Page 83 of Married With Lies

To my surprise, he doesn’t. He stares at me for a very long, very penetrating moment, then says, “Yes.”

Cale doesn’t command me to keep this a secret. He implicitly trusts that I’ll do so without being told. That level of confidence puts me in a sharing mood.

After setting the bag of scones on the coffee table, I walk over to the couch and sit down, pulling my knees up and hugging them. Cale sees this is a cue to join me on the couch and I wait for him to settle in before speaking.

“I never told you much about Grant,” I say. “But since we’re married, I feel like I owe you the story of why my ex is my ex.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Sadie. But I’m listening.”

I take a deep breath. “First, I need you to promise something.”

He raises an eyebrow and waits.

“I need you to promise that you will engage in no acts of retaliation.”

Cale sits up straighter and a spark of anger lights up his eyes. “If that motherfucker did something to hurt you I’ll-”

“Shush.” I clap my hand over his mouth. “None of that.” I take my hand away and wiggle my pinky. “Swear it.”

He scowls at my finger. “What?”

“Pinky swear. It’s the most binding promise on earth.”

“You want me to pinky swear that I won’t tear Grant Gallant’s throat out?”

“Yes please.”

He sighs. “Mercedes.”

“Carmine. It’s not what you think. Now pinky swear.”

He lets out a cross between a groan and a growl. But he grudgingly extends his hand and lets me hook his pinky finger.

“Glad that’s settled.” I release his hand and get comfortable. “I haven’t even told every detail to Gus. You’re hearing it first.”

He hasn’t completely lost his scowl but I have faith in the power of the pinky swear.

“Okay, I’ve known Grant forever. He’s three years older but whenever his family was around we kind of got thrown together. His mother even used to joke that one day we’d get married. We never dated until my last year of college. We had plenty of fun, at least for a while. And it was a nice change to be the temporary recipient of my father’s approval. I think that’s why I overlooked a lot, like how our plans always centered Grant, even our long term plans. It took time for me to understand that I was losing more of myself every day. I’m sure I would have eventually called the engagement off. He just accelerated the timeline with what he did.”

Cale hasn’t moved a muscle. “What exactly did he do?”

Considering my recent brush with shame and infamy, I shouldn’t feel flustered over confessing my darkest secret to Cale. As secrets go, I’m sure other people, including Cale, keep far more disturbing ones. It’s the humiliation factor that’s bugging me.

I pick at a loose thread on my baggy lounge pants and assemble the words before looking up to meet Cale’s eyes. “He recorded me. Well, recorded us. Being, you know, intimate. Without my knowledge. And then he shared the videos. I only found out because he accidentally sent me a link to a forum where he’d posted them.”

I don’t even realize how emotional I’m getting until I feel a tear slip down my cheek.

“Needless to say, I freaked out. We were already engaged. Grant panicked and was full of apologies. He took the videos down and said he’d destroyed all the footage. But when I promptly dumped him he got nasty. I was too embarrassed to tell everyone what really happened. To make matters worse, Grant has implied that he still has the videos. And that he can post them anytime he decides to.”

Cale stands up and walks away. I’m really confused until he returns seconds later with a box of tissues. Gently, he removes a tissue from the box and dabs at the tears on my cheeks. His mouth is set in a grim line but I have no doubt he’s fuming over this revelation. The gesture is so tender and caring that now I’m just falling for him harder than ever.

Falling for him.

Yes, I can’t help it. I’m crazy about my husband. This was never part of our deal but my hormones don’t care about deals. They just want to jump into Cale’s lap.

Cale hands me the tissue box. I take a deep breath.

“So now you know the sordid truth about why I’m not Mrs. Gallant’s Steakhouse. And I trust that your pinky swear won’t be broken.”

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