Page 52 of Going All In

Correction. My aunt caught them, and instead of stopping them, she came and got me so I could see what was going on. And then she told everyone else. My entire extended family was there when he defended himself, telling me it was because I was too rigid, that I was bad in bed. That he couldn’t help himself, that it was my fault.

The last straw was when I heard my aunts talking about it in the ladies’ room, when they thought I couldn’t hear. About how there must be a hint of truth to what he was saying. How it must be at least a little my fault.

“I know I fucked up. I’m sorry. I wasn’t the man you deserved,” he says, but there’s no truth there. He’s not sorry. He just wants what he wants, regardless of who he hurts to get it. I didn’t see his selfishness back then, but it’s clear as fucking day now.

And that he wasn’t the man I deserved just might be the first truthful thing he’s said to me.

“And I know I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I’m just asking for a chance to make it up to you.” His eyes fix on mine, beseeching. “Please, Holly. I still love you. Don’t give up on us.”

I’m momentarily speechless. Don’tgive up on us? Three years after he ruined me, he has the gall to sayI’mgiving up onhim?

“Fuck you, Jared.” I slam the door before he can make a move to keep it open. I want to sink to the ground with my back to the door, all dramatic like they do in movies, but there’s a good half inch of space between the bottom of the door and the fake hardwood flooring, and Jared would see me.

So instead, I latch the chain and turn the deadbolt before I retreat to my bedroom, where I do a beautiful impression of a Disney princess by flopping dramatically on my bed and starting to sob.

* * *

For someone who didn’t want to give up on us, Jared seemed to give up pretty easily. He knocked for a few more minutes after I slammed the door, then nothing. I gave it thirty minutes before I checked, and he was gone.

I should be relieved that he left. I’m not interested in talking to Jared, let alone rekindling anything. But now the emotions of that day—The Incident—are piling up and ready to come pouring out of me. I need to talk to someone, share some of these overwhelming feelings that are now spilling out of my eyeballs and, to some extent, my nose.

A text to JJ goes unread for almost fifteen minutes. I don’t want to interrupt her if she’s with Justin, anyway. Most of my other good friends have moved out of the city. They’re good for a phone call, but I need someone here. Honestly, I need a hug. I just need to be held tight, wrapped in the safety of someone’s embrace to shield me from everything that’s weighing on me right now.

Addison is an option, but I don’t know her very well yet. Definitely not well enough to show up on her doorstep. I don’t want to bother my dad with this.

Before I’ve really thought it through, I’ve taken a cab the twelve blocks to Maddox’s apartment and am knocking on the door.

* * *

I’ve held in the sobs until now, but when I hear his footsteps coming to the door, the dam breaks. When he pulls the door open, the tears are streaming down my face in fat droplets.

“Maddox?” I manage. “Can I come in?”

He pulls the door open wider, letting me inside, and I fall into his outstretched arms. His chest is strong and sturdy while I cry into it. He just holds me, kissing my forehead and murmuring reassuring words that I barely register.

It feels like forever before I finally pull it together and start to explain my meltdown.

Maddox’s brows furrow. “Who’s Jared?”

Right, I haven’t told him about the guy who screwed me up for life.

“He’s my-my ex. We were together for two years, back when I was in grad school. He—” The words stick in my throat.

Maddox waits patiently for me to pull it together. He doesn’t jump in, and right now, I love him for that.

I pull in a deep breath. “He-he cheated on me. At my mom’s funeral. It’s why—” A tear runs down my cheek as the shame surrounds me.

Maddox’s arms circle me again, and I lean against him for support, needing some of his strength right now.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he says. “I apologize on behalf of men everywhere. We’re idiots, as a general rule. But it sounds like this Jared isn’t just an idiot. It sounds like he’s a douche-nozzle of the highest degree.”

I laugh through my tears. “You don’t even know him.”

“Don’t have to. The very fact that he could look at another woman when he had you tells me he has the brains of a squid. And the fact that he made you cry means he’s an ass clown.”

The giggling has surpassed the crying, and now I can’t stop. “Brains of a squid?”

He shrugs. “Pretty sure squids are dumb. Or another stupid animal. Maybe a salamander. Or a koala.”

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