Page 99 of All Our Secrets

“Thanks for being here.” Peyton sucked in a deep breath as her watery brown eyes peered up into mine. “I know things are strained between us, but I need our friendship.”

Her words were thorns cutting into my heart. Sometimes, that was what she was. A barbed rosebush. Hard to touch and get close to, but I risked it anyway for the love gained by having her in my hold.

Theodore stepped behind her, glaring. “What’s strained, King?”

“Go get the baby to sleep so you can rest before work tomorrow,” I said.

She nodded. “You get some rest too.”

“I will.”

I watched her ascend the stairs and disappear into her room.

“King.” Theodore waited.

“She won’t keep rejecting me,” was all I told him.

A twisted part of me wanted to tell him I’d had Peyton above and beneath me, but it was all in the dark. A dirty secret she wanted to keep there. I wanted all of her, and until that happened, until I had her heart, none of that mattered.

Besides, Peyton had come to me, and that was a memory I’d always hold close. One I didn’t want to sully just to make Theodore mad. And despite the rift between us, Theodore was still my oldest friend. The one person I admired and was envious of all at the same time. He never thought I’d have Peyton, especially after he’d gone and made her his wife. I didn’t either. Seeing her grow old with Theodore while I mourned the chance I hadn’t taken with her, never moving on with anyone because I’d never get over her, was what I had pictured my future would be like.

For the thousandth time, I wondered how I ever could have let her slip through my fingers all those years ago. All because I was an ugly motherfucker. It was ridiculous to think my gamer girl would have judged me for the way I looked. Peyton wasmyPeyton. I’d spend the rest of my life reminding her of that.

Chapter Thirty-Eight:

she couldn’t

Theodore

Something had happened between King and Peyton. If it weren’t already obvious by the way Peyton behaved lately, it was painfully apparent that night. Any time she looked King’s way when his back was turned.

For the last week—no, even before that—I could peek over her shoulder and see the text messages from King. The ones she watched and waited for. She never replied, but she cried. Sometimes she sighed and flung her phone onto the coffee table. I hated when she did that, because no sooner had she tossed the iPhone than she would scoop the stupid thing up and read his messages again.

Losing her was one thing. Watching her long for someone else was another. I was forced to observe with no way of communicating with my wife. I couldn’t fight for her. Couldn’t pull her attention toward me like I had done so often before… when I’d seen her eyes linger on him. When she thought no one was looking. She didn’t know who King was, and yet she’d always been drawn to him. Was it because of their first encounter at the bar? Or because she was reminded of the coincidence every time someone called him King?

As it was, I couldn’t do anything to turn her attention. I couldn’t even sense my body.Probably because I’m a ghost and this body doesn’t exist. My real one was rotting in the cold earth.

Whatever material this lifeless form I inhabited was made of, it wouldn’t allow me to touch Peyton, no matter how I tried, besides the night I touched her hair.

Why did she cry so much when it came to him? Why did it hurt her to see his text messages? What did he fucking do that bothered her so much? I couldn’t ask her. I wouldn’t like the answer, that was certain, but I needed to know so I could hurt King for it.

Peyton was my wife, and he dared to take her from me.

She cried all the time. I hadneverupset her. I never abandoned her like he had. But Peyton didn’t know about that… unless King had come clean.No way. I couldn’t imagine her being so calm. Or would she be relieved to get her friend back?

I still remembered the hollowed-out ache in my chest when King approached me about telling Peyton the truth. No matter what I said or did to keep him from spilling the words, he couldn’t be deterred. And it had terrified me.

Because maybe I hadn’t been as confident as I thought when it came to my wife.

Maybe I’d let fear turn into anger so swiftly that I stormed off and got myself killed.

Why hadn’t I beat the shit out of him instead? Why had I fucking run off?

Why. Did. I. Run?

Ah.The truth hurt. The truth wasmaddening.

I hadn’t been confident I could keep her attention if she knew. Whether it be anger or happiness at finding out who King was,hewould have held her attention. Maybe within my marriage.

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