Page 71 of Married to the Frenemy

“For starters, how I’m the reason he spent a year behind bars and has a felony record.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

She eyes me suspiciously, then sets her coffee cup on the table and squares her shoulders, devoting her full attention to me.

“Okay. What really happened all those years ago? I heard the rumors, but I never knew what to believe. I wasn’t around since I was away at college, but I heard about Beckham’s arrest. And how you were injured when you tried to intervene. Is that why you think you’re responsible? Because?—”

“I didn’t intervene. Not like all the reports made it sound.”

“Then what happened?”

I draw in a steadying breath, unsure if I’m ready to tell her the entire story. No one knows the truth about the events leading up to me being hospitalized and Beckham being sent to prison. My parents made sure of that.

“It was just supposed to be a summer fling,” I finally admit, nervously tapping my fingernails against the black metal table. “Growing up, my nanny was good friends with Beckham’s mama. Every so often, she’d take me to their house and we’d play together. Or Beckham’s mother would bring all her kids to the lake and we’d play at the beach. He was probably my best friend back then, even if we annoyed the shit out of each other.” A nostalgic smile tugs at my lips from the memory of those early days.

“When I was older, I didn’t need a nanny anymore, so we didn’t see each other much. My parents lived in Tahoe and didn’t come out this way very often, if at all. Our worlds rarely intersected.”

“But they eventually did?” Parker prodded.

“The summer before college.”

“What happened?”

“I started to feel suffocated by my parents and how they were dictating everything about my life, from where I went to college to who I should date. When one of my close friends mentioned ditching a stuffy graduation party and sneaking out to Kaplan Farm, I was more than willing to defy my parents, even if I’d pay for it later.”

“That had to be culture shock for you,” Parker remarks, more than aware of Kaplan Farm’s reputation for parties, even to this day.

“It certainly was,” I agree with a laugh. “Up until then, the only parties I’d been to had been catered events thrown by my parents or one of their wealthy friends. A party at a cow pasture with kegs and loud music? It was like nothing I’d ever experienced but everything I needed at the same time.”

“And that’s where you saw Beckham again?” Parker prompts after a beat.

“At first, I didn’t even recognize him. He looked so different from the scrawny boy I remembered. And the way he looked at me when he realized who I was…” An unexpected shiver trickles down my spine. “No one had ever looked at me like that. And then…”

“Yes?”

“He asked me a question no one ever had.”

“What’s that?”

“He asked if I was happy.” My voice catches with emotion. “Before that night, I didn’t think it mattered. Thought it was my duty to do whatever my parents asked of me. Just like I rode horses for show, and excelled in fencing, and practiced piano for hours every day. I didn’t do any of those things because they made me happy. I did them because it’s what my parents expected of me. And I resented Beckham for seeing right through me. How could this man who barely knew me see me so clearly, yet the people who purported to love me couldn’t see how miserable I was? I’d never admit that to him, though, so I stormed off. But Beckham wouldn’t let it go.”

Enraptured by my story, Parker leans closer, resting her chin on her hands. “What did he do?”

“He came over to my house in the middle of the night. Threw pebbles at my window. I don’t know how he remembered which one was mine, but he did. When I opened the window, he managed to climb a nearby tree and sneak into my room. He apologized for upsetting me. Then we stayed up all night long talking. It was the first of many nights he’d climb through my bedroom window that summer.”

“I’m guessing your parents didn’t approve.”

I snort a laugh. “They didn’t even know about him. Or us. They couldn’t. Not only was his family poor, at least according to their standards, but Beckham was notorious for getting into fights. I understood it, though. He was going through a rough time with his dad being diagnosed with ALS. At first, he said he was okay sneaking around. We kept things casual since we were both going off to college in the fall. At least, we were supposed to. But as time went on, he got more and more frustrated that he couldn’t be seen with me in public. That I refused to stand up for myself.”

“You were only eighteen.” Parker gives my hand a squeeze.

“If I had, so much could have been avoided.”

She tilts her head. “How so?”

“Since I didn’t want my parents to find out about Beckham, I compensated by doing whatever they asked of me. That includes going on dates with the guy they kept shoving at me.”

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