Page 74 of Perfect (mis)Match

Even if what I felt for Piper was stronger and went deeper than anything I’d experienced before, it had still reached its breaking point. I should’ve seen it coming, shouldn’t have let myself get this invested. I knew better than to expect romance to last.

If I’d been smarter, more careful, maybe it wouldn’t hurt this much.

22

VINCENT

Just when I thought I could go home and try to drink away myEvermorelaunch stress, a text came in from Paul.

I know it’s late. But I need to talk.

Rather than try to hash it out over the phone, he asked to come over. It wasn’t like I’d be able to sleep anyway, so I told him to head to my place. He was waiting in the lobby by the time I arrived home, pale and bleary-eyed.

“You look like shit,” I said as I strode over to him.

“Yeah, thanks. You don’t look so hot yourself despite the tux.”

We gave each other a weary handshake side hug combo.

Of course I was wearing the drama of the night across my face. I could keep it together in public, but now that I was home with one of my oldest friends, I could finally acknowledge to myself how fucked up my life was at the moment.

But Paul had asked for my support. This wasn’t about me or my problems.

We rode up the elevator in silence while Paul stared down at his shoes.

“Drink?” I asked as we walked into my dark penthouse. I flipped the lights on but kept them low to set up what was bound to be a confessional.

“You have to ask?” he chuckled. “Bring the bottle.”

Paul headed for the balcony while I grabbed my best bottle of scotch and two tumblers. When I found him outside, he was hunched forward in a chair, head bowed. I wordlessly poured him a glass and nudged it against his shoulder.

I dropped into the chair opposite him. “Talk.”

Paul took a long draw of scotch, closed his eyes, then sighed. “That helps a little.”

“Give it two more glasses, and you’ll be feeling no pain.” I was looking forward to the same sensation.

We drank in silence for a few minutes. I wasn’t about to push Paul to unleash what he was dealing with. Sometimes just being there for each other was enough. Finally, he started talking.

“Things aren’t good with Chloe,” he admitted quietly. “They’re actually pretty shitty.”

I frowned at him. “What do you mean? You’re newlyweds. Commence happily ever after. The bad stuff isn’t supposed to come for years.”

Paul leaned back and looked up at the starry sky. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. Turns out Chloe has been hiding a lot of shit from me.”

“Hold on.” I leaned forward abruptly. “She hasn’t been?—”

“No, no cheating, but she’s still been keeping secrets from me,” Paul cut me off. “I thought we were back to normal after all the drama on the way to the altar. She was acting totally fine. Happy, even! Then out of nowhere, she realizes she’s missing one of the antique earrings her grandmother had left her. It was her ‘something old’ in the wedding. She knew she took them off in the suite after the reception, but after that, we got tied up in getting ready to leave for the honeymoon. We had to pack in a hurry after the brunch in order to make our flight the next morning, so she didn’t even notice it wasn’t with the rest of her things. But a couple of nights ago, she was going through her stuff and couldn’t find it.”

I wasn’t following how a missing earring could blow up enough to require a middle-of-the-night visit. “Did you call the hotel?”

He nodded. “Immediately. They tore the room apart looking for it, but it didn’t turn up. And Chloe had a total meltdown. Like, I didn’t recognize her she was so upset. At one point she was crying so hard she was hyperventilating.” Paul’s expression went sheepish. “And that was when I said the worst thing you can say to an unhappy woman.”

“Paul, you didn’t,” I sighed.

“Oh, I did,” he replied ruefully and took a long draw of scotch. “I said, ‘Calm down, it’s just an earring.’”

Now his visit was starting to make sense.

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