Page 18 of Sins and Secrets

Hmmm. “I caught Adam cheating on me and, somehow, this cookie is the worst part of my day.”

Lukas sighs. “Shit. When did you find out?”

Checking my watch I blink a few times at the time. There’s no way I drove around for two hours. Wow, my dissociation skills are top tier. “A little while ago.”

I was so focused on myself, what about the ripple effects this might have on the other people in my life? Will Angie be mad? At me? Or at him. I really was trying to hold off until the wedding was over, but Adam made it impossible. God, I’m going to lose Angie, she’d never pick me over her twin.

I’m losing everything. The mental shelf I’ve been holding all my emotional baggage on starts to bow under the pressure. And who’s comforting me? The one person who’s rejected me time and time again.

Lukas stands, grabbing the plate and dumping the cookie into the trash, then he offers me his hand. “Come on, love, you’re about to have a breakdown and you shouldn’t do it in the city’s saddest bakery.”

ChapterNine

Waverly

Lukas leadsme out of the bakery and into his car, where he turns up the heat to full blast. “Don’t know if you were paying attention, but you’re not wearing a coat. We’ll leave your car here and I’ll take you back to the shop.”

Amanda Chase's new song plays through the speakers. It’s not her best song, but it’s got one of her recurring characters in it—Kiki. A long lost love or friend or someone she’s been hoping would return. The song makes my heart hurt, and the wooden shelf cracks and splinters and my emotional baggage comes crashing down.

There’s an arm around my shoulder as Lukas pulls me closer to him. “Can you hold it together for a few more minutes?”

Of course. I can’t even have an existential breakdown on my own timetable. It has to be one on someone else’s. Like a good little girl, I fight the tears and frustration until he parks his car at the tattoo shop, throws his coat over me, and leads me again.

His office is dark, with a giant wood desk that takes up most of the space. Rich and regal. It doesn’t match anything I know about Lukas. How did they even get it in the room? There’s no way it could fit through the door.

He offers me a chair as he leans against the desk. “You can yell and scream and cry in here.” He checks his watch. “I have a client in forty-five minutes.”

“He’s cheating on me.” I state the fact, unemotional. “He treats me like shit.” Another fact. “He’s selfish and rude.” Facts with emotion. “He spends all my money.” The emotional dam breaks. “He said he loved me.” The tears break out of their prison. “I believed him.” My shoulders shake and the sobs erupt from deep inside my soul. “No one wants me. Angie only lets me tag around because I’ve been there for so long it feels wrong if I’m not there.”

I’m like a sock that got stuck behind a door. Every time you see it, you know it doesn’t belong there, but you don’t pick it up because something else has your attention. For years, the sock stays behind the door, dust builds, and you leave it there because it sort of feels wrong to move it. And, besides, it’s not hurting anything. Then, one day, you get a burst of energy and you clean everywhere. And without thinking, you move the sock and it’s forgotten. That’s what I am. A forgotten sock.

“Dad moved on and had a new kid with a new woman. Sure, Sheila’s wonderful and Shae’s great, but Mom and I were replaced so quickly.”

Lukas takes my hands and squeezes them. I can’t look at his face. Instead, I focus on the way his grip completely engulfs mine. I feel small while he holds me, like I can literally fit in the palm of his hand. His voice is low and sad. “I know exactly how you feel.”

“My family doesn’t want me around.”

Again he gives me another squeeze.

“I was never really satisfied with Adam.” The quiet admission changes to rage. “Anytime I would bring up what I wanted to try, he said I was a slut.” He made me feel small and worthless. The piece of shit had the nerve to cheat on me. Worst of all, he wasted my time.

Me.

I'm Waverly fucking Mcleod. I'm smart. Powerful. Connected. The fucking Olympians come to me for research. My family ruins people.

“No one wants me. I’m not good enough.” The bitter memories of my early twenties, the hopes and dreams I had… Poof. Gone.

“You know that’s not true,” Lukas interjects, crashing my pity party.

“No, I don’t know. Everyone bails on me, and you’re the biggest offender.” My eyes sting. “It wasn’t enough that I gave you my virginity or every summer of youth. No, the second you saw an opportunity, you ran away from your family and left me behind too.”

My pent up humiliation bubbles and boils over. My body shakes with frustration. And I’m not prepared for how quickly his face changes. One second, kindness and compassion, the next, dismay and rage. Every muscle in his body tenses, like he’s a rubber band stretched to its breaking point, ready to snap and take someone’s eye out.

Anger oozes from every word. “What the fuck? You ghosted me! You were the one who never called back.”

“Why the hell would I call you?” I snap, spitting as much venom in my words as he can with his eyes. I’m the one in emotional crisis right now, and he has no fucking right to be mad at me. He lifted my hopes, toyed with my feelings, and he expected me to call him back and tell him, “Baby, it’s fine. We’re all good.” No thanks.

I’m done. I’ll replay the moment one last time and then I’m going to bury it, pour concrete over it, and build a huge statue of a horse taking a shit on it. “I don’t oweyouany explanation, but I’ve got to deal with this once and for all. You told me when you left, ‘Everything I feel about you is on my desk.’ It was empty. I checked the drawers, the floor, hell, I pulled the damn desk away from the wall. Nothing except a receipt from Walgreens for gum and a soda. Your message was loud and clear. I was cheap garbage to you. And apparently, I still am.”

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