Page 93 of Meet Me in the Valley
“Of course. What is it, Lo? You’re scaring me.”
Please don’t hate me.
“I slept with Krista.”
Inside my head, I’m crouched down in a ball, covering my ears to wait for the explosion that’ll burn the hairs off my face. I wait, and I wait, but it never comes.
The trepidation in her gaze leaves, wiped clean without a word. What’s left in her eyes isn’t rage or heartbreak. It’s colder than that.
Disappointed. Detached. Final.
Like she’s already done with me.
“You’re lying.” Her hands move down to her sides, and I’m already wishing they were back on me, soothing me and keeping me connected to her. My stomach twists as the thought of losing her hits. I shake my head hard, trying to knock loose the right words, but the only thing I can muster up is an empty silence.
“You’re lying,” she repeats, squirming out from beneath me to sit higher on the bed. I lean back on my haunches, running one hand through my hair and gripping the sheet with the other to keep from reaching out to pull her against me.
“T, I’m?—”
“Tell me you’re lying.” Her voice is hollow, almost no emotion lacing it at all.
A defeated sigh leaves me. Tia clutches the bedsheet higher to cover herself. She’s doing it to shield herself from me. The realization stings.
“I wish I was,” I admit. The confession does nothing to erase the look of anguish on her face. “It meant nothing to me.”
“When?” is all she says, barely above a harsh whisper.
“Um … well …” I hesitate, already fucking hating myself.
“Just say it, Logan.”
“The night before I got here.”
The shock on Tia’s face might as well be a backhand across my cheek. She moves to leave the bed, pulling the sheet with her to cover herself. Desperation fills me as I watch her toss clothes from piles on the floor in the air, slipping on her bra and underwear at lightning speed.
“Tia, please. Let me explain.”
She unzips her suitcase, digging out a pair of fresh leggings and a t-shirt. She ignores me completely, dressing herself and simultaneously shoving discarded clothes from the floor into her luggage.
She’s packing.
“Tia, stop. Please let me explain.”
“Why her?” she shouts, finally letting the dam of emotions break. “Out of all the women you could have in your bed, why her?” Her stare could cut glass. Being on the receiving end of her ire is like being stabbed in the gut, and I’m the one wielding the knife.
No explanation could justify my actions that night. I know no matter what I say, the damage is done. But I’ll do my best to rectify my mistakes because I’m desperately in love with this woman. I find my briefs on the floor next to the bed, slipping them on quickly as the sharp edge of her gaze cuts me deep.
“You told me you felt nothing for me. I asked you, remember? At the airport. You denied me, and I fuckingspiraled. I’m not using that as an excuse for my actions, but it fucked me up more than I expected. I didn’t realize then that I had already fallen for you.”
Tia doesn’t flinch. Her eyes glisten, but not a single tear falls for me. She stands like stone, unshaken, while I crumble in front of her. Every second of her silence slices deeper, unraveling what little composure I have left. I can feel her slipping, inch by inch, as if my words came too late.
“I was miserable, T. I didn’t know how to deal with my emotions, let alone deal with my feelings foryou—my best friend!”
“So, you thought the best way to do that was to fuck Krista?”
I wince at the reality of her question. In hindsight, it was stupid as fuck to sleep with Krista. I knew it before I had the condom on.
Fuck, I knew it well before then if I’m being honest with myself.
