Page 110 of Lovetown, USA
My heart skips a beat.
“Okay. I can explain that.”
She shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. But her face stays hard, and she looks at me like I’m a stranger. Like I’m just another man that’s proved her right.
“Just tell me one thing,” she says. “What was real? I wanna know what was real and what was fake.”
My throat dries to a rasp. I clear it, but to no avail.
“All of it was real,” I say. “Everything I did and felt was real.”
She looks away, and I know she doesn’t believe me. She looks shellshocked, like a prisoner of war.
“I’m sorry.” The words sound useless and empty, even to me. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” she says. “You just proved what I already knew. My gut told me not to trust you, and now I know I was right.”
She sniffs, but she doesn’t let the tears fall. “You manipulated me, Trey.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Look, I know why you would say that, but—“
“You lied and schemed with your fuck buddy to make me fall for you to keep her bullshit going.”
I blow out a breath, my heart pounding now. So is my head.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all good.” She finally turns to face me again. Her face and eyes are dry. “I have my eyes on the prize. After tonight, you’ll never see me again. But I thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson.”
The finality in her tone guts me. It would almost be better if she lashed out, screaming and crying and hitting me. Then I’d know she was still invested. But this calm stone of a woman next to me…she’s done.
I want to reach for her, to beg, to throw myself in front of the wall she just erected between us, but I don’t. I can’t.
When we get to the hotel, she slips out of the car without a word. I sit there, useless, staring after her until she disappears inside the doors.
I should go to her room and pound on her door. I should sleep outside her door so that I’m the first face she sees when she wakes up in the morning. But I know in my heart that it’s futile.
I fucked up.
And I just have to suffer the consequences.
Again.
39
Lane
I’m dying to getout of this dress, to wash the makeup and the rest of this horrible night off me, but there’s something that takes precedence.
I log into my work email account and send my article to Britt. The real story. The only one that matters.
After, I shower.
And when I climb into bed, exhausted and spent, I smile through my tears, knowing I finally chose myself.
40
Trey
