Page 18 of Sweet Valentine

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing. Is that a crime?” she says quietly, rounding my desk and leaning against it right next to me. “I miss you…” she says, trailing her fingers through my hair. I shut my eyes and remember all the horrible and hurtful things she did, all the lies she told, the betrayal and the lost loyalty. I rear back from her touch.

“You miss me?” I yell, standing and walking as far away from her as I can. “How can you miss something you never wanted in the first place?” The anger seeps out of every pore, from every limb, and carries on every word that leaves my mouth. I hate this woman with every fiber of my being, and knowing that she’s here makes me want to burn the place to the ground just to get rid of the memory of her here.

“Of course, I missed you! We were married for four years…doesn’t that mean anything to you?” I stop where I am and turn. We’re across the room from each other, and I can see the hope in her eyes from way over here. I want to laugh. She has no idea how much I don’t want her anymore.

“No, it doesn’t mean anything to me because you spent three of those years lying to me. For God’s sake, Amy, you were taking birth control behind my back!” She rolls her eyes and grabs her purse, walking over to where I’m standing.

“Noah, honey, you know I wasn’t ready for that kind of step. I’ve told you, I didn’t tell you initially because I knew you would be upset.” I start laughing, wondering when this became my reality. I can’t believe she ever thought that lying just because the truth would be hard to hear was a good idea. Then it’s like a brick wall falls on top of me. This is probably exactly what Val felt like when I shut down about my past. Shit, she thinks I’m lying to her about something, and because I’m being evasive, she probably thinks the worst.

I need to get to her. Now.

I push past Amy and head toward my desk. Once there, I gather all my papers and shove them into my bag, knowing I’ll likely be spending the majority of my night at Val’s, apologizing. I might as well bring them with me in case I have a chance to get a few hours of work in.

“Where are you going?” Amy asks, walking toward the door and blocking it so I can’t leave.

“I have somewhere I need to be. So, if you’ll excuse me…” When she doesn’t move, I shove past her and open the door.

“You mean your little girlfriend? That owner of the bakery?” I stop dead in my tracks. How does Amy know about Val? “I know people, too, you know?” she whispers in my ear as she passes me. “You might want to choose a different restaurant next time you decide to flaunt your whores around town. I have eyes everywhere.” My blood starts to boil at her words, but I take a deep breath and face her.

“What did you do?” The look of satisfaction on her face makes my stomach sink, sending my whole body into a nervous spiral.

“Oh, you know, just went for a little chat,” she says, taking something out of her purse. When she holds out the butter tart, my heart sinks, and my whole body goes numb. This cannot be happening right now. “She’s very nice, and a great baker. I’ll give you that. But she’s not your type, Noah. You deserve the best on your arm, and she’s not it.”

“Fuck you, Amy,” I say, spinning her around and leaning into her so her back hits the lockers. My mind wanders to when Val and I were in this exact same position, but this time, my gut wrenches, and I squash the urge to ram my fist through the wall. “You have no idea what I deserve. You never did. I need you to get this through your thick skull. I will never, ever want you back. Even if you destroyed my relationship with Val, I still wouldn’t want you.”

“Ha. You’ll come crying to me when she wants nothing more to do with you.” She looks smug, and it takes everything in me not to slap her.

“Even if Val wants nothing to do with me, I will fight for her. I will fight until the end of time because I know she’s it for me.”

All of a sudden, Amy looks sad, her eyes are downcast, and her fingers play with the edge of her coat. “Why didn’t you ever fight for us like that?” she asks as if it never crossed her mind that it would be a possibility.

“Because I wasn’t in love with you.” She recoils, my words clearly hurting her, but they needed to be said. “What we had was lust, pure and simple.” She gives a slight nod, and her eyes come back to mine. Deep down, I know Amy is a good person. Deep, deep down. But right now, the only person I want to be around, thinks I’m married and that I lied to her for the last month.

“I need to leave. Now,” I say, not paying any attention to Amy or the fact that my classroom is still wide-open. I race to my car, open the door, and make my way to Val’s. I call and call and call, but she never answers. So, I do the only thing I know I can do. I drive.

I need to fix this.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Another one,” I mutter, banging the glass on the bar top and hoping the bartender

gives me at least one more. I have no idea what time I got here, or what time it is now. All I know is that the world is a little hazy, and I need this. I need to forget the last few hours—hell, the last month.

“You sure you want another one?” the bartender says. I nod, not looking at him because I know the minute I meet his eyes, he’ll see how broken I am and make me leave. I can’t leave. Noah is outside that door. Reality is out there. And reality is something I can’t face right now. Right now, I can only face the next drink, other than that, I want it all to disappear.

“Shit.” I hear muttered behind me, and I dip my head forward, my fingers gripping the glass in front of me like a lifeline. “This can only mean one thing, what did he do?” Mandy asks as she sits on the empty stool beside me and wraps one of her arms around my shoulders. I fight the urge to rip away from her and tell her to leave, but I know it won’t do any good. So, I do the next best thing. I take a sip of my drink and ignore her question. My phone vibrates on the bar top, and it doesn’t take a genius to know who it is. When I read his name, and see the picture that I took of him a few weeks ago while he was kissing my cheek, the tears start to form, and I palm the offensive device and throw it in my purse. I would actually like to throw it against a wall but…one, I don’t have the money to get a new phone, and two, I don’t think the bar would appreciate that.

“He’s married,” I mutter as I take another sip and fight the onslaught of tears that are beginning to fall down my cheeks. Just hearing those words come out of my mouth makes me want to hurl. How could I have been so stupid! I knew he was hiding something. I hoped it was a crazy ex or maybe a long-lost child. But married? That takes the cake.

“He’s what?!” Mandy yells. The gazes of the other people in the bar bombard me, so I turn to her. The moment our eyes meet, her gaze softens. “Oh, sweetheart…” The term of endearment allows another pit to form in the depths of my soul, and the flood gates open. I crumble right there at the bar, holding a glass of whiskey that tastes like ass but not caring in the least because, up until now, it was helping me forget.

“Shh,” Mandy whispers as she envelops me in her arms and lets me cry it out. I must look like an insane person because I’m full-on sobbing now. Giant tears stain my face as I explain what happened. The weird conversation with Noah the night before, the woman coming into the shop, and then the bombshell of him being married. Throughout the whole story, Mandy remains silent. She sits there and wipes away my tears, though I know that, all the while, she’s been beating the crap out of Noah in her mind.

“Okay,” Mandy starts. I know just by the way her hands are up, and her eyes are wide that whatever she’s about to say is probably going to piss me off. “I don’t want you to get mad at me. I’m just playing devil’s advocate here, okay?” I nod. “What if he’s not married?” I look at her blankly. She can’t be serious.

“Considering the evidence stacked against him, I would say that’s a long shot.” I take another sip of my drink and grimace. Who the fuck invented whiskey, and why does it have to burn like someone poured battery acid down my throat?

“Hear me out. What if he was married?” What the hell is she getting at? This whole conversation is giving me even more of a headache.

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