Page 57 of A Constant Reminder

Instead, he said, “Are you about ready to get out of here? I can’t look at you in that dress for much longer.” Desire burned in his gaze.

“Take me home, Trust Fund.”

We walked over to say a quick goodbye to his family even though his mother still acted like I didn’t exist. I was tempted to give her a bit of Midwestern hell, but I didn’t think it was the appropriate time or place.

Tyler walked up to say a final goodbye to an older gentleman I didn’t recognize. They greeted one another with a firm handshake, and Tyler pulled an envelope out of his breast pocket and handed it to the man who gave his ample thanks.

As we walked away, I asked, “What was that?”

“My donation.”

“Doesn’t your family make a large donation?” I asked.

“Yes, but I make one from my own money as well. Each of us kids own stocks in the company, so we each have our own money. Every year, I take some of that money and give to the hospital.”

Tyler Wendell may have been perceived by most to be just a rich pretty boy who loved the ladies, but he had such a big heart underneath it all.

As we approached the door, he stopped dead in his tracks. A man walked toward us in what looked to be an Army dress uniform.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Tyler growled through gritted teeth.

The man stood as tall as Tyler but had sandy blonde hair with a military buzz cut. He was clean cut and completely shaven.

The man stopped and awkwardly smiled. “I’m back, man. Just finished up my tour.”

“Good for you. We’re leaving,” he said while gently tugging my hand toward the door.

“Come on Ty, can’t we at least talk for a minute?” The man pleaded.

“No. Go fuck yourself,” Tyler spat while pushing past him out the door.

Once we were outside waiting on our limo to pull up, I had to ask, “Tyler, who was that?”

“No one,” he said without looking at me.

“Obviously it was someone. Someone you have a past with.”

“Sam, I am not talking about this,” he said his eyes cold and his jaw hard as stone.

“Why won’t you tell me? I don’t understand why you’re hiding things.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “You’re one to talk about hiding things.”

The statement hit me like a slap in the face. He wasn’t wrong, but I never expected him to say it out loud and use it against me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and grinded my teeth together.

Before either of us could say another word, our ride pulled up, and we scooted in.

Once we were nestled inside and on our way home, the atmosphere was cold to say the least. I looked out the window, refusing to bring my gaze to his, and not being able to decide if I was more angry or hurt.

Silence hung in the air between us for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he broke down and spoke in such a low voice, it was barely audible.

“His name is Andrew.”

I still refused to look at him waiting for him to continue.

“We grew up together and were best friends until…he’s the one who fucked Marisol.”

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