Page 38 of Flawless

“I guess you’re going to tell me that those favors included sexual pleasure?”

“They did. And he wasn’t the only one, Zenon. That’s why I couldn’t be with you. I knew what I’d done, and I didn’t want to taint you that way. I hurt you, and I know that, Z. I intentionally hurt you just so that you would give up any notions about you and me forever.”

“That’s fucked up, Dani.”

“It was, and for that, I’m sorry. You meant a lot to me, and while I had no right to treat you the way that I did, I didn’t mean to cause the sort of damage that I did. Johan Jurgen is a cruel man. He loves having people at his beck and call and pulling their strings on a whim.

“Nothing gave him more pleasure than finding out that you and I were dating. It’s the reason that I always wanted us to stay out of the public eye. Where I tried protecting our relationship from prying eyes, you always felt that I was hiding something.”

“Weren’t you?”

“I was, but I wasn’t hiding you. You thought that I was ashamed to be with you, and I wasn’t. I knew that if the wrong people found out about us, they would destroy any chance of happiness we had. I didn’t learn until later that Johan found out about our relationship the week before. That’s the only reason he wanted to be at your game. He wanted you to see me on his arm and to show me that he could control me however he wanted to.”

“And why? Why would you give him that control, Dani?”

“Because I wanted my own show. That’s what had been promised to me in exchange for what I could give to him.”

“I hope that you’re happy with what you got. I hope it was all worth it,” he says sourly.

“It wasn’t. I’ve been through hell the last few years mostly because of my guilty conscience. Between what I did to you and the things I’d done before you, it all became too much to bear. It was easier to drink, smoke, snort, or pop a pill to forget the damage that I’d caused, and the pain that I suffered because of my choices, than it was facing them.”

I push off the chaise lounge and walk to the railing. I lean forward dangerously and glance down at the sidewalk.

Couples, families, and friends walk by in their swimwear, toting umbrellas, chairs, boogie boards, or towing coolers behind them. A dog across the street barks at the people coming and going to the beach.

I glance up at the sun beaming down overhead. It’s ninety-eight degrees today, and it’s just noon. Turning away from the railing, I sit back down and grab my glass of lemonade.

Trailing a finger over the condensation, I say, “I didn’t take self-responsibility for my actions because a part of me just didn’t give a fuck, Z.”

Zenon remains quiet. His long, hairy legs are stretched out in front of him. His hands are crossed at the back of his neck, and his eyes are closed.

He appears to be resting, but the telltale signs of the strain and stress are etched on his face, from the deep burrows in his forehead to the lines around his clenched mouth. Every now and then, his eyelids jump, and the veins in his neck pulse.

I take a long sip of the lemonade before setting it on the table between us.

“I created a rift between us where we could have had a beautiful relationship. I was so ashamed of the things that I’d done in my past, and I didn’t want you to find out about them and judge me. Hell,” I scoff. “I was still doing some of those things.”

“Why didn’t you trust me? I always told you that you could tell me anything, and I wouldn’t hold it against you or judge you.”

“That’s easy to say, Zenon. People say that all the time, but in the world that I come from, that’s rarely true. Do you know how many people are holding secrets over each other’s heads to get a favor? No one upholds their words. That’s just something that sounds good.”

Turning sideways, Zenon leans forward and rests his arms on his knees. “Relationships are built on trust, Dani. If you can’t trust me, then we have nothing.”

His voice is pleading and soft. It tugs at my heart.

“It’s hard for me to trust in the world that I came from. I started modeling at sixteen. My parents didn’t want that for me because they thought that I could do better. My mom insisted I would sell my soul if I went into the industry. I did. My father said that I would be used, abused, and broken and that the world was no place for a girl of my stature and background. He was right.”

I release a humorless chuckle when I think about how poorly my parents underestimated that world.

“They didn’t know the half of it. But I was a disillusioned teenager determined to set off into the world and prove my parents wrong. I had dreams of becoming the next supermodel, and I was unwavering about doing whatever I needed to make that happen. And I did.”

I stare off into space as I think about the number of men that I’ve been with, and the things that I’ve done in my life. Things that I would never want my parents to find out about, not only because it would prove them right, but also because I would be soiled in their eyes.

There are many things I would never want my children to know about me which is why I’m determined not to have them. And I’m okay with that decision.

“Didn’t your name afford you protection?”

Shaking my head, I say, “No. Because I wanted to make it on my own, I didn’t use my last name. In fact, I worked hard to cover up that I was a Maxwell fromthe Maxwells. That didn’t last for long, though. It seemed like once people discovered who I was, they got kicks out of abusing me even more than before.”

---