Sage sighs and disappears, returning with paper towels. She’s been so patient with me this past week, so understanding, letting me crash here, cry here, basically fall apart here.
I’m a terrible friend.
A terrible everything.
“He lied to me,” I say, not for the first time tonight. Probably not even for the tenth time. “He looked me in the eye and lied.”
“I know, babe.”
“For weeks. Months. However long we were together.” The timeline is fuzzy right now.
Everything is fuzzy.
“He let me believe he was Nitro. Just this normal guy who drove Uber and played flute and made me feel special.”
“Youarespecial, babe.”
“But he’s Damon Blackwell.” The name tastes bitter on my tongue. “He’s a billionaire, Sage. A fucking billionaire who was slumming it with the fat girl from advertising because what? It was fun? Because it was different?”
“That’s not…”
“He probably has arealgirlfriend somewhere. Someone thin, beautiful, and appropriate for a man like him. Someone who doesn’t have to shop in the plus-size section or wear glasses or—”
“Marley, stop!” Sage’s voice is sharp, cutting through my rant. “You’re spiraling.”
“I’m allowed to spiral!” I push myself off the sofa, stumbling slightly. “My boyfriend, my fake boyfriend who became my real boyfriend, is secretly a billionaire who lied to me about his entire identity. Surely, I’m allowed to be upset about that!”
“You are. You’re absolutely allowed. But you’re not allowed to talk about yourself like that.”
I wave my hand dismissively, nearly losing my balance. “Whatever.”
Sage watches me with worried eyes. “I need to run out and grab some food. We haven’t eaten all day, and you need something in your stomach besides wine.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re absolutelynotfine. You haven’t been fine since you found out.” She grabs her purse and keys. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”
“Can’t promise that.”
She gives me a look but leaves anyway, and suddenly I’m alone in the apartment with my thoughts, my wine, and my shattered heart.
I love him.
God, I love him so much it physically hurts.
That’s the worst part.
Not the lying, not the betrayal, but the fact that even knowing everything, even understanding that our entire relationship was built on a foundation of lies, I still love him.
I still want him.
I still miss him with an ache that feels as though it’s eating me from the inside out.
My phone sits on the coffee table, screen dark and silent. I’ve blocked his number. Returned everything he gave me. Cut off all communication because staying in touch would only make this more complicated.
But right now, drunk, hurting, and so incredibly lonely, all I want is to hear his voice.
I pick up the phone before I can talk myself out of it.
