Page 77 of Desserts for Stressed People

Oh, God...that must have been difficult, especially for a teenager.

“We had to leave everything behind. My sister cried for days over this silly pink dress she loved.” When a disgusted sneer twists his lips, he clears his throat. “So, one day, I decided to go get it. My mom didn’t want to leave her bed, and Riley missed our father. We were sad and confused and...” He shrugs. “I took my bike and went back home. Opened the door and...well. He wasn’t alone. Or wearing any clothes, for that matter.”

I stare down at the table, a lump forming in my throat.

“That first time we stayed away for six months. Then...it got shorter and shorter every time. Five, four, three months. Then a few weeks at the time.” He scoffs. “For years, I begged my mom to dump him—every time she caught him in the latest affair. I don’t know how many there were, but my guess is in the dozens. But they kept fighting and arguing until we both moved out. They still do.”

I look down at my kebab, my hunger long gone. “He still cheats on her?”

He balls the napkin in his hands. “Every once in a while, I get a call from my mom. She says she’s done. This time he’s really messed up, there’s no going back, he’s done one too many. She cries, she hates herself, she doesn’t eat, doesn’t speak. Then, she’s back with him in two weeks’ time. And it starts again.” As I peer at the table, he grabs his beer and takes a sip. “My father ruined my mom’s life, their marriage. And he ruined his kids.”

“It seems to me like his kid is doing just fine,” I whisper, “everything considered.”

He holds my gaze for a few seconds before shaking his head and brushing off the heaviness of the moment. “Anyway...How’s the kebab?”

“Is that why you refused to let me explain?”

There’s a moment of silence. “Yes. Somehow, at this moment, you are both my parents.”

I’m a weak woman who’s been cheated on and doesn’t have the strength to let go, and one who’s cheating without a single concern for whoever gets hurt. That’s what he means.

“You’re wrong, you know?” I swallow, trying to find it in me to say the next words. “As soon as I found out about Alex, I knew it was over between us. And it is. Wanting to get revenge was stupid of me, but the only reason I haven’t dumped him yet is the lease of the apartment.”

“The lease of the apartment?” he echoes as his brows furrow.

“It’s in my name and it won’t expire for a few months.” Looking down at my crossed legs, I ignore the heat of shame moving up my neck. “I—I can’t exactly afford to pay rent alone, nor can I count on him to pay his share if I break up with him.”

His lips part, and for a second, it looks like he doesn’t know what to say. When he dips his chin down, I worry I’ve said too much. Surely, he doesn’t want me to dump my barrel of issues on him. “Heaven,” he whispers with more than a little sadness in his voice. “You should have told me. I’ll help you—whatever the amount.”

Cringing, I look away. “No, Shane—”

“Yes. Of course, yes.” He sighs. “Look at me.” His jaw is clenched, his brows set over his eyes. More than sad, now, he looks like he’s about to go on a murder spree. “You won’t be trapped in your ownhome. With that...man. Just tell me how much you need, and tomorrow—”

“Shane.” I smile. “Though I appreciate the gesture, there’s no way in hell I’ll accept any money from you. You’re my boss and...” Shit. And what, Heaven? “And I don’t want to complicate our situation any further. Besides, I should get my promotion and raise soon.”

He scoffs. “I’m not offering, Heaven. Don’t argue with me. I’ll—”

“My friends already offered,” I reassure him. He doesn’t need to know that thinking of accepting hurts me. That to them, it’s probably a much bigger sacrifice than it’d be for him. I can’t involve him in this. I won’t. “He’s barely home and I spend most of my time at Emma’s anyway. It’s just a few more weeks.”

His eyelids shut for a few seconds, as if absorbing the hit. As if he’s personally failed me by refusing to hear me out earlier. Mostly, as if he’s still sad, pissed, and more than a little doubtful. “Are you sure? If you’re just saying...”

“I’m not,” I insist. “They’ve offered, and I accepted at the beginning, but when it came to it, it just felt too wrong that he’d interfere with their lives too, and not just mine. He’s my mistake, not everyone else’s.” I set the kebab down.

Passing a hand over his mouth, he grips the beer. He doesn’t drink it, just holds it tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it all happened a few days before we met, Shane. And we didn’t exactly start on friendly terms. I couldn’t. When I tried, after Alex’s petty show in my apartment, you shut me out completely.”

He looks like he wants to object but thinks better of it, pressing his lips tight together. “I’m listening now.”

“Good.”

“So tell me. What you wanted to say.”

I observe his irises, brown and deep and beautiful. The subtext is plenty clear. My next words are the ones that will make all the difference. That will decide whether we can put this whole Alex thing behind us. Or not. For a fraction of a second, I try to think of what would impress him the most. But I know already.

The only version he’s interested in is one.

The truth.

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