Page 49 of My First Time Fling

I didn’t want to be suspicious. It didn’t feel good to be anxious all the time, to constantly wonder if he was going to pull the rug out from under me. I wished I could just put it out of my head and enjoy what we had. But I’d tried that. For a month. And it just wasn’t working.

I turned the corner and started down the street toward the diner, deciding that I was going to put it out of my mind. At least for as long as brunch lasted. Because much as I wanted to know what was going on, I was sick of thinking about it all the time. I’d just started thinking about how good the diner’s French fries were going to be when I stopped short.

Mark was walking out of a building halfway down the street.

It was a nondescript building, like so many others in the neighborhood. Brown brick, thick walls, leafy plants out front. I’d passed it a zillion times. If I remembered correctly, it had a psychiatrist’s office, a travel agent, and a dentist on the bottom floor, none of whom sold shelf paper. So what the hell was Mark doing there?

I actually thought I was seeing things, so I took another couple of steps forward, blinking rapidly like that might change the scene in front of me, but no. That really was Mark. He’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking at something on his phone.

What the fuck?

What was Mark doing here when he was supposed to be up to his neck in housewares and old china? And more to the point, why had he lied to me?

I had the strangest instinct to hide. To duck behind a bush or a trash can, before he could see me.I’m waiting for the other guy to show up, I realized. Or the other girl, perhaps. Tanner had done such a number on me that deep down, I really was afraid Mark was cheating on me too. I didn’t think I could handle that.

But that was stupid, or so I tried to tell myself. If Mark was cheating on me, that put him in the wrong, not me. And even if he wasn’t, I was still furious with him for lying to me. Lying about not being able to come to brunch, and about every other thing he’d made excuses for.

And then he looked up and saw me.

Decision made.

Mark froze, right there in the middle of the sidewalk, while I marched up to him. I didn’t even give him time to open his mouth. I wanted to say what I needed to say before he had a chance to do what Tanner had always done, to explain it away and make me wonder if I was the crazy one.

“I see the shelf-papering went faster than expected,” I spat when I reached him. “Who are you texting? Me, to tell me you can come to brunch after all? Or were you going to keep lying about that?”

“What? Jesse, no, I wasn’t lying.” Pain washed over Mark’s face, but I refused to let myself be sucked in by that. “I actually did have a thing. An appointment, but I just—it just...” He trailed off like he was unsure how to finish the sentence. Probably because it was a lie.

“Yeah? An appointment you didn’t want to tell me about? An appointment that you’d rather lie about and cover up with some bullshit excuse?”

“Jess, it wasn’t like that, I swear. I just didn’t know how to—” Mark broke off, closing his eyes and sighing. “I didn’t know how to tell you about it,” he said when he opened them again. “So I just figured it was easier not to. But I really did have an appointment, and it just got cancelled.”

“Sure. You just happened to have an appointment at the same time as this brunch, and it just happened to get cancelled as soon as you ran into me. Of course.”

“Jess—

“That’s bullshit, Mark. You’ve been doing this for weeks. You keep cancelling and backing out, and I don’t know what the problem is, but I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t date someone who lies to me. I put up with that from Tanner for too long and I’m not doing it again with you.”

“Jesse, please. Look.” Mark pushed his phone at me. “This is the text. Dr. Branscombe got into a fender bender on her way over here and she’s dealing with insurance stuff, and she just texted me to cancel like, a minute ago.”

I looked down at his phone, not sure what I expected and almost hoping what I saw would prove Mark wrong. But there it was—a text saying exactly what he’d just told me. I could feel the ground slipping away beneath me, but I was too angry to let this go without a fight.

“Dr. Branscombe, huh? What, does she own the travel agency in there? Were you going to buy some round-the-world cruise tickets for Gigi and you, so you’d have yet another excuse to never spend time with me?"

“Jesus, no, Jesse.” Mark ran a hand through his hair. “God, it’s hard to explain, and this isn’t how I wanted to do this.”

“Then don’t,” I said, suddenly tired. Exhausted, really. Of everything. Of trying to figure out what was going on with Mark, of the mixed signals, of never knowing where I stood. I just didn’t want to do it anymore. “Just don’t bother. Like I said, I’m done.”

I turned around and walked away, which was stupid, because I was now walking in the opposite direction of the diner, but I was too drained to care.

Everything hurt. Mark had seemed so sweet, so perfect. But I’d once again had the rug pulled out from underneath me. What was it about me that was so fucking unlovable, that made people treat me like this? Or was it something I was doing wrong, in only picking damaged assholes?

“Wait, please.” Mark’s voice rang out behind me, and I paused in spite of myself. “Jess, I have PTSD.”

16

Mark

“What?” Jesse spun around so fast I thought he might fall over.

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