Page 61 of All I Ask
He’s still a cheater when it comes to games. Bastard.
“I’m not doing this because I agree,” I explain because he’ll use this excuse again. “I’m drinking because it’s easier to do than argue with you for the next hour.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself. My story beat yours, so drink.”
I grab the lemon, pour the sugar on it, hating that I lost the first round. He watches me with his brow raised, definitely not letting me out of it. I pick up the vodka, toss it back, grip the lemon in my teeth, and bite down. I haven’t done lemon drops in so long I forgot how much they can burn.
My body shivers from the alcohol flooding my bloodstream. “You’re going down,” I warn him. “You used your one sad bit on the first one.”
“I’ve got thirteen years of stories, Tea, are you so sure?”
I glare at him. “I guess we’re about to find out. My turn.” I want to go for the kill about Keith, but I feel like I need to play this smart. “I gave birth to Chastity with the nurse as my coach after you broke up our friendship over the phone.”
At that time, I had no one I wanted by my side. My mother and I had been fighting that day and Derek’s call sent me into labor. I didn’t want to talk to anyone except him and he had made it clear that our friendship was over. The desire to be independent won out over being reasonable.
His face falls. “You were alone?”
“Well, I had Nurse Rose.”
“But you didn’t have someone who loved you there?”
“No.”
The hurt and guilt on his face cause my chest to hurt. It’s clear that the two of us are still not over things.
“I’m sorry.”
I nod. “And that wasn’t even my best story.”
“You haven’t heard mine yet.” Derek’s eyes fill with mirth. “You tried, I’ll give you that, but…”
“You can’t beat giving birth alone after you were heartbroken,” I huff while crossing my arms over my chest.
“Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.”
There’s no way anything other than the fact that his wife was killed could beat it. The seriousness has completely evaporated and been replaced with the playfulness we’ve had most of the evening.
“Well, prepareto be outdone…I haven’t had sex for seven years.”
I gasp. “What?”
“Seven. Long. Fucking. Years.”
“You…haven’t had sex…for seven years?”
“Nope.”
“But you were married!”
Derek nods with purpose. “I’m aware.”
“Did you enter the priesthood or something?”
He laughs. “Not even close.”
I want to feel bad for him and drink, but I really hate losing. I don’t even know what to say to him.
