I look up at Whitley, who’s already mouthinghang upwith a fierce expression, her eyes blazing with protective fury.
“I—” My voice cracks. “Who answered your phone?”
There’s a pause. A long one. I can practically hear him scrambling for an explanation.
“That’s…my cousin,” he finally says. “She’s visiting from out of town.”
The lie is so obvious, so ridiculous that I almost laugh. Almost.
“Your cousin,” I repeat flatly.
Whitley’s face contorts into silent outrage. She mouths something that looks suspiciously likeI’ll kill him.
The woman’s voice giggles in the background again. “I better not be your cousin after I just had your co?—”
Fabric rustles on the other end of the line before a door slams. “Vi, I can explain.”
“You’re with someone else right now.” It’s not a question. I don’t need it to be. “You…had another woman over after dinner last night?”
“It’s not what you think.”
Whitley grabs her coffee mug, then her keys, and finally a steak knife from the drawer. I blink at her.
“You better put your dick away before I get there, Travis,” she calls out. “Or I’m taking it as a fucking souvenir!”
I burst out laughing, a sound so unexpected it startles even me. It bubbles up from somewhere deep inside, somewhere that’s been locked away for months. The laughter is cleansing, like rain after a drought.
“Whitley, put that down,” I manage between gasps of laughter.
She glares at me, still clutching the steak knife like she’s genuinely considering following through on her threat.
Travis makes a choked sound on the other end of the line. “Violet?—”
“Actually, Travis,” I say, my voice steadying, “you just made my life so much easier. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you it’s over, and here you’ve gone and done the hard part for me.”
There’s delayed silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I think Travis might have hung up. Then his voice returns, colder than I’ve ever heard it.
“Is that how we’re playing this? I wouldn’t have needed to look elsewhere if you’d just put out like a normal girlfriend.”
The words hit me like ice water. My laughter dies in my throat.
“You’re hardly the victim here,” he continues. “You’re the one who made excuses every time things got heated. What was I supposed to do?”
Whitley lunges for the phone, but I step back, holding it away from her. As much as I want to hang up, I need to hear this.
“So…you cheated because I wouldn’t sleep with you. Instead of just talking to me about it?”
“What did you expect, Violet? Men have needs. And you—you’re like this perfect little ice queen. Looking so sweet and untouchable. It’s exhausting pretending you’re enough when you won’t even?—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I snap, finding my voice. I should be livid, and I suppose I am, but the relief coursing through me overtakes everything else. All the guilt, all the anxiety about hurting him—gone in a blissful instant.
It appears I’ve dodged a serious bullet.
Whitley sets the knife down with a dramatic sigh. She tilts her head and glances at my phone, then back to my face. One eyebrow lifts in a silent,permission?
I don’t answer. I just slide the phone across the counter and reach for another glorious peach ring.
“Bye, cousin fucker!” Whitley chirps, leaning in to jab the End Call button with far more enthusiasm than necessary.
