Connor laughed dryly. Naturally. “Then she’s not the right woman for you. Believe me!” he snapped. “Do yourself and me a favor and leave!”
Shocked, the guy stumbled back a few steps.
“Connor!” Rachel shouted before softening her voice and saying to her date, “He doesn’t mean it.”
“Oh, but I do mean it,” he said stonily, glaring at the hopeful-looking guy. “Leave.”
It didn’t take long for the guy to convince himself — and a fire burned in Rachel’s eyes when she looked back at him.
“What?” he asked innocently. “Was that wrong? I asked him the most important question, and he gave the wrong answer. Match Me! should fucking hire me. I seem to be the only one who even remotely understands what kind of people are compatible.”
“You turned a job interview into a date!”
“And you found someone else less than twelve hours after I took you on the desk!”
Open-mouthed, she stared at him. Seconds ticked by, stretching into hours. “So, what’s wrong with that?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” he lashed out, looking away. He hated the tight feeling in his chest that reminded him of jealousy. He didn’t get jealous! Not since his high school girlfriend called the football captainhot. So if that wasn’t it…
“Connor,” Rachel whispered, staring at him, “cut the bullshit. Don’t act like you’re suddenly claiming ownership of me just so I don’t win the bet!”
Claiming ownership? No. No, he didn’t want to possess Rachel. He wanted her to give him everything voluntarily. For a few weeks. Months. Until he’d had enough. Until he could think clearly again. Until everything he thought he knew about himself was true again.
“Rachel,” he replied coldly, “if I’m the first to tell you that your apologies suck, it's sad for everyone that has had anything to do with you.”
She pressed her lips together. “I haven’t started apologizing yet.”
“Oh, well then, go ahead,” he said coolly, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m looking forward to it. It’ll be great.”
She closed her eyes. “I hate it when you’re rationally cool even more than when you're yelling,” she murmured barely audibly. “So…go ahead and be irrationally angry again.”
“I can see this isn’t working, so just go home, I have a job interview.”
He wanted to leave. He needed distance from her and the feeling in his chest. But Rachel reached out and gripped his arm.
Her touch was gentle. Hesitant. He could have easily pulled away, but he didn’t want to.
“Connor,” Rachel murmured, her voice sliding over his face like fingers, “I’m…sorry.”
He paused and took a deep breath before turning around. “You’re sorry for what? That you’d rather let people stay in their miserable marriages just so you can claim that eternal love exists? So you can keep convincing yourself that your plaid hero is the one, and that theright oneexists?”
“I don’t let people stay in their miserable marriages!” she said tensely.
“Oh, please, you’re a couples' therapist who…”
“…who’s being fucking sued for telling a woman to dump her shitty husband!” she snapped.
Chapter Fourteen
It’s hard to open up, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep trying.
From the self-help book for self-pitiers by psychologist Rachel James
What? No stupid comment on that? - Rachel
She hadn’t wanted to say it. Connor needed no further proof that her life was a shitshow and she was making bad decisions, but…
“You’re wrong!” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m not in favor of letting an unhappy marriage continue forever. But it’s not my job to tell people what to do. I merely help them make their own decisions. Except for that one damn time that blew up in my face!”
