My voice is raspy when I confirm, “You knew she was telling the truth. You knew and let it happen anyway?”
“I told Brielle it was wrong,” he tries to defend himself desperately.
My temper explodes. “What the fuck did she even do it for?”
“Brielle realized by that point you were going pro. That you were taking me along for the ride.”
“So. The. Fuck. What?”
“She felt she deserved to be the one at your side, not Amy.”
I shout, “So, you ruined Amy’s life over what? Status? Greed? Pussy?”
“Yeah, I went too far. But look at what it got you. Fame. Money.” He tries to defend his actions.
I’m on him before he finishes the sentence. My fist slams into his jaw, hard enough to send his head snapping back. I snarl, “Do you want an award for having a moral compass eight years too late?”
He lifts his head. He places a hand against his jaw before muttering, “Brielle played games. She didn’t care about Amy, per se. She wanted status.”
“And you? What did you get out of this?”
His eyes dart away briefly before he confesses, “You as my first major client. I didn’t see how that was going to work with your girlfriend around. I couldn’t spin you quite the same way—star player. Single. The optics…”
“Fuck your optics! Amy was the only thing I wanted in my future,” I shout.
Mark snaps back, “Then be just as pissed with yourself. You didn’t believe Amy. You let Brielle burn it to the ground, Brennan. Not me. Not anyone else. You’re the one who refused to listen to the love of your life,” he hurls back.
My stomach churns acid at a rapid rate hearing his words because despite how wrong everyone else’s actions were, Mark’s speaking nothing but the truth. I open my mouth to counter but he continues, “Brielle hated how you were to her. How everyone assumed Amy would always be in your life—like she was untouchable.”
Broken, I whisper, “And you thought that was reason enough? That Brielle’s obsession made it acceptable to destroy Amy?”
“I was looking out for my future.”
“Whoop. De. Feckin’. Doo.”
“I didn’t think Brielle would go that far,” he whimpers weakly.
Lunging forward, I grip his shirt in my fists and lift him up so his face is practically touching mine. Our breath mingles when I growl, “Don’t you dare dilute your part in this. You could have told me at any time.”And I could have tried to repair us.Desolation flows through me when I realize the true extent of the hurt I imposed on her.
“Every time you brought her up, I tried.”
“Tried. Right. You shut me down every time I mentioned her name over the years.” What I leave unsaid are the number of times Mark encouraged me to find a woman to take my troubles away. How after being photographed with the first one, I puked my guts out still feeling like I was betraying Amy. Hell, I even told him that. Hating myself with a virulence, I whisper, “Why didn’t you say anything? Why?”
His breathing goes shallow. “After, I…I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That I’d lose you.”
“As a client?”
“Yes.”
“As a friend?”
He bobs his head up and down.
“Well, don’t worry about that anymore, yougobshite. Cause now we’re neither.”
