Page 40 of Truth
“No. I’m not okay.”
“Jesus, Drew. Let’s get the check. You know what, just go. Go out the side, and don’t even look back.” Motioning to the waiter for the check, she starts mumbling about what a horrible idea all of this was, but I can’t focus on what she is saying. My sole focus is on King. King kissing his wife, King playing with his daughter. Ella is his daughter. They look happy, content. I’m so dumb—I fell for all of it.
“Gretchen, I have to go.” I feel sick.
“Go, babe, totally. Go out the side exit over there.” She points to a small exit off the terrace.
Tossing my napkin on the table, I push out my chair and grab my clutch. My mind and body feel disassociated. I’m on a lag; I can’t even process what I’m seeing. I reach the side exit and walk around the side of the building, my eyes filled with tears. I wipe them away, stopping in my tracks. No. I won’t cry. I don’t deserve tears; I deserve an apology. With every step, my anger builds.
How dare he.
He made me believe.
He made me hope.
I trusted myself only to be tricked into being the fool. Fuck that. I’m not cowering behind some shrub waiting for him to go live his perfect life. I come around the corner of the building and walk straight toward the front, all too prepared to have a confrontation with this massive dick. I see Gretchen standing at the entrance, swiveling her head back and forth to look for me.
“Drew.” Her voice is a loud whisper.
“Gretchen,” I answer back, walking past her, my voice confident but angry.
“Don’t do whatever you are thinking. I hate everything about the look on your face right now. It makes me think I’m going to have to hide a body,” she loud-whispers as she follows me.
“You may have to,” I say over my shoulder as I approach the hostess stand. “Hi, I noticed Mr. King being sat with his family. If you could let him know he has a call at the front. I would appreciate your help. It’s a delicate matter.” The hostess looks uncomfortably to Gretchen and then back to me.
“Um, okay.” She scurries off into the dining room and out toward the outdoor seating area. Holy hell. That asshole is sitting at our table. He’s sitting with his secret family, probably mentally reminiscing about our illicit affair.
“Do you want me to take a walk or stay, Drew?” I look to my friend, and her eyes speak volumes. They’re sad. They match my own.
“Stay. Don’t let me leave until I say all the things…I need to say all the things.”
“I promise.”
There is always a small fraction of time between bravery and regret, and I’ve found myself knee-deep in the latter. I was ready to hand him his ass, and then five minutes pass and now I’m questioning my sanity. Why even bother? There is nothing to gain from this other than to cause a scene and make fools of myself and Gretchen.
Gretchen reaches out to take my hand and squeeze. I sigh resigning my need to walk down this road. I need to walk out of here with my head held high. I turn from the hostess stand and head back out toward the valet when the poor girl I sent out returns.
“Excuse me, ma’am. Mr. King is…” My body freezes, and I turn slowly to see King standing four feet away, looking between Gretchen and me, confused.
“Yes, can I help you?” Is he for real? He’s going to treat me like he doesn’t even know me! My anger ramps back up, and I’m pretty sure the whole “high road” idea is torched.
“No, King, you can’t help me. Not anymore. How’s your family? Of all the bullshit things to do to someone. I can’t believe you had me believing that night—hook, line, and sinker. I’m so stupid. You warned me you were the devil, and I didn’t listen, but let me tell you something: I will hate you for the rest of my life, and if it wasn’t for the sweet baby at the table, I would march over and tell your wife that you are a cheating piece of shit. I hope you die alone and miserable.”
Gretchen puts her hand on my shoulder, and I realize my whole body is leaned forward, spitting my anger out at King.
I look over my shoulder at my friend, embarrassed at my outburst but sadder more than anything. “You said all the things…let’s go, Drew.”
I don’t bother another look at him because I did what I came to do and now I need to leave. I never want to see him again.
“Drew? Drew Matthews?” The way he says my name like it’s foreign in his mouth makes me lurch forward at him. I don’t even know what I’m going to do, but the need to smack him across his humored face is strong.
“Are you kidding? As if you are just remembering me…you really are a sick bastard.”
King closes in on me, and I feel Gretchen pull me back slightly. I won’t budge. I will stand my ground. Nobody ever gets the best of me again. Looking directly into his eyes, I find they’re warm; the intensity is missing, and the huge smile plastered on his face is so friendly. This guy is crazy. Jesus does he have split personalities because he looks like himself, but he doesn’t feel like himself. I feel like my mind is playing tricks on me.
King extends his hand and takes mine, beginning to shake it. My eyes shoot down to our hands, and my mind starts to put all the pieces together. He’s amused, he’s the same but different, something is off…
“It’s very nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Luca. Dom’s twin.”
