Page 2 of My Super Sexy Spy
Jared was the king of every day ordinary. I needed that in my life.
Only now, on Saturday date night—which was the most routine thing, ever—he was dumping me. Why?
Do youreallycare?
I snuffed out that thought immediately. Of course I cared. Jared was a really nice guy. We texted every day and had sex once a week on Saturday, date night. Then we went to his parents’ for dinner on Sundays and his mother pretended to like me.
It was a perfect relationship. Maybe not the most passionate. Maybe not the most emotional, and part of that was probably my fault, but we were content.
Content was a highly underrated emotion.
Something had to have changed. Jared didn’t just up and decide to dump me without a reason. Something had to have pulled his attention in another direction…
“Wait,” I said, as a thought occurred to me. “Is this abouther?”
He shook his head and slumped back in his chair. “I knew you were going to think that.”
“What’s her name? ZooZoo, ZaaZaa?”
“Zara, and this is not about her,” he insisted, but I didn’t believe him.
“Jared, out of the blue you decide you’re going to take yoga, when I’ve never seen you so much as break into more than a soft trot when it comes to exercise. And not just yoga but emotional therapy yoga, and, after a few classes with ZaaZaa, you’re dumping me.”
“Zara has helped me to see that you’re limiting my potential.”
My jaw dropped. “How the fuck am I doing that?”
That came out pretty loud and I could see his stunned expression.
“Beth,” he admonished me, even as his face turned red. “You never curse.”
No, I never cursedin front of Jaredbecause I knew he considered it to be unfeminine. It’s also why I’d kept my nose piercing tucked up into my nostrils since that night we’d met, and why we only ever had sex in the dark so he couldn’t see my tattoo.
For two years I’d played the part of Jared’s perfect girlfriend, to the point that I’d even won over his parents as much as they could be won over, given that I didn’t have a college degree from an Ivy league school.
I only wore dresses to Sunday family dinner. I always brought a good bottle of wine for his father, and flowers for his mother. We ate things like pot roast with potatoes and carrots and talked about the weather.
It was like being part of a family. A real one with none of the ugly shit around, so no, I didn’t ever curse in front of him. I crossed my feet at my ankles, and I said the right thing every time.
For Jared. For his parents.
“Maybe we should finish this conversation somewhere else if you’re going to get loud,” Jared suggested.
My eyes narrowed as anger started to cut through the pain of what was happening. I’d done everything I could to be the person Jared wanted as his girlfriend. Just so I could have a little of what he’d always had and taken for granted. Only now I was getting tossed aside like garbage.
“Are you fucking ZaaZaa?”
Again, the guy at the table next to us glanced over, but this time I didn’t care. He could join us at our table and get a front-row view if he wanted. Because I was done holding back. I liked to curse. Cursing felt good. It felt fucking freeing!
“No!” Jared shouted, outraged by my language or my suggestion. I wasn’t sure which.
“But you want to,” I concluded, and he didn’t refute it.
“What did I do wrong?” I asked him, slumping in my chair.
He winced and I thought, at least that was something. At least he cared a little that he was hurting me, his seemingly perfect girlfriend of two years. Even if I was really a fake.
“Listen,” he said, leaning forward and lowering his voice. Too late now. Everyone in the tiny Italian restaurant knew what was going on over here. “I like you, Beth. I do. But Zara thinks you’re trapped because…you know…because of everything that happened to you and she thinks you’re trapping me with you.”
