Page 61 of The Most Perfect Wrong

“Baby.” He takes my hand in his. “I don’t want to fight anymore. Can we just let this whole work trip thing go? Start tonight with a clean slate?”

I furrow my brows, pursing my lips. “That’s not really how things work, babe. You didn’t just accuse Ryan of using this trip to get close to me—you insinuated I went on this trip because I wanted to sleep with him to get back at you.”

“Well, do you?”

“I’m not even answering that. It’s pointless. You don’t listen anyway.”

His eyes narrow. “It’s not like it’d be the first time. I mean, Jesus, Cooper. How am I supposed to trust you now that I know about your little affair in Newport? What am I supposed to think?”

Hot tears sting my eyes as my breath comes sharper and sharper, nostrils flaring with each exhalation. Anger tightens in my chest and I clench my fists, my voice brittle with emotion. “God, Brad.” My voice cracks, adrenaline slicing through me. “Ican’t do this anymore.” I hold back the tears, refusing to let him see me break. “I’m done. I’m just fucking done.”

He scoffs. “I knew it.”

I let out a defeated sigh. “You knew what?”

“You fucked him.” He glances at me. “You fucked him, didn’t you?” He turns back to the road, and all I can do is stare.

My gaze burns into the side of his face as I choke back the emotion, the hurt—the pain. I shake my head slowly, too defeated to even defend myself. I can’t win. I never could with him. “Whatever, Brad.” My voice is quiet, all the fight in me—gone.

“Baby, I need to know. Did you?”

I stare out the window.

“Coop.” He grabs my hand, squeezing it.

I keep my eyes on the passing cars. “Why do you even ask when you don’t believe me anyway?”

“Coop, come on, look at me.”

Reluctantly, I meet his gaze.

“Did you sleep with Ryan?”

I shake my head, my voice barely a whisper. “No.”

He sighs, pressing my hand to his lips. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being possessive and jealous—for accusing you. I worry all the time that you’re going to leave me. And honestly, I wouldn’t blame you after what I’ve put you through.” He takes a deep breath, and I just stare, trying to decide if he’s being sincere or feeding me a load of crap. “And then I meet this Ryan guy… he’s good-looking, and he obviously has a thing for you. You’re around him all the time at work, and now with these trips? I’ve been a mess, Coop—stuck in my head, thinking the worst. Almost preparing myself for the day you come home and tell me you slept with him… or that you’re calling off the engagement.”

I feel trapped between my feelings, the lies, and Brad. “Nothing happened. We worked. We looked at properties, had meetings, ate meals. That’s it. You don’t need to worry. We’re still engaged.” I give him a reassuring smile as he glances at me.

“Coop, I really don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. I can’t lose you. God, I love you so much.” He chokes up. Brad doesn’t ever cry. My heart lurches. I feel for him—I remember the paranoia and constant fighting after I first caught him cheating. But I also can’t keep going in these circles.

“I’m so sorry if I’ve been absent, or an ass, or both. You’re my number one priority for now on. Let's pick a date, baby. Let’s pick a date and start planning our wedding.” He squeezes my hand.

The walls of the car seem to close in on me, crushing my airway—I can’t think. “Okay. Yeah, let’s pick a date,” I say automatically, as if I’m a robot that’s been programmed to just agree.

Brad starts talking about a fall wedding for next year, but I’m only half-listening. My mind races.What the hell is wrong with me?I was ready to leave a few minutes ago, and now I’m nodding along to wedding plans. I think about how I’m assertive in every other part of my life, but with Brad, I become this passive, wimpy person I barely recognize—and I don’t like her.

When we get home, I head straight to my closet to unpack, hoping Brad leaves me to the silence of my own thoughts—even though they’re torturous right now. I hang up the clothes I didn’t wear, replaying the week in my mind: the time spent with Ryan, the laughter in the car, us playing in the pool, the vulnerable moments, our confessions. God, I wish I could stop thinking, just for one second.

Exhausted, I crawl into bed and turn off my lamp, praying Brad doesn’t want sex.Who am I kidding?If there’s one thing I know about Brad, it’s that he’ll definitely want to have sex.

I feel him sink into the bed beside me. He scoots behind me, and sure enough, his arm slides around my waist as he kisses my shoulder. His hand wanders down lower toward my shorts. I turn to him, meeting his lips in a quick kiss. “I’m exhausted, babe. Can this wait until tomorrow, when I have more energy?”

Brad sighs, disappointed. “Sure. I just missed you… it’s been a week.”

Guilt tugs at me. “You’re right,” I say softly. “Maybe I can be on bottom tonight?”

“God, never mind. If you don’t want to have sex just say so.”

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