Fucking finally. I texted him hours ago telling him I needed him to come over so we could talk. I pull open the front door and immediately burst into laughter.
Dean Jacob is standing on my front porch with a bouquet of flowers and three Mylar balloons with the words I’m sorry printed on them. “These are for you,” he says, a lopsided smile twisting his lips.
“What the hell?”
“Not ’posed to say hell, Daddy,” Hope says, scooting in front of me to get to her favorite honorary uncle. “Pretty flowers!”
“Just call it a bromantic gesture, and don’t give me any more shit about it, okay? You wanted me to come over. I thought I should be prepared to grovel.” He stoops to his haunches and whispers to Hope, “Tell your dad to take them and ask me in. I feel pretty silly out here.”
I grab the flowers from his hands and turn into the house. “Come on in, you weirdo.”
His steps echo behind mine as I lead the way to the kitchen. I set the flowers on the island before returning my attention to my friend.
Dean hands the balloons to Hope, who accepts them with jaw-gaping awe. “Thank you!”
“I am sorry,” Dean says softly when we’re finally eye to eye. “I handled everything terribly, and I wouldn’t blame you for hating me forever, but I hope you’ll forgive me instead.” His jaw tightens as he tilts his face up to the ceiling. “If she’d been mine, I’d certainly take issue with you sleeping with her after we broke up.”
I shake my head and try to figure out where to start. “Three things. First, you did handle it terribly. You should’ve been upfront with me.” I sigh. “But second, I feel pretty bad for your brokenhearted ass, so I’m not going to make you grovel too much.”
“Thanks,” he mutters. “I don’t deserve that.”
“How are you holding up?”
He shrugs. “I don’t feel like I should complain to you about how your ex broke my heart, so maybe we should just skip that part?”
“I’m sorry. She . . .” I shake my head. “She’s not as perfect as I always thought she was.”
“I could’ve told you that a long time ago,” he says, looking at his shoes, “but I never wanted her because I thought she was perfect.” He rolls his shoulders back and lifts his head. “And the third thing?” he asks, looking like he’s bracing himself for the swing of my fist.
“Third, I’m in love with your sister, and I want you to help me get her back.”
His eyes go wide. “You’re not gonna hurt her again?”
I swallow. “I never meant to hurt her the first time, but I was an idiot and didn’t realize she was the one I was talking to online, and . . .” The rest of his words sink in. “You already knew? How? Did Stella say something?” Did she tell you how I can fix this? Do you think I have a chance?
“Yeah, I knew. A couple of weeks ago, she found out your sister had swapped her picture on Random with that pic of Jessica Rabbit, realized you hadn’t known who you were talking to all that time, and completely flipped out. She cried so much she about flooded my living room.” He punches me in the shoulder. Hard. “Bastard.”
I rub the throbbing ache, open my mouth to defend myself, then snap it shut again. “You . . . knew all this time? And you haven’t kicked my ass yet?”
His mouth hitches into a crooked grin. “I wanted to, but Stella swore me to secrecy.” He opens the fridge and pulls out a beer, pops off the cap, and takes a long pull. “And anyway, it’s not like I had a leg to stand on, considering what I had going on with Amy.”
Shit. I blow out a breath. “How much do you know?”
“Just that she told you some secret online, and you didn’t want anything to do with the online version of her after you found out.”
It’s not exactly that simple. I loved so many things about Itsy, but since I didn’t know she was Stella when she told me that secret, since I thought I needed to choose between her and Stella, it was easy to walk away. It wouldn’t be honest to pretend that secret wouldn’t scare me off a stranger. But Stella’s not a stranger. She’s the woman I love, and her secrets aren’t deal breakers. They’re part of who she is.
“And, listen, I don’t really understand how you two got yourself in such a mess to begin with, but I can’t stand seeing my baby sister this sad. Now that you know she’s Itsy, can you please just . . . fix it?”
I swallow. “I want to.”
“When she talks about this secret—whatever it is—do you know what she’s referring to?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice rough.
“You said it was a deal breaker. Is it? Because I can’t help you if you’re going to put her throug
h that again.”
“It’s not. Maybe it would be with someone else, but it gave me an excuse to choose Stella.” I shake my head. “I still don’t understand what happened. Abbi changed Stella’s profile pic?”
“Yeah, so when you swiped on Jessica Rabbit, Stella thought you’d swiped on her normal profile picture and assumed you knew who you were talking to. It wasn’t until Abbi fessed up that she realized she was the ‘other woman’ you’d mentioned. And at that point, she knew how you felt about her secret. She didn’t want to tell you the truth until she could move out, and then she didn’t want to tell you because she was so embarrassed.”
“And now she’s gone and wants nothing to do with me,” I finish.
Dean grimaces. “I don’t think that’s true. She doesn’t want to own up to whatever it is she told you. How she feels about you hasn’t changed.” He drains his beer and tosses it in the trash. “Do I wanna know what this secret is?”
I shake my head. “Not all secrets need to be shared with the world. You’re better off not knowing this one.”
“What are you gonna do?”
I grab a beer for myself and think of Stella as I take a long drink. “I think I have an idea.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Stella
GoodHands69: I know we don’t talk anymore, but I could use a friend right now.
I blow out a slow breath and read it again, hearing the words in Kace’s voice and feeling a little more heartsick. I keep telling myself I’m going to delete my account. But I never do. And this is exactly why. I hoped he might eventually message me again.
“What is it?” Savvy asks softly.
I’m sitting at her kitchen table and gathering information Abbi’s lawyer friend needs while Savvy futzes around in the kitchen. When I moved out of the pool house, we took all my furniture to a storage unit, and I moved into Savvy’s with two suitcases, a pillow, and a broken heart. Her couch isn’t the worst I’ve slept on, but I sure hope I can find a long-term solution soon.