Page 109 of The Most Perfect Wrong

Her eyes meet mine, but they’re clouded with fear. “I don’t want you to know these things.”

I pause, choosing my words. “I’m not going to push you, but…” I cup her cheek gently, my thumb grazing her skin. “I want to understand.”

She takes a deep, trembling breath, rolling to her side so we’re eye-to-eye. Her gaze locks on mine for a moment before she speaks. “I’m afraid,” she admits. “I’m afraid that if you know certain things about me… about my past… you won’t—” She swallows hard, blinking rapidly as tears threaten. “You won’t want to be with me.” She closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers, the words breaking on a sob.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“No.” Her voice catches, and she takes another shaky breath. “You don’t understand. I’m not a good person, Ryan. Not like you.” A tear escapes, rolling down her cheek. “You’re too good for me. I don’t deserve someone like you. And when you know how…” She trails off.

My brows pull together as I force a smile, hoping to ease her fears. “Hey,” I say, my thumb brushing away the tear on her cheek. “Don’t you dare break up with me before I have the chance to make you my girlfriend.”

Her hand moves to cover mine on her cheek, and I let my words settle.

“See?” she says, a laugh breaking through her tears. “You’re too good. God. Where did you come from?”

I lean in and kiss her fiercely, cupping her face in my hands. “You can tell me anything. I don’t care about your past. I care about the person you are now. I don’t scare that easily.”

She nods, but her eyes still hold doubt. “Are you sure? Because you left Beth after twelve years… and she made one mistake. I’ve made a hundred.”

Fuck. That lands hard, straight to the gut, but I push the feeling aside.

I take a steadying breath. “Coop… just tell me.”

She hesitates, biting her lip, then whispers, “Fine. But I feel like I should start packing now… for when you ask me to leave after.”

I sigh, moving closer. “Come on. Have some faith in me.”

“Okay.” She hesitates. “I guess I’ll start at the beginning. Kind of a funny story, actually. The first time I gave a blow job, I didn’t even know what it was.” She lets out a hollow laugh, the kind that makes my stomach twist. “I had a crush on this guy, Jared, and his friend Gavin told me if I blew him, he’d get Jared to ask me out. Said Jared liked me but didn’t think I was interested. I was fourteen. I didn’t even know what he meant. So, he pulled his dick out, and I blew on it.”

I smile softly as her laugh fades into an uneasy silence. In a different context, it might be funny, but this? Not in the slightest.

“Of course, Jared didn’t ask me out. Not at first. But he did ask for sexual favors—promised he’d make me his girlfriend if I gave him a blow job, or let him go down on me…” She pauses, her voice cracking. “Or if I slept with him.”

Tears streak down her cheeks, faster now, and I feel like my chest is caving in. “He eventually made me his girlfriend, you know, because then he could have sex with me whenever he wanted. Not that it stopped him from sleeping with everyone else. I was a freshman, and he was a junior, captain of the JV football team. Girls threw themselves at him, and he didn’t turn them down.”

This kid was a complete piece of shit. “Why didn’t you break up with him?” I ask softly, anger burning beneath my words.

“I tried,” she says softly. “We’d fight, and I’d threaten to break up with him. Then he’d talk me into staying—tell me he loved me, that he’d do anything for me, get me anything. God,I was so young, so naive.” She pauses, glancing at me like she’s bracing for judgment, but I stay silent, letting her continue.

“I realized I had something those other girls didn’t—experience. I knew him, knew what he liked, what he didn’t. And even though he had power over me, I learned I could use sex to get what I wanted. If he cheated and still wanted sex from me? Fine. Take me shopping first. It was sick, but it worked until he left for college and broke up with me.”

She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “At that point, I was just known as Jared’s girlfriend. Everyone knew who I was and that I put out. The guys who asked me out all expected something, and I had this ‘fuck them’ attitude. Like, ‘You want to use me? Fine, I’ll use you.’”

Her laugh is brittle, a sharp edge of self-loathing in it. “Basically, all through high school, I was a bargaining chip for guys. The good ones never asked me out—they weren’t the type to date someone like me. And when I did have a boyfriend, he was never faithful.” She scoffs. “I was such a shitty teenager. I’d sneak off to smoke in the parking lot, and I was getting drunk at fifteen. Honestly, drinking made it easier to do what they wanted.”

She shifts, meeting my gaze briefly before looking away. “I even stole shit. I was a little thief.

“By senior year, I started to straighten out. My mom was threatening to kick me out, and my dad agreed I couldn’t live with him. They both expected me to get into a good college. Somehow, I’d managed to keep my grades up, but high school was hell. The girls were bitches, the guys were predators, and I just wanted to escape. So, I worked my ass off, graduated early, and got into Northwestern by some miracle—and a sorority.”

She exhales. “By then, I’d only ever been in toxic relationships. I liked sex—a lot—but the way I used it was anything but healthy. College didn’t help. My sorority was full ofpretty girls who loved to party, and we had a reputation for it. I had one boyfriend, Damion, who was actually great to me, but that only lasted three months before he moved away.”

Her voice tightens as she shifts uncomfortably. “Then there was this math class I was struggling in. My professor was cute. I was nineteen, and he was thirty. I don’t know if he knew things about me or just sensed them, but one day after class, he pulled me aside and said there was a way I could bring my grade up.” She scoffs. “I bet you can guess what it was. I went along with it. We ended up together for months. He told me he loved me.”

She hesitates, her shoulders trembling as she shakes her head. Her voice cracks as she continues. “God, Ryan… I didn’t know.” Her hands cover her face, and she chokes on a sob.

My heart breaks at the sight of her. “It’s okay,” I say gently, reaching for her hand. “What didn’t you know?”

She looks at me, her eyes red, full of hurt and worry. “That he was married.” Her voice gives way. “God, I was the other woman—and I didn’t even know.”

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