Page 72 of Terms + Conditions
“Now, look—”
“Don’t you ‘now look,’ me. You knew, and you didn’t tell me? Are you fuc—”
“She invoked theLast Hoorah Clause,” I say, cutting her off, and she whips her head toward me again. “It was part of the arrangement.”
“Oh, right.” Nina chuckles but forgets to add the humor to it. “The arranged fucking marriage. How could I forget?”
She starts to say something else but stops. Pressing her lips into a hard line, she shakes her head and storms out the back door. Her footsteps retreat down the steps and further into the backyard.
After a moment, Nick pats my back in a way that should be comforting, but it’s not. He starts to stand, to go after her, but I stop him. “No, this is on me. I need to do this.”
“Might want to take a glass of wine as a peace offering,” he says before I reach the door.
Nina sits in one of the chairs surrounding the fire pit, her hands dug deep in her pockets, her gaze locked on the flames. I approach with caution, knowing better than to poke the bear too early. Setting the whiskey glass (I decided this was a whiskey kind of conversation, not wine) next to her, I fall into the chair one away from her, leaving some buffer room. She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even move to take the glass as we sit in silence. My leg bounces uncontrollably and my stomach twists in different knots, making the steak from dinner find its way back up into my throat. It’s all too much. This is far worse than if she would just yell at me. The cold shoulder reminds me so much of her father, I feel like I’m back in his office after he discovered the truth.
We never used to be this way. Things used to be easy and fun, but since she discovered the truth, Nina and I have barely spoken. I think she’s been avoiding me. Avoiding confronting the truth about things, avoiding the hurt she must feel. I think she’s taking the whole thing harder than anyone because she was the hardest to fool.
“Please don’t,” she stops me when I attempt conversation.
“Nin—”
“Josh. Don’t. I can’t do this with you.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I ask finally earning her stare. “You have never been one to hold your tongue, Nina. Why are you doing it now?”
Nina doesn’t say anything, staring down into the flames.
“Look, you have every right to be mad at me—at us, but especially me. I lied to you…a lot. I betrayed your trust and took advantage of your family. But the one thing I can honestly say I never lied about is my love for Elizabeth. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this. We wouldn’t have to tell you guys anything because she and I could make it work, but…clearly, that didn’t happen. And, this weekend, I thought—”
Nina scoffs, meeting my gaze again, the fire dancing across her face. “You thought you could go this weekend and win her back, is that it?”
“I don’t know, Nina. I don’t—”
“You were just doing what you had to because of the contract, right? You were playing your part.” She shakes her head. “The problem is, you played it too well, Josh.”
“I wasn’t playing a part.”
“You werealwaysplaying a part.” Nina looks away again, this time letting the hurt cross her features. “You both were. It wasn’t just you.”
“Nin—”
“I just...I don’t understand. Either you want a divorce, or you don’t, but you can’t have it both ways.”
“I don’t.”
The confession hangs between us for a brief moment.
“I don’t want a divorce,” I say again. This is the first time I’ve admitted it out loud, and it hurts worse than I thought. “But, I don’t deserve her, Nina. I don’t deserve to be here, to be living the life I have had for the past ten years. I know that. I’ve always known that.”
“What are you talking about?” Nina’s stare is intense. “Josh, why would you say that? You’ve worked your ass off. You—”
“None of that matters anymore. She’s with Ryan.”
“Elizabeth is not with Ryan. They broke up.”
A dry chuckle, I shake my head. “She was last night. He was there when I dropped her off from Palm Valley.”
Nina doesn’t say anything, turning back toward the fire. She bites down on her cheek, thinking, and absentmindedly takes hold of the whiskey glass I set beside her. The amber liquid splashes up and down the walls as she twirls the bottom rip against the armrest. “I don’t understand,” she says, more to herself than me. Her chest rises and falls with a breath before she sits forward, planting her feet on the cement pavers. Her stare locks on me when she says, “You asked me why I haven’t said anything. The truth is, I wanted you two to figure this out on your own. And I thought you would. I never thought we would get to where we are now. When she told me the truth about all of this, I was hurt and I was angry. I felt betrayed, by both of you, but then I realized how I felt didn’t matter. And I firmly believed that regardless ofwhyyou got together you’d figure it out because you love each other. You always have.”
