Page 66 of Blindsided

When he opens the door, his confusion morphs into anger faster than I can track. “I don’t want to talk to you.” He starts to shut the door, but I push forward into his apartment.

“Des, please. I hate this. It’s not what I wanted.”

He scoffs. “What did you want, then? Me to jump for joy that the two people I care about the most betrayed every ounce of trust I had?”

“I just… We weren’t sure if it would turn into anything. We figured we’d tell you if it got serious, and then I got scared you’d react like this, so I kept putting it off. Matty wanted to tell you a while ago, but I was the one who kept saying no. So, if you’re going to be mad at someone, be mad at me.”

“Oh, trust me. I am,” he practically growls. “But he never should’ve touched you in the first place. I trusted him to keep you safe. Instead, I find out he’s been using your situation just to get his rocks off, so I have every right to be pissed.”

I cross my arms over my chest, anger beginning to rise at his high-handedness. “You don’t know Matthew very well if you believe he used me. Hell, you don’t know me at all if you think I would’ve let him. He loves me. And I love him. More than any other man I’ve ever dated. I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with him, so fuck you and your shitty belief in your own best friend.”

Hurt flashes in Desmond’s eyes before they turn steely again. “Get out.”

“No, we need to talk this out, Desmond. You can’t honestly believe Mathew would hurt me.”

“It’s not about that anymore. We’re long past that. It’s the fact that my best friend lied to me. Straight to my face. For months. Now leave.” He turns around and walks down the hallway to his bedroom.

My heart is hammering as I watch him walk away from me. Everything inside feels ripped to shreds. We’re never going to recover from this. He’s too angry and, apparently, so am I.

I walk out of Desmond’s building in a daze. Nothing truly registers, and I find myself walking into a coffee shop. I just need to sit down for a second. Get my bearings before I go back to the hotel. I thought I’d have to stay a couple more days to get things wrapped up, but after my conversation with Veronica this morning, I guess I can fly home tomorrow.

Tears fill my eyes. I don’t want to leave when things with Desmond are this shaky. I feel like if I go home now, we’re never going to get over this fight. He’ll have multiple states’ worth of distance between us and, with that, the ability to hold on to his anger.

I drop my head into my hands. I’m sure I look ridiculous crying in a public space. I just don’t have the wherewithal to make it back to my hotel at the moment.

“Are you okay?” someone asks me. I sniff as I look up. A young guy sits across from me, wearing a polo and dark-framed glasses. He’s a decent-looking guy, but he only makes me miss Matthew.

“Sorry, that’s probably a dumb question. Of course, you’re not okay.” He sets down two cups of coffee and then hands me a couple of napkins.

I swipe the tears off my face and then blow my nose. I couldn’t care less how gross he finds that. “I’ll be fine.”

“I bought this coffee for my sister, but I think you may need it more than she will.” He slides the cup toward me.

“You don’t need to do that. I just need to gather myself, and then I’m going home.” Hopefully sooner than tomorrow if I can get a flight. I just need Matthew’s arms around me.

“Then a coffee will give you something to focus on instead. Do you live in the city?”

“No.” A smile curls at my mouth at that answer. It’s true now. I don’t live in the city anymore. The idea helps to give me something happy to focus on.

The man in front of me seems to deflate. “Oh, well, hopefully whatever made you sad won’t deter you from coming back to the city.”

I shrug. “I’m not sure.” If Desmond stays mad, it just might keep me from coming back. No. I refuse to think that. We’ll get this worked out. I’ll make sure of it.

I swipe at my eyes again as the waiter comes over with the muffins. I put the napkins in my steadily growing pile and grimace. Gross.

“Here.” The guy in front of me slides the plate toward me, along with containers of sugar and creamer. I add a couple of creamers to my coffee. A little sweetness sounds like exactly what I need right now.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so.” I sip my coffee. It’s surprisingly delicious.

“Good.”

A few more sips have me feeling steadier, so I decide to take my leave. “Thanks for the coffee. It was kind of you to sit with me.” I go to stand up, but a wave of dizziness takes over. I grab the table to keep myself upright.

“Whoa, hang on there.” The man grabs my arm. “Let’s get you outside for some air. You don’t look so good.”

I let him help me outside. The dizziness only gets worse, and my brain starts to go fuzzy.

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