He still wore the huge sunglasses, but I happened to glance at the bouncer who towered behind him. I could see his entire face and I realized that he looked like he was going to laugh.
Something in me seemed to crack. I felt it like a real pain and I put my palms over my chest where it hurt the most.
“Don’t get like this. Not again,” Dax said. He huffed, huh, like he was angry at my reaction. He always said that I blew things out of proportion.
I looked down at my hands and saw the ring there. “This is fake,” I said. “This isn’t real.”
“What?”
The DJ had stopped the music entirely and I knew that Dax had heard me. “My engagement ring is set with diamond simulants,” I said louder. “My earrings are paste. My gold bracelet isn’t gold, it’s yellow metal. It’s all fake.”
“What?” he repeated. Now the features of the bottom half of his face, below the rims of the big glasses, showed outrage. “That’s not true!”
I nodded. It was true, and the truth was that it was phony. All of this.
“Then I got robbed!” he blustered. “Do you know how much that shit cost?” He pointed at my hand, still covering my chest. That rose and fell very quickly because I was panting like I was back on the treadmill, when my ring had flung across the gym and had briefly been lost. It came off so easily then, and it also did now. I slid it free of my finger.
“This is a lie,” I told him. “This a lie that came from a liar. But I believed you. I believed you!” I held the little circle of fake gems in front of his sunglasses.
“Camille, calm do—”
I threw it as hard as I could. Then I slapped Dax and his sunglasses flew sideways. Suddenly, blood dripped down his face.
“Bitch, what did you do?” a woman screeched, and I saw her launch herself at me. But when I opened my eyes, I was safe.
“Ah, Christ.” The big bouncer had grabbed her right out of the air. “No way, Deb. You’re done.” He carried her away, but I wasn’t paying attention to them. I looked at the huge scratch on Dax’s cheek where the sunglasses had cut him and made a jagged, red line. Those glasses now hung from his ear and his mouth hung open, because he’d been momentarily stunned. I’d never, ever done that to him—I’d never, ever done that to anyone! I started to reach for his face to help him, which was a habit after our nine years together.
He grabbed my arm and pushed it away. “Get out of here,” he yelled. “We’ll deal with this at home. Get the fuck out of here.”
“What?” I gasped, and I watched him walk away. “Dax, wait!” I started to follow, but an arm caught me around the waist.
“No, you’re done, too. I knew this would happen. God damn it, quit fighting.”
I was suddenly up in the air with my feet dangling. One of the shoes that Dax had picked for me fell off my foot as I kicked. “Stop it! Put me down, immediately!” I ordered, but the big bouncer just carried me toward the exit. The doorman opened it for him.
He finally set me on the sidewalk in front of Château Moderne, where I tilted again. This time it was because I wore only one high heel. “Get going before Deb comes out,” he told me. He helpfully pointed up and down the sidewalk to signal the directions that I could choose. “Now.”
“I didn’t mean to hit him!”
“Police don’t care whether you mean it or not. Are you hurt or something?”
I shook my head, but tears still poured down my face. “I think he was having oral sex with that woman,” I gasped.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“He gave me a fake ring,” I said, and I held up my left hand to show the pale circle around my finger. “He was lying all along.”
“Yeah, no…” He stopped. “Do you have somewhere to go?”
I tried to wipe away tears with the backs of my hands. “What?”
He repeated himself and then added, “Do you live together? Is he going to kick you out when he gets home?”
I gulped and tried not to sob. “It’s my home. I mean, it’s my apartment. Only my name is on the lease because his credit isn’t great. He made poor decisions for a few years.”
“Does he have a key to the place? Keep him out, because he’s going to be pissed. You cut him up really good and he’s careful with his face.” He ran his hand, which was the size of my old softball glove, over his own cheeks.
“You know Dax?”
