Page 66 of Undone, Love Times Three

Except it’s not. There is a whole big mess still going on inside my head. And heart. He told his father he loves me. I heard him say that as I snuck down the stairs.

The reporter left, he was in the kitchen on his phone, and I figured I could get out of there without confronting him.

My head knew I had to leave his house, but my heart was telling me something different. I fell for him, I fell completely and wholly in love with the man. And then the truth came out. My head won, and I had to get out of there.

Only I heard what he said, and I dropped my shoe alerting him I was there.

I’ve avoided his calls for three days. In fact, I’ve avoided my home, choosing to go to Clarendon Hills. He may show up at the bar to talk to me. Given my home is above it, there is no way of avoiding him other than to leave.

I don’t tell my family why I came home. Everyone assumes it’s about the lawsuit. Not Jay, he knows I’d never intentionally leave someone else to run Blue’s while I ‘worked’ at the brewery.

He saw me with Daniel. He saw what I went through with my ex. It isn’t hard to connect the dots, but he respects me not telling him because I don’t need to see that pity again.

The lawsuit being dropped came at the right time. Not just for the bar, but for me not having to explain myself. Every night when I lay down in the spare room at my cousin’s house, I think of him. I re-run everything that happened. The night before, then in the morning.

What the reporter said, how Daniel tried to explain it, and everything I overheard him say to his dad. Maybe I overreacted. But I had a right to know the truth, and it scared me he could so quickly and easily threaten to do the same thing to that reporter that Faulkner did to me.

The woman might have been intrusive and threatening to ruin me in yet another way, it still didn’t warrant a threat in retaliation.

That is where Daniel and I are different.

Is love enough to get over that? I made a promise to myself long ago I would never compromise my feelings, my moral compass or my ability to take pride in who I am, not for a man.

The more I thought about it, the more I remembered his reaction. He didn’t get mad at me. He didn’t scream and yell, he understoodmyanger andmyreaction to what was going on. That is where Daniel is different to other men I’ve known.

We all make mistakes, right? Is this one too big for me to get over?

All I know, it hurts when I see his name on my phone. When he texts to ask how I am, not if he can explain. He checks in, rather than begs to see me. He apologized but didn’t expect me to forgive him. It’s not an act with Daniel.

I’ve been lied to before. Really lied to. Daniel lied by omission. It’s a little clearer with some time and distance that his lie wasn’t intentional. Like he said. My stubborn ass is fighting my rational side all the way to the end on this.

Ultimately… I’m miserable. Once, I told Daniel I am responsible for my happiness. Only I can allow myself to live with joy in my heart. Keeping away from him is what is making me unhappy right now. I’m doing that. Not him.

Now, Jay and the rest of the family want to celebrate winning the lawsuit. No one wants to hear that we only won because they dropped it. Jay argued, telling me if I'd never started our defense with the advertising and the social media campaign, it wouldn’t have forced their hand. We won.

Of course they want to hold the party at Blue’s Hideaway, debuting the newly blended 312 Blue IPA. Even that makes me think of Daniel. No one has called me Blue for days.

On the drive back to the city, I sit in Jay’s truck transporting the crates of beer.

We’re about thirty minutes away when he brings up Daniel. He heaves out a sigh of relief as soon as he asked what is going on.Like he’s been holding it in for days and can’t stand not knowing anymore.

“It’s complicated.”

“Trigonometry is complicated. Figuring why people prefer salty popcorn to sweet is complicated.”

“Are you going to tell me relationships aren’t complicated?”

“Nah, but that is because women are weird.”

“I’d slap you if you weren’t driving.”

He chuckles. He doesn’t mean it, but he enjoys winding me up. “Truth is Del,” he calls me by his childhood nickname. Funny how the men closest to me can’t refer to me by my real name. “Where you’re concerned no, it’s not complicated. After Pete, you got real good at knowing who you are and what you want.”

“Do we need to bring him up?”

“Yes, we do,” he takes his eyes off the road and gives me a stern look. “You know I hate that prick and if you’d let me, I would have gone to jail over him. You changed after him. And not in a bad way.”

I fidget with the fabric of my skirt and try to pretend he isn’t making sense.

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