After dinner, we settled onto the couch to relax. Eric once again had Chili in his lap alongside his iPad, and he scrolled apartment listings while we watched the latest dark drama series. Emphasis ondark, too.
“Has everyone in Hollywood forgotten how to use lights?” I grumbled, squinting at the screen. “Why is every show like this now?”
“Ugh. I’ve heard they’re doing it for movies to encourage people to watch them in the theater. But TV shows—I mean, what’s the point?”
“Probably some conspiracy involving Big Optometry or something.”
Eric snorted. “What? To get us all buying stronger glasses?”
“Makes sense, if you think about it,” I deadpanned. “Strain our eyes until we’re?—”
The doorbell rang.
We both looked up, then at each other.
“Delivery?” Eric asked.
“Not that I’m expecting.” I paused the TV, grabbed my phone, and peered at the screen. Then I damn near threw the fucking thing. “You havegotto be kidding me.”
Eric straightened. “What? What’s wrong?”
I got up and brushed past him, growling, “It’s Selena.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah. My thought exactly.” Heading for the door, I added, “I’ll handle this.”
He stayed put, and I didn’t blame him.
At the door, I paused to steel myself. Then I opened it, and sure enough, I found my ex-girlfriend standing on the Welcome mat, her expression pitiful. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were red with heavy circles underneath. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, which was unusual for her.
My stomach knotted with guilt and queasiness as I realized that just a few short weeks ago, I’d have been falling all over myself to make sure she was okay. Inviting her in. Holding her. Listening to her. Letting her cry. Asking how I could help. Asking what she needed.
Undoubtedly giving her a few orgasms because that was always what she needed when she came over.
Masking a disgusted shudder, I asked flatly, “What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?” I folded my arms and pressed my shoulder against the doorframe. “For which part? Lying to me? Cheating with me? Cheatingonme?”
“About… About everything.” Those puppy dog eyes weren’t going to work. Not this time. “I screwed up.”
“By cheating or by getting caught?”
Irritation broke through the contrition, and she scowled as she shifted her weight. “Look, I wastryingto figure out how to break things off with him, and I?—”
“Uh-huh.” I inclined my head. “So you would’ve canceled the wedding, then?”
She blinked, staring at me in surprise. Then her eyes started to well up, and she looked away as she fidgeted some more. “I would’ve had it annulled. I couldn’t—there were so many people coming, and there was so much money tied up in it, I panicked whenever I thought about canceling the whole thing. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it was just such a mess and…” Her shoulders dropped. “I’m so sorry, Jesse.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
She watched me, clearly confused at my lack of a reaction. Then her eyes darted past me, and her spine straightened. “What areyoudoing here?”
I turned as Eric stepped more fully into the foyer. Gaze fixed on her, he shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I could ask you the same thing, but I’m pretty sure I know.”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish’s as her eyes darted back and forth between us. I didn’t think it was possible to catch her as off-guard as we had in the kitchen the other day, but apparently it was. Her speechless shock would’ve been comical had the circumstances been less fucked up.
