Page 26 of Starving for Her

Layla

“See,this is why I’m able to make the money I make, girl,” Gina says. “Because men are disgusting liars who only care about one thing. I’m sorry to be that blunt; I know you really liked the guy, but it’s the truth.”

Really liked the guy?I know Gina’s trying to be helpful, but her words fall flat as we sit on her couch together. Like doesn’t even begin to express the feelings I had for James. And honestly, the feelings I still have. And that’s why this hurts so much.

“I mean—a secret kid?” she continues. “In another world, that might be a great start to a romance novel—if you were the one with his kid and you hadn’t told him about it because you weren’t sure he would be a good dad, of course. But him hiding that from you? What a fucking jerk.”

“Could you not?” I ask her, wiping a fresh tear from my cheeks.

“Not what?”

“Not talk about him like that?” I say. “I just—I’m not ready to talk shit about him yet.”

“Why not!?” she exclaims. “The guy lied to you, cheated on you with his ex, and has a secret son he didn’t tell you about. Do you know what kind of shit storm you just avoided? Better to get out now than find all this out in a year or two.”

She’s right of course, but that doesn’t make this any easier. I’ve been locked in her apartment for the past day and a half with my phone off and hidden somewhere by her so I can’t find it and check my texts. I don’t know if he’s even bothered trying to send me any, but I do know that if he has, and I read them, I’ll probably have a complete mental breakdown.

I was barely able to drive home after Becky told me the details of their relationship; how he’d dumped her after she told him she was pregnant, then came crawling back six months after she gave birth. They’d been sleeping together ever since, which meant that whenever he was “at the office,” he was balls deep in her, then coming home to fuck me…

I wanted to vomit. I wanted to beat her senseless, even though it wasn’t any more her fault than it was mine. We both bought into his bullshit, only she had more reason to believe he’d actually commit to her in the end. I mean—they have a kid together.

“I know you’re right, Gina,” I say with a sigh. “But I just…I need some time before I can start saying mean things about him.”

“You were only with him for three weeks, girl. It’s not like you were engaged or anything.”

“I know, Gina!” I exclaim with frustration. “And three weeks isn’t that long, but…it felt like more. So much more.”

I feel her looking at me, but can’t face her. I feel like an idiot.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” she asks. “I mean—really.”

I nod, feeling my eyes well up again. I tilt my head back to the ceiling and try to blink them away.

“I mean…we never said it,” I say softly. “But I’m pretty sure we both wanted to.”

“I don’t want to be a jerk, babe, but you might have wanted to. I’m not so sure he did.”

I want to slap her for saying that, but I swallow my rage and keep it inside. I’m still defensive when it comes to James, and even though he broke my heart, I still feel the urge to protect him. I can talk about him. No one else.

I stand up and walk quickly to the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Gina asks. I ignore her and start rummaging through her things. She comes in behind me as I’m going through her drawers.

“You’re not gonna find it,” she tells me as I keep looking. “You told me to hide it from you.”

“I need to read his texts,” I reply. “Tear the band-aid off. If I read them in a week, I’ll just go through all of this again.”

“Don’t,” she says. “I’ll delete them all for you and block his number.”

That’s probably a good idea, but I can’t let her do it; I want to read what he’s sent me, no matter what it is. I check under her mattress and the top shelf of her closet, but she’s right; it’s nowhere to be found. I turn around and give her “the look.” She frowns.

“Are you sure about this, babe? Could be a really bad idea.”

“I’m sure,” I tell her. She doesn’t move. “Just give me my phone, Gina!”

“Fine,” she replies. “On one condition. You don’t go running back to him just because he’s written you a fucking romantic sonnet or promised to be good to you again. Okay?”

I twist my lips, then slowly nod. “Fine. Deal.”