Page 31 of The Truth of Our Secrets

Me: I love you too!

Got a meeting

It’s unusual for him to text me with a random “I love you.” I know he loves me. There’s no doubt, but he’s not a random texter.

I take a deep breath and call my assistant into my office. She saunters in, smiling with zero shame that she’s not working.

“To help you in your new position, I made spreadsheets for the daily duties and procedures.” I slide them between us and explain the spreadsheets and sick policy with documentation. Her eyes are wide while I outline the workspace tracking system and volunteer policy.

Last year, when I’d asked Shane to design a new point of sale system for The Artistic Edge, he included tracking systems I never dreamed I’d use. But every artist punches in a code when they work in the gallery. Their personal code also works on the keypad lock for the workshop. It tracks their hours of volunteering and working in the gallery accurately.

I hand her the spreadsheet. It’s organized by the artist’s name and number of hours they worked in the gallery. Her name is on page two.

“This is…” She folds the paper and meets my eyes.

My cell rings, which is odd. Peter’s name flashes across the screen and I flip it over, pushing it away as if it might attack me.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “Do you need to get that?”

“No.” My voice shakes and I twist my hair around my finger, letting out a slow breath. Peter can’t hurt me. “Do you have any questions?”

“Ummm, no. I’ll get to work.” She stands and dashes out of my office for the storeroom, hopefully to catalog the new art pieces.

It was silly to be so anxious about the conversation. The worst case would’ve been to my benefit—charging her for the use of the workshop.

In my relief, I pick up my phone to text Emmet. But there’s a string of texts from Peter.

Peter: Do you know where your husband is?

The next image is of Jayce’s cock. My heart races as dread sweeps over me.

Peter: He needs things you’ll never give him

Peter: It’s only a matter of time

He means it’s only a matter of time before Jayce leaves me for a man. It’s what he told me before he left. That I’ll never sexually satisfy Jayce. That we’re not compatible.

I’ve never told Jayce what Peter said. He has so much guilt over the way Peter treated me and how things ended. I heard most of their horrific fight but kept quiet so he didn’t have to worry about me.

Before that day, I didn’t think Jayce would leave Peter. He has an impenetrable hold over Jayce. He let Peter isolate and demean him. For years, he took the abuse and still can’t break free.

They say you always marry your father, and for Jayce, that meant a manipulative, pathetic asshole. Peter disguises himself in nice suits and posh language, but he’s no better than Jayce’s father.

I shiver, thankful Jayce is nothing like my father. A pious, coldhearted man. He places the words in the Bible higher than actual human beings and their mental health. Preaching words that were written by men to keep women in their place, making him morally superior.

A man who taught me shame and rejection instead of love and acceptance.

All that rushes back and Peter’s words tighten my chest.

Jayce loves me.

But he also loves men.

Peter’s determined to drive a wedge between us.

But he might be right.

My phone pings and I’m nauseous. And then it pings again. Upside down on the table, I lift it to see the notification. It’s Jayce. He sends a string of texts about going out to dinner and doing something special.

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