Page 50 of My Always One

“For my cock? You already did at lunch.”

I shake my head. “For being you and for being there when I told my parents. I’m a bit surprised at their reaction. And perplexed.”

“Perplexed?”

“It seems like everyone saw Jack differently than I saw him. How did I not see what everyone else saw?”

“You’re asking that of a man who has known you most of our lives and just realized what a fucking fantastic rack you have.” He took in a deep breath. “That doesn’t make me the most observant person in this car.”

I turn toward the window.

Marshal’s words fill the silence. “I think sometimes we see what we want to see.”

I look back with a grin. “And you didn’t want to see my breasts?”

He squeezes my knee. “Self-preservation.” His million-dollar smile shines my way. “You have a wicked right hook.”

Music fills the car and seeps from the open windows as Marshal drives us back to my place, away from Johnson and into Grand Rapids. Traffic increases as the scenery changes from fields, trees, and starry skies to stoplights and taller buildings.

Once we get to my condo, Marshal walks with me to the door.

“Does this feel awkward?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, Sami. It feels right, natural, comfortable, and fucking exhilarating all at the same time.”

Nodding, I open the door. As I reach for the light switch and flick it up, I’m face-to-face with Jack.

The next few seconds blur as Marshal steps in front of me and Jack takes a step back.

“Get out,” I say, holding the door open. “And leave your key.”

“Fuck,” Jack says, sidestepping Marshal. “I didn’t think Michaels would be here.”

“I’m here,” Marshal says, puffing his chest. “You heard Sami, get out.” He extends his hand, palm up. “And give me the fucking key.”

“Samantha,” Jack says, ignoring the wall of a man in front of him. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake, but that’s all it was.”

“Your mistake has a name, Jack,” I say. “Ellen is her name. I recognized her. She works at your firm. You introduced us at the dinner with the head partner at The Rooftop. Were you fucking her then?”

“No.”

My hand goes to my hip. “Tell me, is fucking interns part of the program your firm offers? I haven’t looked at the website. Is it spelled out or is that clause only in the fine print.”

“Samantha, stop. It’s not like that.”

I point to our—no, my—bedroom. “You screwed her in our bed.”

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

My lips purse as if I’ve tasted something sour. “You’re pathetic. The flowers were pathetic.” I shake my head. “I was so stupid.”

“Sami,” Marshal says, his voice supportive.

“No, Marshal, I was. I didn’t see Jack for who he is because I didn’t want to.” I spin toward my ex-fiancé. “Now I see what a pathetic excuse of a person you are” —I shake my head— “and I can’t unsee.”

“Samantha,” Jackson says, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I absolve you of your guilt. I actually want to do as Marshal did and thank you. Thank you for showing me your true colors before it was too late.” Stretching out my arms, I spin around. “I can’t tell you how liberating it feels.”

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