After all, it was the first flicker of hope I’d had in almost two years, that maybe, just maybe, she might forgive me.
“Good waves right now,” she said, nodding out to where the setting sun was sparkling over the shore of Ramshackle Bay, making the water look like liquid gold.
And my heart was so full, so ridiculously full, of the fact that she remembered my love of surfing, all the memories rushing back, the love and care, those lazy slow mornings on the beach, Jillian’s eyes squinting against the sun, messy tangled curls, and I wanted it so badly tears heated the corners of my eyes, leaking down my face as I struggled to speak.
“I haven’t been able to surf since—” I choked out. “You are my heart, Jillian. I love you so much.”
She hesitated, and I pressed my advantage eagerly.
“Please—let me tell you the plans I have to prove how I’ve changed.”
I couldn’t interpret the look on her face, but when she said,
“Let’s hear it,” I pulled open the door to the sitting room with an eager cry.
She was willing to listen!
Then my heart stopped.
Christabellewas there, lounging on the couch, in sparkly six-inch high heels, and wearing nothing else but a tiny thong and string bikini top, her whole body greased up like a piglet at a fair.
“Hello, Franklin,” she said in a low, throaty voice.
The sight of her made the bile rise up in my throat. It wasn’t because anything had changed withher. She looked exactly the same as she had two years ago.
But something had changed inme. What had been so seductive before was the lie she had sold me. That I was the kind of man who of course any woman would be obsessed with for ten years. That I was the kind of man any woman would pine away and wait for. That I was so special and naturally irresistible that our love was destined in the stars.
And it had all been a lie, a ridiculous lie that I had believed because of my massive ego.
And what if Jillian believed Christabelle, that I desired her? Was even sleeping with her, instead of loathed the very sight of her!
As Christabelle pursed her plump lips, frosted with pink lipstick, my stomach suddenly gave a nauseating heave and I threw up all over her feet.
“My shoes!” she shrieked.
She shot up like a rocket and looked down in dismay, where my throw-up was dripping down her thighs and pooling between her toes.
“Damn, I just—I saw you and I felt so sick to my stomach I couldn’t stop,” I said miserably.
“Fine, God, I give up with you, Frankie,” Christabelle screeched. “This is the last straw. We’re through!”
“I don’t want you at all!” I said angrily, wiping my mouth.
“You were such a fucking baby, too, all those weeks. My wife this and my wife that.I’d love for you to meet my wifeandI’m sure my wife is going to love you.”
She snorted.
“Then all your guilt. I can’t do this because what about Jillian and blah blah blah. You’re a fuckingwimp, Frankie.”
“I should have never done shit with you,” I said angrily. “It’s the biggest regret of my life.”
“Maybe I’ll try your dad instead,” Christabelle spat. “He looks like a virile man, your mom can’t possibly keep up with him.”
Without another word, she stalked out the door, a whiff of vomit trailing behind her.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Jillian warned, but her voice sounded amused.
Hurrying behind her, we headed up to the deck, just as Jillian burst up like a mole rat, dramatically popping her bikini top off in front of my parents.
