Page 46 of Tell Me You Love Me

“Colin is not a therapist. And though I did, in fact, seek out professional help in New York, I didn’t fuck them.” I meet his attitude with one of my own. “But since we’re discussing conquests and ownership, you’ll be happy to know those fight magazines that flash your face all over the front cover, they’re on New York newsstands, too. I stopped counting after the sixth or seventhdifferentwoman on your arm.”

“Mmm. But you counted.” His lips peel back into a cruel smirk. “I always wondered if you thought about me. Turned me on, thinking of you out in New York, watching me fight in secret. It would have been like sneaking porn, right? Shameful. Something to be sly about. You couldn’t make it a family thing since Colin was sure to ask why you were so interested in this one guy’s fights all the time. So you had to settle for the tiny screen of your phone while you sat in your closet and touched yourself.”

Hatred blooms in my chest and spreads like wildfire, burning me up and leaving my heart pounding with an aching staccato. “Not only is that entirely untrue, but you’re being crass and rude and ridiculously inappropriate, too. With my son in the water?”

“He can’t hear us.”

“And your cute little girlfriend?”Fuck you, Eliza Darling.If I knew back then what I know now, I might’ve stomped on the twelve-year-old and made sure she knew wherenotto step. “You disrespect her by speaking to me that way.”

He spares a fast glance across the lake, but even I know she’s moved on to annoying Oliver. She’s given up on the anger directed my way—for now. Smirking, Tommy brings his blistering eyes back to me. “Nice try, Page. But only one of us is married.”

“And one of us migrated from the fight magazines to the gossip rags. ‘Who is Tommy Watkins dating this week?’ ‘Hearts break as supermodel Catarina Dana is seen out, alone, this New Year’s Eve.’Geez,” I sneer. “Forgive me for assuming your rage is a load of shit. You had no trouble crawling out of your hole of despair to make a red carpet appearance.”

“And you married the first douchebag you met after arriving in New York! It’s like you got off the bus with apin the tailgame. You didn’t even care where you landed. You found your donkey and hitched your wagon without a single glance back.”

“Better I marry one douchebag—who isnota douchebag, by the way—than fuck every blonde who fits into a size two backless gown. You act like I’m the monster here, but it looks like you easily found someone else to stroke your hair to sleep.”

“You have no clue what the fuck I’ve been doing these last ten years.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me in until our chests clash, his breath hitting my chin and his rage sizzling in the air. “Anyone with half a fucking brain knows gossip rags are no more reliable than the grapevines stretching across Plainview. Barbara to Bitsy, Betty to Paul. If I were to believe the shit that came out of their mouths, then I’d ask who you fucked the week of our high school graduation. Especially since your son told me he has a January birthday. From where I’m standing, it looks to me like you slipped and fell onto someone else’s cock, and instead of telling me what you’d done, too afraid to be honest, you busted out of town and ran away from accountability.”

He squeezes tighter. Tighter. And stares down into my eyes.

“The Alana I knew was loyal to a fault, and dammit, she was in love withme. Even if you left. Even if you won’t answer my fucking questions. There isn’t a guy in this town or the next that would have tempted you. So despite the math breaking my heart, I’m gonna hope with everything in me that Franky was a ridiculously premature baby, and Barbara’s brother’s friend’s wife doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. While I’m doing that, I suggest you reread those gossip magazines and consider giving me the same benefit of the doubt.”

He releases me with a huff, pushing me back and turning over in the water, and then he swims away. Which is a blessing, really, that he left. Because fresh tears fill my eyes, and pain steals my breath. It’s like I have an anvil on my chest and a bubble in my throat, disallowing even an iota of new oxygen to trickle into my lungs.

But the beauty, I realize now, of swimming in the lake when you have a broken heart is that you can fall beneath the surface once more, and no one will ever know you’ve been crying.

ROUND FIFTEEN

ALANA

“Oh my gosh. Alana? Is that really you?”

I spin at the sound of my name with a polite smile on standby and a gentle ‘we’ve got to hurry home now’ at the ready, but before I have a chance to evenseewhichever new ghost is back from my past, long arms come around and wrap me in a hug so tight, they crush the breath right out of my lungs.

And Franky, being the absolute darling he is, drops my hand and darts out of the firing line.

He’d step in front of a car for me… probably. But accept a hug on my behalf? No chance.

“Oh my gosh!” A girl I once knew—a woman now—releases me from her squeezing hug but holds my arms and practically dances on the tips of her toes. “I heard you were back!”

Through the grapevine, no doubt,

“Caroline Picton. Wow.”

“Caroline Davis now.” She waves her left hand in my face and shows off a diamond big enough to sparkle, even in the shade. Then she grabs me again and squeals. “Oh my hell, Alana Page! I’d heard the rumors, but Pete and I have been away up in the mountains for a couple of weeks. We just drove back in last night, and I swear, the second we crossed the tracks and rolled into town, we caught a whiff of you.”

“Oh…”Kill me now.“Good.”

“Andyou!” She releases me and charges toward Franky. But before I have a chance to evenconsidersaving him, he plasters his back to the brick wall of the local—and only—bank in town and burns her with eyes that would stop even the bravest of intruders.

Instead of clutching at him, she lowers into a crouch and keeps her hands to herself.

Smart woman.

“You must be Franklin Page. I heard all about you just this morning at breakfast. Your grandma thinks you’re the bees-knees, and she just so happens to be friends with my momma. My momma was thrilled me and Pete and the kids were back from our little getaway, so she was on my doorstep as soon as the sun came up. And that,” she oh-so-gently pokes his chest, “is how I know you’re smart, and friendly, and already doing so well down at the gym. I heard you don’t like to be hugged, so I won’t do that. And sometimes, you don’t even like to talk. That’s okay, too. I’ll do enough of that for the both of us.” She leans in as though to tell a secret. “But since I know youcantalk, feel free to jump in at any point.”

She stops. Waits. And when he only stares, she snickers.

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