Page 96 of She Was Made for Me

“Yes,” I say hoarsely.

His eyes darken with fury as he stares at me, speechless.

“It’s over,” I add, but that doesn’t make it any better. We both know I’ve done the worst possible thing and betrayed him.

He’s quiet for a long time, letting me stew in my guilt. Finally, he says, “She’s only twenty-five.”

“I know how old she is.”

“Howyoung, you mean.”

This grates a little. Yes, she’s young, but it’s not like she’s eighteen. She’s a strong woman who knows her own mind, and I don’t think he always gives her enough credit. “She’s a grown woman,” I remind Rich.

“She’s mydaughter, Kyle. She was vulnerable after losing her job, and you thought you’d make a move? How could you—”

“Hey, wait a minute.” I raise my hands. “That’s not what happened.”

Rich folds his arms, gaze challenging me. “Then what happened?”

I hesitate. What am I going to say, that I fought it as much as I could, but she pushed me to the point of no return? I could never throw her under the bus like that. If I’m going to lose Rich over this, I can at least make sure she doesn’t lose him too.

“Okay,” I mumble, forcing yet another lie out of my mouth. But this one is for Violet. “It was… it was my idea.” I glance up quickly. “I never pressured her, or anything. She was interested, but… yeah, I instigated it.”

Rich’s face reddens with rage, a vein throbbing in his temple. I’ve never seen him so angry, and it makes my pulse whip through me. There’ll be no coming back for us now. There will be no saving our friendship, and it’s my own fault.

“I trusted you,” he spits. “I asked for your help. I asked you to lookoutfor her, for God’s sake, and instead you took advantage of her.”

“I didn’t… I mean, she’s not achild. She’s—”

“She is to me. You knew that. She’s my little girl, Kyle. My only child.” His lips snarl in disgust, but he still hasn’t raised his voice. I expected him to yell, maybe hit me, but he only stares at me silently, eyes wild with fury.

This is worse. Much, much worse.

I want to tell him I’m in love with her, that it wasn’t only physical. That she’s made me feel more alive in the past two months than I have for the past two years, and that I think she feels the same, even though she’s left. That we didn’t tell him because we didn’t want to hurt him, that we feel awful for betraying him, and we’ve sacrificed each other for him.

But then I think of Violet standing in the entry hall with shaking hands yesterday, how relieved she was that Rich didn’t know the truth, how afraid she’s been of letting him down. It’s not my place to tell him these things, to risk him blaming her. She’s made her choice, and now I want to do everything I can to protect her from the fallout of this.

“Is this why you wouldn’t take my money?” Rich asks, face twisted in outrage. “Because you thought you’d take my daughter instead?”

“Jesus,” I mutter, grinding the heels of my hands into my eye sockets. “You’ve got to be kidding. Come on. Youknowme, Rich.”

“I thought I did.” He steps away with a shake of his head, his eyes cold as they move over me. “But the man I knew would never do this. After everything I’ve done for you…”

His words are like a punch to the gut, but it’s what I deserve. I make one last attempt to protect the woman I love, hoping my plea will register through his anger. “Promise me you won’t hold it against Violet. It’s not her fault.”

For the first time, I think he might actually hit me. His eyes widen with disbelief and he steps forward, fists shaking at his side. “Of course it’s not her fault,” he grits out. “You’re the one in the position of power here. You should have known better. I thought youwerebetter.” There’s a moment where he seems to contemplate striking me, before turning swiftly on his heel, suit jacket flying out behind him as he strides across the foyer to the front door. Then he pauses, turning back to say, “Don’t ever speak to anyone in my family again.”

“Rich—” I begin, but it’s no use, he’s already yanking the door open and thundering down the front steps, and there’s nothing I can say that will make a blind bit of difference. He’s hurt, and after everything I said, I don’t blame him. I’d feel exactly the same in his shoes.

My old therapist once told me that one way to deal with anxiety is to follow any worries through to their worst possible outcome. He said that if you did that, you’d find you could always cope with the worst case scenario if you absolutely had to.

Well, the worst has happened. I’ve lost the woman I love and my best friend, within the space of twenty-four hours. It’s going to take me a long time to piece my heart and my life back together, but I’m still here. I will survive this, like I’ve survived everything else.

I take a few faltering breaths to calm myself, then I numbly load up my truck and begin the long drive home.

38

Violet

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