Page 91 of All of You

I didn’t want to drag this out, but I hadn’t talked about it yet, except to my therapist, and that had been one big, pathetic whining tirade, and I didn’t know how to even think about it any other way.

“Have you spoken with her since she got back?” he asked, and I wondered if he was avoiding saying her name for my sake.

“I don’t know if she’s back.” That should make it clear I’d had no communication and had been off social media completely.

Erin glanced at me as she shoved one pizza stone into the top oven. “She is.”

I sipped my beer, watched Flint’s cat meander into the kitchen and start his path of weaving between each set of legs, begging for attention. The cat was shameless and endearing because of it.

“Did you know she wrote that song about you?” Flint asked, pinning me with that intense stare so I had nowhere to go.

“I did not,” I admitted.

“No clue?”

I stretched my neck to one side, then the other. “You remember what I was like the first few weeks back. I put the black-out in black-out drunk. I’m pretty sure it was on one of those nights, and obviously enough, I don’t remember anything about that week or two before I at least tried to stay conscious.”

I’d paid penance for that time. I’d worked through it. But realizing that I’d had an interaction with someone like Whit and had no memory of it created no small amount of shame in me.

Our interaction had been influential enough for her that she’d walked away and created something from it. Something meaningful. Something I’d found to be meaningful, and I’d had no idea it was about me.

No wonder it had always felt so familiar.

I’d walked away from it and probably puked my guts out the next day, remembering nothing but that I’d spent fifty bucks on booze and a taxi ride home. Maybe I even woke up to someone I didn’t remember talking to, much less sleeping with.

That thought sent a fresh flash of frustration and fear through me. It could have even been Whit, and I never would have known. The very behavior that’d been the catalyst for my change, for the promise I’d made myself and that had kept me from sleeping with Whit, was potentially something that had had me with her without even knowing.

My cheeks were burning, but Flint and Erin gave me a moment to work through my thoughts before he continued.

“So you found out Sunday night? That’s how she told you?”

“Me and everyone else watching.”

I wished the bitterness in my voice wasn’t something I actually felt. I wished the significance of her saying those words at that moment wasn’t so huge—that it was just her telling me this secret she’d kept, and that was all we had to work through. Instead, it had been the end of our relationship, the end of anything real between us.

Flint cursed, which had my eyes jumping to him because he, as a rule, didn’t curse. “I’m sorry, Ben. Truly.”

“It’s fine,” I said, not believing it.

“It’s not. You know it’s not. I’m certain Whit knows it’s not.” He pulled Erin to him as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

Erin looked at me with a regretful smile as she leaned into Flint. “She definitely knows. She has put on a good face in interviews, but she clearly knows—I can tell she’s not all right.”

Despite myself, a spike of alarm shot through me. “Is she okay? Why do you say that?”

She gave me a sweet smile. “She’s just… it’s hard to explain, but she seems different in interviews. And people keep asking her about you guys, and she’s being very evasive.”

A bitter laugh escaped. “I’m sure it’d be inconvenient if it came out we’re not together anymore.”

I would have liked that to sound harsh, sharp, but it only sounded sad.

“I know it’s wrong she didn’t tell you, but is it really something you can’t forgive?” Erin asked.

I bought time by swigging my beer. “If that was the only issue, I could get over it.”

Her brows rose while Flint watched with his eagle eyes. “Then what?—”

“It was all for show. All of it. It started with a signed contract, and over Christmas, I thought we essentially shredded that and started off at the beginning of a real relationship. I missed all the signs that it was still fake. I was an idiot, and as angry as I am with her, I’m mostly just disappointed in myself.” I set my bottle down and crossed my arms.

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