Page 9 of The Curvy Girl's Christmas Cowboy
“No, I couldn’t.” She shakes her head, making the curls bounce around her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“I insist.” Storm states flatly.
She hesitantly looks at me before sitting down. “What’s up?”
I bite my lip before I say anything I’ll regret, but I can’t believe she has the nerve to act like everything’s peachy keen between us.
Storm takes a deep breath and begins to speak. “Marjorie, I need to talk to you about an incident that happened when you and Peach were sharing an apartment in college,”
“You swore to me you slept with him,” I blurt. “And we broke up because of it.”
“But you lied, didn’t you?” Storm fumes.
For a moment, Marjorie’s eyes widen in such a convincing look of surprise, I wonder if it’s genuine. How is it possible she forgot?
“I ... I might have made something up ...” she trails off, her smile faltering slightly. “But it was only to get even.” She turns to me. “I think we were in a fight that day. Remember? You pissed me off.”
What the actual fuck? She lied?
I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck. The realization that my terrible memories were based on a story she made up, and I allowed her to poison my second chance with Storm, is difficult to wrap my head around. How could I have been such a fool? I thought she was my friend.
My voice trembles as I hold back tears, my anger directed more at myself than anyone else. “I trusted you Marjorie, and you made the whole thing up, because I pissed you off over something so inconsequential neither one of us can remember?” I rub my temples hoping to alleviate the throbbing but it’s impossible.
Storm’s reappearance in my life was out of the blue. I ran into him at Jamba Joes, my daily coffee stop, near the college. He was working on a job nearby. My guard was up because of his reputation as a player in high school, but I couldn’t deny how insanely attracted I was to him. We ended up in bed on our first date.
I shake my head in disgust at Marjorie. “Let me get this straight. After being my roommate for two full years, after everything we went through together? You flat out lied to me?”
Marjorie shrinks guiltily, but I can see her wheels spinning. “You two were not officially a couple. Sure, you hooked up, but I didn’t think it would matter.”
Storm’s voice cuts through the tension, his anger directed squarely at Marjorie. “You caused a lot of pain and confusion for the both of us, and I’ll never forgive you for that.”
My heart sinks with regret and I reach out to hold his hand. “I’m so, so sorry,” I whisper, “I should’ve believed you.”
Storm rubs soothing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. “It’s okay, honey,” he says softly. “I’m sure you’re not used to having friends lie to your face, and to be fair, I don’t blame you for not trusting me back then. I was an idiot in high school.” His gaze never leaves Marjorie. She’d have to be six feet under not to pick up on his anger.
Marjorie flinches as the gravity of her actions finally dawns on her. She stammers, “I’m... I...”
I can’t contain my frustration one second longer. “You what?”
“I thought it all worked out,” she snaps defensively. “You ended up living in that killer new apartment your parents bought for you. I figured you’d rather live by yourself anyway, and if it was meant to be, you two would talk and get back together.”
“For your information, we did not.” Now that the truth is out in the open, I’m not sure how I should react. Part of me wants to vent and scream, while another just wishes I could run away from this disaster.
Storm watches me with concern, then redirects his penetrating stare toward Marjorie who pales under his scrutiny. My guess is she’s about to leave, but he stops her. “Please give us the courtesy of staying for just a few more minutes. The very least you can do is tell us why on earth you would make up such a lie?” His jaw clenches, and the veins on his neck bulge. I’ve never seen this side of him before.
Marjorie’s eyes dart back and forth between Storm and me. “I don’t know,” she finally replies with a quivering, uncertain voice. “I was jealous, I guess. I was failing three of my classes, and you were thriving. I was lonely, and, oh”—she runs a hand through her thick hair—“I have no idea what was going through this pea brain of mine.”
“Please, do better and explain.” My voice shakes. “Make this make sense.”
Marjorie falters, struggling to put her feelings into words. “I told you, I honestly wasn’t thinking,” she admits, her gaze drops to her hands. “I was drinking a ton back then. We were so young, Peach. I didn’t know I’d upset you to this degree.”
“Well, you did,” Storm interjects. “You broke Peaches’ trust and destroyed our relationship before it could begin with your asinine antics.”
“Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me?”
Marjorie finally looks up at me, her blue eyes filled with tears. “I do now,” she stutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I apologize.” She starts to cry, her shoulders shaking with the weight of her guilt. “I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’m honestly mortified. I’m so terribly sorry.” Her tears flow freely now. “I really am,” she sputters between sobs. “I’m not the same person. I’ve grown, Peach. I have.”
Oh hell, now I feel awful. I hate seeing her cry. I pass her a napkin to wipe her tears and glance at Storm, silently telling him we should end this conversation.
