Page 22 of How to Get Revenge on a Cheating Ex
Not that she’d ever admit it was because of him. She’d said at the time that it was pointless to pursue that extracurricular when it wasn’t going to earn her a scholarship, and she didn’t need it for her applications, and blah blah blah.
Everyone believed her.
I think maybe Bailey even convinced herself. But I knew better.
The thought of Grayson, of that first year they were together when they’d been so obnoxiously inseparable—it has me tensing beside her.
For a second there, I think maybe we both forgot that we can’t stand each other, but this little trip down memory lane ends with a major shift in mood.
The neighborly small-talk is replaced with a thick tension.
The whole reason she’s out here chucking balls at a piece of plastic is because of me.
Well, because of Grayson. But yeah, because of me too. Because I’d told her. And when she’d asked for proof, I’d shown her.
Wind up, release,thwack. Over and over until my feet start to freeze in the cold grass and the refreshing breeze turns frigid. After a while, I start to back away, to head back to my own house. Clearly, she wants to be alone, right? But then she breaks the silence. “How long?”
I freeze. “What?”
She turns to face me head-on and—aw hell.
I can make out her features well enough to see just how badly she’s hurting. Her eyes are puffy, and standing this close, they’re also frighteningly empty.
“How long have you known?” she asks.
I shift. “A few days. I caught them right before school let out.”
She nods like this confirms what she thought. She turns and walks away, toward the pitching net where she starts to gather up some softballs to start all over again.
“He doesn’t know that you know.” Her voice is eerily calm considering the fact that her hands are shaking and I can feel her pain like she’s sending out a beacon.
“No,” I agree. “He doesn’t know.”
“Doesshe?” She cuts me a sidelong look.
“Rina? No.” My laugh is undeniably bitter. “She broke up with me before I could confront her.”
She nods again like this makes sense. And then she surprises me with an, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” But I say it too quickly, and neither of us is fooled. I turn to face the net again. “We would have broken up anyway.”
That much is the truth. I hadn’t held out any hopes for some long-distance romance when she went off to college. Not like Bailey had.
“I wasn’t in love with her,” I add.
Another truth.
The words sit between us as she pitches again, harder and faster than before. “Well, I was. With him.”
My head whips to the side to face her and I know she hears it at the same time I do.
I was.Past tense.
“Iam,” she says quickly. “I think.” Her brows come down with a frown and her gaze is distant, not fixed on the net anymore. “Actually, I don’t know what I am now.”
There’s a short silence, and I feel like she’s waiting for an answer.
“Heartbroken,” I offer.
