Page 109 of Your Biggest Downfall
“Peter, can you give us a moment?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” he said, giving me a polite wave before heading out the door.
The moment he was gone, I slumped back into the chair, bracing myself. I knew what was coming—some version of the “you’re such a disappointment” speech, or worse, a pitying look that would make me feel even smaller. Either way, I was ready for it. I always had to be. Because nothing ever came easily for me, not without some kind of cost.
“Your husband?”
I flinched at the word, the question hitting me harder than it should have. I forced myself to meet her gaze, my stomach knotting.
“Yes,” I said, my voice quiet.
Her brow lifted, her expression unreadable. “You’re married.”
I nodded.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, and I could tell she was debating whether to push or let it go.
“We’ve been keeping it quiet,” I admitted.
“Quiet? Why?”
I hesitated, the words threatening to choke me. She needed to know the truth, especially if things unraveled later. “Austin’srecovery. We didn’t want to draw any attention to it. The pressure, the questions—it’s not what he needs right now.”
“I see. And when did you get married?”
“A few months ago,” I said, my lips curving into a small, bittersweet smile. “We went to a courthouse. No fanfare. No press.”
She nodded slowly, leaning back in her chair. “That’s a lot to carry on your own. I can’t imagine it’s been easy.”
I shrugged. “It’s what he needs. I don’t regret it.”
“No one’s questioning your commitment,” she said gently. “Don’t lose yourself in the process. Secrets like this have a way of surfacing, and when they do, it’s better if you’re in control of the story.”
“I know,” I admitted. “I just... I want to protect him. He’s worked so hard to get here, and I don’t want anything to jeopardize that.”
She studied me for a moment before leaning forward and bracing her arms on her desk. “If you need anything—anything at all—you come to me. I mean it.”
“Thank you,” I said, the sincerity in my voice surprising even me.
“He won’t let you go to England?”
I blinked, caught off guard by her meddling. “I’m sure he would,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “But that’s not the point. I can’t go. My mom is here, my husband is here—my life is in Chicago, for now.” I clenched my jaw, trying to remain civil. “I do appreciate you bringing Peter to the office though.”
She shook her head, leaning back in her chair, clearly unsatisfied with my response. “He—” She gestured toward the door. “Peter and I knew each other a long time ago. He was playing rugby here in Chicago for a bit, and I was still working on getting my degree.”
My eyes darted around me to make sure, once again, I wasn’t being punked. Was I getting a personal story from Iris? I folded my hands in my lap and tried to understand what lesson she was going to teach me with this story.
“I met him, and it was amazing. We were dating pretty quickly after, but a lot of things went downhill fast. Peter is a good guy now. He’s married with a family of his own, but he wasn’t a good boyfriend back then.”
Oh, shit. We were getting personal.
“He was narcissistic and emotionally abusive to me. He would berate my degree, my outfits, my entire life.”
Why the fuck was he here then? Why would she even think about having a relationship with him after all these years?
“He was recruited by a club in England and asked me to drop everything to go with him,” Iris said. “I agreed, and up until the day we were supposed to leave, I had every intention of going. I was ready to sacrifice my dreams, hopes, family, and friends for someone who didn’t truly love me.”
“What happened?” I asked, leaning in and resting my elbows on her desk.
