Page 14 of Stealing It
“But you’re lying to everyone. Wanting them to think I’m your girlfriend when I’m just an accessory to remedy your own adultery train.”
“Touché.” Twirling the wine glass gives me something to do with my hand. “I never fuck with married women, Magnolia. You should know that.”
“How do you know? Everyone lies these days. That’s the root of all of this. Goddamn lies.” Her chest is rising and falling as her anger takes control of her body. I can’t say I blame her. I can’t imagine the predicament she’s been in. To have her daughter uncover the affair makes it even worse.
I palm my chest. “I don’t know. You’re right.”
“That’s all you have to say?” she says, hurt filling her eyes.
The time for running from this fucking mess has passed. I’m invested. My friends call it the hero complex. We make jokes about it. That motherfucking shit is true. I can’t turn away from a problem that needs to be solved. I cannot let a beautiful woman like Magnolia flounder like this. It would be criminal if she never pulled herself from this suck fest. Plus, I can confidently say I enjoy talking to her more than I like talking to anyone else.
I scoot my chair back, away from her, giving a polite, neutral distance between our bodies. I nod once. “Tell me everything you’re mad about. Let it all out. Everything,” I say. She tilts her head, trying to get a read on me and my motives. “Tell me where it hurts. Tell me where the death blow is.” Clasping my hands between my spread knees, I wait.
Her eyes widen and her mouth pops open. She closes it again. I go on, “When it’s all out and there’s nothing left to say, it doesn’t belong to you anymore. It belongs to me. That’s the deal. I’m stealing it.”
Magnolia narrows her eyes. “But it won’t. It can’t. I’ve lived it. It will always be mine.”
I shake my head. “That’s the deal. Once you’ve spoken it, I’ve taken it from you.”
“How much are you paying for my dumpster fire?” She smiles, assuming I’m joking. I look around, wondering how much she leases Magnolia’s Steals for. She interrupts my thoughts. “Why in the world would you do anything for me? You barely know me,” she says, shakily setting her wine glass down on the desk. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“It doesn’t have to make sense. I can handle your dumpster fire times a thousand. Give it to me.”
She leans forward without realizing she has. Keeping my distance is difficult, the need to comfort her warring with common sense. If I hug her, I’ll kiss her, then I’ll fuck her on this desk and she’ll still be upset when I leave. If she talks to me about this, there’s a chance of her truly getting over the fuckwad, or at least moving on. “Consider it part of the relationship training,” I offer, opening my hands, and clasping them again. “I’m teaching you how to have a relationship in this century, right?”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not that out of touch.”
“Tell me,” I say.
“Where does it hurt?” she asks, wincing. “Everywhere.” Magnolia folds her arms around her stomach. “How will I ever trust a man again? How will Kendall move on? A father is supposed to be a role model for their daughter. The type of man they grow up and seek out as a partner.” She lays a hand on her forehead. “If he ruined her, I’ll kill him. You’ll have to do it for me. You protect your kids at all costs and I couldn’t protect her from this.”
“Children are resilient,” I say, hesitant to give anything that might lead to questions I don’t want to answer. “You are a good role model. That’s what she needs. She’s old enough to realize what he did was wrong. She won’t seek out a cheater, or a liar. She’ll want a real man. She’ll be able to sniff out lies better than her peers who haven’t had this particular experience. He gave her that gift. The ability to know the difference. Your daughter will get over this. Now, will you? Put her aside for just a second and tell me what you’re afraid of outside of parenting and Kendall. Trusting again?” I ask.
Magnolia closes her eyes, and I can see her compartmentalizing. When her gaze meets mine, I see a fire there. “You know when you’re young, before you’ve been burned at all?”
I don’t. That was a luxury I wasn’t granted, but I nod anyway. Magnolia goes on, talking with her hands. “Paul was with me since then. There was never a second I didn’t trust him. It was always him and I, us. We learned how to be adults together. It was this fragility built from childhood into adulthood. When he cheated,” she says, blowing out a breath, “that ruined everything for me. That magic you think is exclusive doesn’t exist. It was wiped out with a tsunami of grief.”
“You grieve. You move on,” I add.
She shakes her head. “I have. I’ve grieved. How is it fair he gets to have that magic? Without me? We created that together. Does that make sense?”
I clear my throat. Entering awkward territory. “Do you miss him?”
“No. Yes. No. I miss how simple it was when we were together.”
“Simple. You used the word simple, Magnolia. True love isn’t simple.”
“What do you know about true love?”
I look away. More than I should, that’s for sure. I’m only in touch with the cruel, masochistic side of love. I know exactly what it’s not supposed to be. “This isn’t about me. You can have that feeling again. It may not look the same. Or feel the same. It can be different and be just as satisfying. But you don’t want different, do you?”
“I want him to suffer like I did.”
I correct her. “Like you do. You’re obviously suffering now.”
She covers her eyes with both palms and rubs back and forth. “That’s the thing. I thought I was over him, Aidan. Last night with you. I felt so much. It was an awakening. For stupid news about Paul and Pamela to crash in and ruin everything is devastating. I’m angry he has power over me.”
“You’re giving it to him.”
