“Micky,” a female voice purrs. “Don’t be like that.”
I turn to find a statuesque blonde with premium cleavage rising high above her painted-on tank. She must be his neighbor, and it’s obvious a cup of sugar isn’t on her agenda.
“I hate storms,” she says, pouting. “I thought we could ride it out together. Pick up where we left off the other night.”
What other night? Saturday? Had he gone straight from my place to hers, slaking his lust with another woman? A woman with a center-fold body.
“I’m busy, Lisa.”
She ducks under his arm, stretched across the doorframe, and sees me.
“Oh.” She takes stock of my fat body in Mick’s sweats and my unruly hair. Smirking, she snakes her arms around his neck and rubs against him.
Déjà vu.
I feel sick. I’m a fool for letting myself fall for Mick again. Any confidence restored by his desire for me blurs, and the self-esteem I’ve worked so hard to build crumbles into dust.
His voice rises, but I can’t hear the words. My mind is pulling me through a time tunnel. To the night I saw Mick with another girl…the betrayal…the heartache…the loss.
“I’m sorry about that,” he says after slamming the door. “She’s—”
“Don’t.” I put up a quivering hand. “Don’t say another word.”
“Jesus, Dee. Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. There’s nothing going on between Lisa and me. She wanted you to believe that to make you jealous. She took one look at this situation and sized it up: You’re someone special to me. A beautiful woman who doesn’t have to go to extremes to get a man to notice her.”
The pretty words he’s so good at bounce off me. Only years of practice at reining in my emotions enable me to dam the flood of tears pushing behind my lids. Staking out a defensive position at the window, I hug myself tightly, holding the breaking pieces together, refusing to fall apart in front of him. “Lisa’s a sure bet for the night,” I say, powering the strength in my voice. “I’m not. So if you’ll give me back my keys, I can get going and leave you to pick up where you left off Saturday night or whenever with your lover.”
“She’s not my lover,” he says, stalking closer.
“Your fuck buddy, your neighbor with benefits—whatever term you use. I really don’t care,Micky.”
His jaw turns to iron. “Don’t call me that. I’ve never slept with Lisa or wanted to.”
His lie is flagrant.
“Do you really think after what happened between us on Saturday, I would have gone to another woman then or since?”
“Yes. I think women are interchangeable to you. When one’s not around, another one will do just fine.”
He comes closer, his steps menacing. His eyes are hard and narrowed. “That’s bullshit. Don’t you know me any better than that when it comes to you?”
“Oh, I know just how you are when it comes to me.”
He moves even closer. His look is scathing. “And how am I?”
I try to hold it down, but the hurt wells up from the pit of my fractured soul. “You’re aliarand acheatwho destroyed everything that ever mattered to me.”
MY STEP FALTERS.
Her accusation drowns my temper like a fire hose dousing a lit candle. This isn’t about Lisa. “You’re a liar and a cheat”can mean only one thing. Dee knows. Somehow she found out. That’s my crime. That’s why she left. Acid heat burns in my gut, and my heart jackhammers against the wall of my chest.
“I never cheated on you. Not in the way—”
“Liar!” she yells. Her voice is shrill, her face twisted. “I was there. You were on your deck, shirtless. Tamara Scott was straddling your lap, and you were gripping her hips and kissing her. All but fucking her right in front of my eyes. And Victor was behind you at the glass doors, toasting you, celebrating your score.”
Her vivid play-by-play delivers a deathblow to my throat. “Dee…” I croak. “It wasn’t like that.”
“I saw you!” She comes at me, her eyes more violent than the storm. “After everything you promised, how could you do that to me?”
