Page 117 of Seven Year Itch
“I didn’t know we damaged a pipe during the scuffle,” I say, hating the look of betrayal written all over Dakota’s face. “I can’t believe that’s something I would have missed, but I know back then I wasn’t the best at details.”
Dakota’s hands run through her hair, her eyes swimming with so much emotion, she looks like she’s going to be sick. “You knew he cheated on me and didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t have any proof, but it looked bad.” I shrug, having no good defense for my actions.
Her eyes move from me to Randal, her jaw tight with rage as she asks, “So did you cheat? We’re divorced now, so it really doesn’t matter, but I have to know now once and for all. I’ve always wondered.”
My chest feels like it’s caving in, because I hate that she wants to know the answer to this question. It wounds me on some level, and I don’t fully even understand why.
Randal’s expression is smug as he slides his hands into his pocketslike this is just a casual Saturday night conversation. “I never cheated, but...”
“But what?” Dakota asks, hanging on his every word.
He cuts his eyes to me, and an evil smirk plays on his lips. “I did bust the pipe in the bathroom. I was pissed and took a wrench to it after Calder had left. When it started gushing, I got the hell out of there and let him take the fall. He fucking deserved it, and I would do it again—”
Randal’s body thumps to the ground as I pull my fist back and shake it out, the sting of hitting his cheekbone burning up my fucking wrist.
“If I’m going to be accused of sucker punching someone, I’d better make it true,” I grumble, anger radiating through my entire body. Not because he let me take the fall, but because he so callously ruined something that was important to Dakota. She was the woman he was going to marry, and he sabotaged her house with no remorse? What kind of twisted fuck does something like that?
Randal howls, rolling onto his back and clutching his face. “You goddamn animal!”
I look up to see Dakota running out of the club just as two security guards come barreling toward me.
“You’re done, Fletcher,” one thunders in my ear. “You’re banned for life.”
“Fine by me.” I hold my hands up, allowing them to yank my arms back behind me as they manhandle me in the same direction as Dakota. I wouldn’t give a fuck if I never came back to this place again. Especially if a guy like Randal is allowed to darken its doorstep.
They ram me out the door, slamming it closed behind me. I rub my shoulder where the glass framing hit, and the silence of the outside feels ominous. The sound of a garbled cry turns my head, and I find Dakota leaning against the side of the building, her face in her hands and her shoulders shaking.
I want to sucker punch myself now.
My feet crunch on the concrete as I move to embrace her. “Don’t cry, baby.”
“Don’tbabyme!” she screams, her face blotchy with tears as she yanks away from my hands like I burned her. “Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me!”
“Dakota, please calm down.”
“How can I calm down?” she cries, breaking my heart. “I just found out my ex-husband possibly cheated on me, and you knew and have been lying to me about it for the past seven years.”
I exhale a heavy breath. “It wasn’t any of my business.”
“Not your business?” she screams, her voice hoarse. “Human decency isn’t your business?”
“You would not have taken that news from me well. You couldn’t stand me back then. You would have laughed in my face or punched me, and then I would have had the black eye.”
“Better than me having wasted seven years of my life with a lying asshole.” She stares accusingly at me, like this is all my fault when I know better.
I thrust my finger at her. “Hey... you picked him, not me.”
She shakes her head and wipes at the mascara running down her cheeks. “And in the past four weeks we’ve spent together, there was never a time when I was pouring my heart out to you where you were likeHmm, maybe I should tell Dakota about that big, awful secret I’ve been keeping from her for almost a decade?”
“You’re divorced! What does it matter? You’re not even with him anymore!” My head feels like it’s about to explode. She shouldn’t care about Randal. She shouldn’t give a fuck about him. She’s so far past him that she shouldn’t even remember his name.
“I’m obviously still messed up over him. I mean... you found me at a sex club for Christ sake, Calder. A sex club!” She lets out a maniacal laugh. “What the hell is wrong with me? Better yet, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“People look for connection in all sorts of places,” I argue, feeling her judgment pointed directly at me.
“Apparently even my ex-husband! God, what is wrong with men? Why do you guys do this shit?”
