Page 79 of Best Kept Secret

"You can take your sorry and shove it where the sun don't shine."

"How can I make this right?" he pleaded.

"Oh, you want me to help you with that?" I threw at him, my words dripping with sarcasm. "You mean like you heard me out when I pleaded with you and told you I'd never hurt Pari? You put my things in a trash bag, Beau. And then you called me because Pari wouldn't sleep without listening to my voice. You made me feel like trash. So, why do you think you're going to make all this right? Huh?"

He remained calm, sad, his eyes not wavering from mine. "I was so wrong, Mira. So, fuckin' wrong."

"You know who wasmorewrong?Me!Because I trusted you. For the first time in my life, I trusted someone to be there for me, and the first time my parents came along and pulled the whole ‘we're decent citizens' act, you chucked me out. You think you're the first person to have believed them when they mouthed some bullshit about me?" My voice was flat and low. He flinched but remained silent. "There was a case worker. She told me that I shouldn't tell lies about my father. My mother beat me with my father's tennis racket because I'd called CPS. I was ten."

I looked around the bar, suddenly realizing that I was talking about my childhood, the one I had refused to talk to even Dr. Ryan about. I'd given her enough hints, but I wasn't prepared to rip my heart open so why was I doing that here in public with Beau?

"We should leave." I got up. "I have to go."

Beau took my hand in his. "No, darlin'. Sit." He turned to the bartender. "Martin, close down for the night. I'll pay everyone's tab and whatever you miss."

I gaped at Beau. "That's a bit much."

The bartender, Martin shrugged. "Sure. I'll clear the place."

"You can't do that?"Could he?"I'm going home and—"He picked me up without much effort, and set me down on the barstool I had gotten up from. He sat next to me just as he had before.

"Forget everyone else. Talk to me."

I was suddenly afraid. I wastalkingto Beau, which meant that I still trusted him. How stupid was that?

"I was scared," he spoke, "of how close we'd become. I'm not used to being in a relationship, you know that. Your parents…fuck, they should win Oscars. They roped me in. I…should've been better, done better, been on your side no matter what, and Iwasn't. I hate myself for it. But I can't change the past. I can only live in today and promise to do better tomorrow."

I sat frozen as I heard people ask the bartender,Martin,what was going on, but that was in the background. In the foreground, my heart hammered, wanting to jump out of my body.

"I talked to Kush Patel," he breathed.

Kush was the first CPS case worker who'd tried to understand our situation.

"And I talked to Suchitra Pillai."

I closed my eyes. Asha was friends with Suchitra so there was a good chance she'd given her the wholeRamayana-style epic of our childhood, which she'd probably shared with Beau.

"What did she tell you about me?" I looked down at the mahogany bar counter.

I heard the bartender come up to us and saw Beau slide a black American Express card on the counter.Fancy!

Beau signed the ticket Martin placed in front of him. "Lock up, yeah?" Martin told him. "Keys are in the top drawer here."

I didn't bother to see where that was.

"Sure," Beau said. "I'll drop the keys off in the mailbox."

Martin didn't say anything to me as he slithered away.

"Why did you do that? Empty a bar for us?"

"Because you were opening up, and I didn't want to change the venue."

"Must be nice to have a whole lot of money," I said part disgusted and part impressed with Beau flaunting his financial muscle.

"Fat lot of good it did me with you, ‘cause you don't give a shit how much I have or don't have."

"My parents have a lot of money," I said in explanation.

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