Page 67 of One Little Victory
“Fuck, that’s what I’m talking about. But we can leave out the secrets.” She narrowed her eyes, then turned and looked out the window, tugging at the loose collar of her sweater.
“I don’t think so. Nana only breaks out the imported gin when she needs to loosen someone’s tongue. How do you think she found out about my—”
Anxiety.
I cut off my words and removed my hand from her thigh, pushing my hair out of my face and grinding my teeth.
“No, Simon. You’re pushing to know what my big, bad, deep, dark secret is but won’t share with me? How hypocritical can you get?” Her voice was carefully controlled as she turned her head back to me, a switch flipping from the flirty, sassy mood she was in moments ago. Nothing was amiss with her body language, but I could see the rigidness of her back and how she clenched and released the hand resting in her lap.
As much as I wasn’t ready to have this conversation, we’d been heading toward it like a derailed train, and a part of me was relieved. Once I knew what the big fucking mystery was, I could reassure her and we could move the hell on. Whether it be a shitty ex or some other insecurity, I’d grown too attached to give up on us. Call me a sappy, sentimental fool. I’d wear the badge proudly if it meant finally getting past whatever bullshit held us back.
“It’s not that, honey. I’m fucking crazy about you. Can’t you see that? I want to date you, really date you. Not some half-ass version of whatever we’re doing. I want to meet your mother and have your father give me the you’re not good enough for my little girl speech.”
I pressed down on the gas, speeding through a yellow light and turning too fast onto the interstate, in no mood to take roads with a forty-mile-per-hour speed limit. As my anxiousness increased, so did my anger, and I snaked one hand down to my thigh and tapped rhythmic patterns on my fingers, trying to steady my pulse.
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”
“Then fucking tell me what the problem is! Is it me? Do you have an aversion to pasty guys with skinny ankles and anger issues?” I said, pushing my goddamn hair out of my face again.
“Fine. You asked for it.”
She yanked on her seatbelt and maneuvered herself to face me. Her eyes blazed, tempting me to pull over so I could give her my undivided attention, but I didn’t want to halt the conversation.
“This—you and me,” she began, gesturing between us with her fingers then fanning her face. I cracked the windows, letting in the cool air, and she nodded, removing a tie from her wrist and pulling her hair into a knot on her head. “Was never supposed to be anything more than a way for me to take over my family’s business. But there you were with your gray eyes and cocky attitude, breaking down all the walls I’d built around my heart.”
“If the—”
“Let me talk, please.”
I nodded and pressed my lips together, glad for the cool air on my damp neck.
“The walls were there for a reason. When I was twenty-two, I ran into my first crush at a hotel bar. I had a feeling he was still married, even though he said he wasn’t. It turns out he was lying, the shady fuck.”
She paused and shook her head as my stomach sank.
“I slept with him anyway, finding out the next day not only was he married, but his wife was pregnant.”
Fucking balls. Did she know he was married? No, I can’t believe that.
My face blanched, and I covered my mouth with my hand, changing lanes so I wouldn’t miss her exit.
“So you—”
“Fucked a married man? Yep. My friends convinced me I wasn’t a piece of shit a month or so later, so I joined a dating app. Not Tinder or anything. One you had to pay for and take a bunch of personality quizzes before they would match you with anyone. So, my first date is going great, right? The guy is nice, charming, pays for dinner. We go home together. Sex was subpar.”
My shoulders tensed as I merged and turned right, slowing down to five over the speed limit. I couldn’t look at her head-on, so I settled for fleeting glances of her lips, watching as she wetted and re-wetted them with her tongue.
“That guy turned out to be Stacy Carter’s fiancé, looking for a few flings before the wedding. She’s the reporter who wrote the article. Oh, and the married guy is my intern’s business professor. So, that was a fun reunion.” Addison gave a harsh laugh and swiped under her eyes, leaning back against the door, so her body still faced me.
I reached to touch her but pulled my hand away and laid it back on the steering wheel. The car felt constrained, and I rolled the windows down further, pulling at my tie to loosen its chokehold on my neck.
“So it happened—”
“Twice. Yeah. That’s a pattern I refuse to repeat by being in a long-term relationship. The terrifying thing about undiscovered lies, Simon, is they can degrade more than those out in the open. They erode our strength and our core values. I refuse to have you always look at me the way you are now.”
“What?” I said, slamming down my mask of indifference as I pulled onto her street. “I’m not looking at you any differently.”
As the words left my lips, I knew they were a lie—and so did she. I wasn’t sure if I saw her as a cheater, but did I still see the same person?