I want to.
“I had a girlfriend a few years ago,” I say. “It started out innocent enough. She stayed here a few nights here and there, and eventually, she lived here. I didn’t even realize it at the time. I guess, in retrospect, I wasn’t around a lot and didn’t really question why she was here when I got home. I figured she just wanted to see me.”
“Makes sense.”
“But she didn’t. She’d pretty much just moved in. And when it got to be too much for me—when things settled down a bit at work,and I was home more and kind of put two-and-two together, it got bad.”
“How do you mean?” she asks.
“Well, we weren’t compatible. Not to be living together twenty-four seven. But I knew that. She was never that kind of person for me, and my lackadaisical approach with her was the wrong and irresponsible way to handle it.”
“Surely, she knew that, though,” Blaire says.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it matters because even if she did, it doesn’t change what happened.” My lip hurts as I bite down to brace myself for the flood of memories. “Kendra was really big into the social aspect of Savannah. Her parents are deeply embedded in the clubs and charities and all that shit that goes down behind the scenes.”
“Are you? I mean, are you a part of that scene?”
I try hard not to roll my eyes. “Yes. I am. Mostly because I grew up in it and operate a business here. It’s good for networking and for giving back to our community. But I don’t care about the rest of it—the balls and cocktail hours and all that shit.”
“But Kendra did.”
“She did. And because she assumed, I guess, that we were a permanent thing, she positioned herself as such. I had no idea.”
I run a hand down my face as I remember the night I realized what happened.
“I got an invitation in the mail addressed to a Mr. and Mrs. Holt Mason. Needless to say, I was confused. And I was downright shocked when she sort of offhandedly mentioned that it was from one of her friends in New York. I started putting different pieces together.”
My chest squeezes as I recall the events of the next twenty-four hours.
The black stains that marred her face. My utter confusion. The ugliness of the words thrown back and forth.
“Unbeknownst to me, she had moved in. Let her apartment go. Started getting mail at my house. I’d never seen us like that, but she obviously did.” I blow out a breath. “I tried to rationalize with her, but she wasn’t having it. And it just … devolved from there.”
My heartbeat quickens as freeze-frame images flash before my eyes.
I force a swallow down my throat. The passage is constricted as a wash of emotions reminiscent of that day flow through me.
A chill rips down my spine.
“When I got home from work the next day, she was gone,” I say, the words tinged with an anger I choke back. “And my house was a disaster. Paint in the bed. Broken windows. My clothes and belongings strewn around the house and in the pool. It was … it took weeks to clean it up.”
And even longer for me to trust anyone again.
“I sat in the bed, in the middle of the paint and broken glass, completely numb. It felt surreal. A complete violation of my trust. I questioned everyone and everyone’s motives for a long time after.”
Maybe I still do.
My eyes find Blaire’s again. She’s watching me carefully.
“Wow,” she says. “I’m sorry. For you both, really.”
“She didn’t come around for a long time. She didn’t show up at the events that she never missed even before all of this. No one heard from her, and her parents wouldn’t talk to me when I tried to check on her. They still won’t speak to me when I see them around.”
“That’s not your fault, though,” she says. “You didn’t make a commitment to her.”
“But I didn’t take care of her as I should’ve. I should’ve been clear from the start. I guess I assumed too many things too.” I sigh. “My life goes a million miles per hour sometimes. I’m responsible for so many people, so many families. It’s all I can do to keep my head above water most days—but that’s my choice. I love it. Kendra got sucked in and spit out, and I blame myself for that. Even if I didn’t mean to do it.”
I push my chair under my desk and then lean against it.
