Page 133 of The Games We Play
Was it okay to trust him again?
Was it okay to trustmyself?
Yes. Because they saw it too.
I took another slow sip of my wine, the warmth spreading further than the alcohol could reach.
“Now that you know,” Aspen said carefully, her eyes bright with mischief, “is there anything you want me to tell him? Maybe plant a little bug in his ear?”
I smiled, letting the thought roll around in my head before I spoke. “Between us,” I said quietly, “I think I’ve fallen for him…again.”
All three of them beamed, breaking into soft, knowing giggles that made my cheeks flush.
“But,” I added quickly, holding up a finger. “I feel like I need more.”
“Okay,” Theo encouraged, leaning forward. “Keep talking.”
I took a breath and let the words pour out. “Everything that happened between us, the secrets, the wife, the pretending like nothing happened, it broke something in me. It wasn’t just a casual fling. I let myself fall for this guy in a way I haven’t let myself feel inyears. And he made me question all of it. I felt like I was the only one carrying the weight of what we were.”
The room went still. No one interrupted. They just listened.
“It’s hard to come back from that kind of heartbreak,” I went on, my voice lower now, more vulnerable. “To go from being so one-sided to suddenly being told he wants to make things right. I want to believe him, I do, but it’s like I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“So, you need something big?” Aspen asked gently.
I nodded. “As much as I want to run straight into those tattooed arms and never look back, I need more. I need something real. Something that silences this back-and-forth battle in my head.”
“What if I planted the seed?” Aspen grinned. “Put this poor man out of his misery?”
The rest of the girls burst into laughter, and I joined them, the tension melting away like fog in the sun.
Maybe I was ready. Ready to stop running from this thing between Mac and me. Ready to stop punishing him and myself for the past.
It was time. Time to write the ending to this messy, beautiful story.
And maybe, just maybe, fall into Mac for good.
39
MAC
Aspen called me in a panic last night, said we needed anemergency meetingabout this whole Penny thing. Her voice was sharp, clipped, like the kind of panic you don’t fake.
She refused to say more, just that it had to be in person.
Since then, my brain had been spinning in endless fucking loops trying to figure out what the hell she meant. I didn’t sleep. Not a damn wink. Smoked way too many cigarettes, which I was really starting to regret right now because I’d run out.
The bar was still closed, just me and the silence, doing my usual setup for the night. Then the door chimed, cutting through the quiet like a slap.
Finally.
I spun around, tense and more than a little strung out, desperate to hear whatever bomb Aspen was about to drop.
“It’s about time,” I grumbled, arms crossing over my chest. “You couldn’t have shown up earlier? I’ve been up all damn night panicking.”
Aspen raised a hand like I was a wild animal she didn’t want to startle. “I had to get Ellie to cover for me so I could even come here. But I’m here now, okay?”
She slid onto the barstool with a loud exhale, folding her hands on the counter, and shot me a look that could cut steel.
