Page 207 of The Last Good Man

Who would?

“Why, Jax?”

He remains silent, mulling over something while I try to speculate. The truth is,Idon’t know the intricacies of his life.

He’s made his decisions as I have made mine, thinking about what serves me well.

Why would I expect something different from him?

He searches my eyes as Iseem unable toconceal what’s in my soul.

“Before you judge me…” he says, “and discount my choices, makesure you know who your other men are.”

My other men?

He goes on.

“You think you set the bar high, yet you’re afraid to get a good look at them. And you need a shrink to help you do that?”

My heart stops.

Has he gotten his hands on Aretha Stenson’s notes about my life?

Or is he that intuitive?

“You’re running in circles, evading the truth. That’s what you do, Melody. You know the truth about us, yet you can’tmove pastyour fears. In your defense, you’re conditioned to act that way. I didn’t want to hurt you. I swear to God, I didn’t want to. And I know it’s not about the money. I may not have a job, but I make my money. It’s you being afraid of life and yourself. So… Before you run to yourdoctorand cry in a corner because I’m not wearing a suit and going to a job every day, let me help you with that. I do what I do and try to stay out of trouble. I have people to protect. People I love. Youwereone of those people. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their lives. They’re all I have. I can't speed up the process if you can’t see us for who we are. I can’t help you in that way. But I’ll give you something else. The man you held in high regard, Thomas Everett, is seeing prostitutes while dating women like you. Not one at a time but two at a time. And they know about each other, as they come from the same agency. So he’s having his sexual needs met while maintaining absolute control over them and pursuing women like you. Women he sees as trophies. The jerk across the hallway, your neighbor, is not much different. He likescallgirls more than he likes to give you sweet lies over dinner in the hopes of getting laid. These men… The mature men you’re seeking who are pushing forty or are past that milestone are single for a reason. No one sits on a burning desire to have a family while spending time with prostitutes and talking some woman’s ear off for drinks and sex. I’m sure you’ve suspected that all along, but somehowyoucouldn’tmake yourselfstep away from the paradigm of the perfect man versus the man who was simply good for you.”

Every word he says is a nugget of wisdom I never thought I’d have delivered to me so bluntly.

“For the record, I didn’t plan to break it to you so harshly, but I thought it was necessary since your fuck boy was at the door, fussing with you, and the other one was missing in action. There’s no point in talking about the French fluff who strutted like a peacock, making weird demands. I think I’m done…” he says.

He gives me a soft nod, and without another word, he exits my place.

39

MELODY

Thursday

Twenty-four hours passed, and I still feel like shit, although I’m sure it wasn’t his intention.

He said what he said because we’d gotten to a point where it became unavoidable.

All this time, I thought I had it right.

I was who I was and couldn’t change that. I thought it was about fate and luck and all that crap. Something I needed to learn to find the best man.

When, in fact, it was a ‘me’ problem.

I needed to unlearn everything I knew about myself and replace my beliefs.

But even if I embrace new beliefs, living with Jax is still a dangerous proposition, so how am I supposed to reconcile these two?

It doesn’t matter.

It might not matter, as we have hit a roadblock, and I’m not sure there is a path forward.

Last night felt like Isleptin razor wire, and work felt like Isluggedthrough mud, so my session with Aretha couldn’t come soon enough.

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